Chapter 200: Chapter 200: The Life Within
SONIA’S POV
After half an hour of walking around, whilst actively dodging anyone that could put us in danger by revealing our whereabouts, Lydia finally came to a stop in front of a house.
The small wooden building sat tucked away near the edge of the pack, its roof slightly sagging under the weight of time but the windows clean and inviting.
She knocked, and the door was opened for us to go in. A middle-aged woman with tired but kind eyes greeted us, her shoulders relaxing visibly when she saw Lydia.
"You came," I heard as we entered the house. The air inside smelled of herbs and faint woodsmoke, a comforting mix that eased some of the tension in my chest.
Someone hugged Lydia. As they hugged, I took the opportunity to look around.
It was a neat house for starters. No sign of struggles either. The furniture was simple but well-kept, the floors swept clean, and fresh flowers sat in a small vase on the table. A very conducive environment to foster rapid healing. The space felt lived-in and cared for, the kind of home that spoke of quiet resilience.
"This is princess Sonia," I heard Lydia introduce, her voice warm and proud.
I turned around to meet a woman’s frail outstretched hands. The woman’s eyes were wide with gratitude, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached for me.
"Thank you for gracing our home with your presence," she said, her voice soft but filled with emotion.
I took her hands in mine, and offered her a smile. The warmth of her skin surprised me, a small sign of life that gave me hope for the patient waiting inside.
"You’re welcome," I replied, squeezing her hands gently.
"Please, come this way with me. My mother is in the other room."
I followed her to another room, and as we entered, I felt my wolf kick. The sudden movement inside me made me pause, my hand instinctively moving to my stomach as a flutter of something unfamiliar stirred.
Halting, because that was strange, I waited for another movement.
But that was it. It simply refused to move anymore. The absence of my wolf had left a hollow space, but this new sensation felt like a fragile bridge trying to form.
I sighed, and continued further into the room.
There was definitely sickness in the room, I thought, just as the daughter of the sick woman cleared a space on the bed for me. The air was heavier here, thick with the scent of herbs and the faint metallic tang of prolonged illness.
I sat beside the sick woman, and my breath quickened.
I could barely hear her heartbeat. She was rapidly fading away. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, labored movements, her skin pale and clammy under the thin blanket.
"How long has she been sick?" I questioned the daughter worriedly, my fingers already reaching for the woman’s wrist to feel her pulse.
"For a while now. A very long time," the daughter replied, her voice cracking with exhaustion and fear.
I shook my head as I felt her temperature, and saw it was a little on the high side. The heat radiating from her skin told me the fever had been burning for days, weakening her body further.
Signalling for Lydia to draw closer, she got the message and handed me my tool box. The familiar weight of it in my hands grounded me, a small piece of who I used to be returning in this moment.
Everything I had left in it was just as I left it.
Considering how long it had been since I last used it, I was expecting for the items in it to be covered with dust.
Fortunately, they were as good as new. The herbs still carried their sharp, clean scents, the bandages neatly rolled, the small vials of oils intact.
"Could you please lift up her head, a little?" I pleaded, pulling out some lemon grass.
In a lot of cultures, lemon grass signified breathing in new life.
It usually takes away the fever of a body on the verge of lifelessness, and breathes in new life to it. The fresh, citrusy scent filled the room as I crushed a few leaves between my fingers, releasing their healing properties.
With the help of Lydia, the old woman’s daughter lifted her head up.
"Just stay still please."
I brought the lemon grass to her nose, and she instantly sneezed. The sudden reaction made her body jerk slightly, a small sign that life still fought within her.
I left it for a few more seconds, before finally signalling for them to bring her head down.
"It’s important to get rid of the fever before anything else. If we don’t, she’s never going to fully recover," I said, filling the daughter in.
I felt it was best she knew everything I was doing, just in case of a next time. The knowledge might give her some control in a situation that had left her feeling helpless.
After a few more minutes of administering different medication on her, she finally began to breathe normally. Her chest rose and fell with more ease, the shallow gasps turning into deeper, steadier breaths.
I waited half an hour, just holding her hands in mine. The warmth slowly returning to her fingers gave me a quiet sense of accomplishment, even as my own body felt drained.
From the distance, I could hear the daughter question Lydia on my techniques, her voice filled with awe and curiosity.
I felt Lydia smile, as she said, "Just trust the process."
I also had to trust the process. Because this was the first time in a long time I would be healing anyone.
With my wolf gone, it would be more difficult to recuperate, if I should take anyone’s pain. The absence of that familiar connection made every action feel heavier, more uncertain.
But for the hospitality of the woman, and the kindness I saw in her mother’s previously lifeless eyes, I was willing to take that risk.
I kept my hands on her, and was closing my eyes when I heard a loud voice in my head.
"What if Jed was right? What will you do?" It questioned clearly, the words sharp and uninvited.
"You’d be putting it in danger if you can’t heal fast," the voice continued when I made no move to respond to its fear.
Well it was a good thing I didn’t believe Jed was right.
Nothing was going to stop me from healing the woman.
I closed my eyes anyway, and began to take the rest of her pain away. The transfer came slowly at first, a dull ache spreading through my own body as I absorbed what I could. My muscles tensed, my breath growing shallow as the woman’s suffering flowed into me.
"What is she doing?" I heard the woman ask again, her voice filled with wonder.
"I don’t know," Lydia replied.
She was being honest too. This side of my healing ability was new to her.
The pain was a lot for the woman. I took as much as I could, feeling it settle heavy in my bones, my own body protesting with waves of dizziness.
But when I felt like I was getting sucked in, I caught myself, and stopped. The connection broke with a sharp snap, leaving me breathless and slightly dizzy.
The second I stopped, I felt my wolf kick again. A small, defiant movement that sent a spark of hope through me.
"I know you’re there, even when I can’t sense you."
I smiled, and opened my eyes. I had done it.
The old woman’s wolf was doing the rest of the job.
In no time, she would be hale and hearty again. Her breathing had already deepened, color slowly returning to her cheeks.
I turned around, beckoning on the daughter.
She drew closer to me, and I offered her a smile so she could know everything was fine. The relief on her face was immediate, tears welling in her eyes.
"Your mother should be fully awake by the morning. In three days, she’ll be fully recovered."
"Really? Are you really sure? You’re not selling me dreams, are you?" She asked, as a rush of tears fell from her eyes, her hands trembling as she reached for mine.
"No, I’m not selling you dreams. She’ll be fine, okay?" I smiled even more genuinely, squeezing her hands to offer what comfort I could.
She bent, and before I got the chance to protest, hugged me. Her arms were warm and grateful, her body shaking with quiet sobs.
"You’re sent from the moon goddess herself. Thank you so much," she cried profusely.
I looked up at Lydia, who’s eyes shone with pride. The pride in her gaze warmed me, a small reminder that I still had purpose here.
I was also grateful, because it would have been horrible if I had completely lost my ability to heal.
"Thanks to the three of you. I’ll pray for you daily, because I don’t have much else to offer you," she said, pulling away and wiping at her tears.
"You’re welcome," Lydia said, as the woman rose to her feet.
But I was still stuck in the three of you part.
I couldn’t let it slide without asking for an explanation.
"What do you mean by the three of us?" I gathered enough courage to ask, my voice steady despite the sudden flutter in my stomach.
"You, Lydia, and the baby in your belly, of course," she said, her smile wide and knowing.
My heart skipped a beat. There was a second opinion. It had to be true.
It had to be true that I was pregnant with Alpha Ramon’s child. The realization settled over me like a heavy blanket, both terrifying and strangely warm.
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