Chapter 384: Three Days
There was nothing we could do. Whatever Zyren gave him simply finished the job, she thought, already certain that the other werewolves would accept such an explanation.
Her gaze shifted toward Falson, a silent question in her eyes.
He did not hesitate.
"I understand," he said, straightening his back as he stepped away from Jared’s body. "Zyren’s poison is to blame."
Gregory didn’t need to think twice before doing the same. He quickly moved back as well, putting distance between himself and the fallen Alpha.
The three of them stood there in silence.
And watched.
The blazing fury in Jared’s eyes slowly dimmed... then disappeared entirely.
Annoyingly, it took longer than Clara would have liked.
His body struggled more than she had expected, his chest jerking weakly, his fingers twitching against the floor as though some stubborn instinct still refused to let go of life.
Clara watched it all without emotion.
In the meantime, her attention shifted to the two people standing with her.
They were witnesses.
Witnesses to what she had done.
If the council decided it was convenient, they could easily twist this into a charge against her. If they agreed that sacrificing her would stabilize the pack, they would not hesitate.
Gregory was compliant. That much was obvious from the way he avoided her eyes and chose silence.
But Falson...
There was a reason he was in charge of spies.
He was observant. Calculating. Intelligent.
And the last thing Clara wanted was for that intelligence to turn against her.
As Jared’s breathing grew weaker, the only thing she could think about coldly was whether Falson should follow him.
The thought did not make the decision any easier.
Because at that exact moment, Falson turned to look at her.
"We need to talk," he said.
Clara was still sitting by the door, her posture far from the elegance expected of her. She was sprawled on the floor in a position her mother would have scolded her harshly for.
But she simply smiled.
"Of course," she replied without hesitation.
"...we do."
**************
By the time Aria woke up, she was immediately relieved to find that her head felt much lighter.
Her body, however, still felt heavier than she would have liked.
Her eyes fluttered open slowly, drifting toward the window. The soft golden light filtering through told her it was sometime in the afternoon—close to sunset.
And along with that realization came something strange.
She was tired.
Exhausted, even.
It made no sense. She had just woken up, yet it already felt like a struggle just to keep her eyes open. The fatigue seemed to sit deep inside her bones.
She tried to push through it, slowly shifting as she attempted to sit up.
But the moment she moved, she heard someone rush toward her.
A maid she didn’t recognize came into view.
The girl’s hands trembled slightly, her nervousness obvious. That alone told Aria everything she needed to know.
Zyren had made sure she understood how important Aria’s safety was.
"Lady Aria! You’re awake!" the maid exclaimed, pointing out the obvious.
Aria nodded faintly as the girl hurried forward to help her sit up properly against the pillows.
"...don’t worry, I’ll go and have someone call Healer Savira!" the maid continued, her face filled with such intense concern that one might have thought there had been a death in her family.
I can’t look that bad, can I? Aria thought to herself.
She watched the maid scurry toward the door, already calling for the guards to summon Savira.
Honestly, Aria didn’t mind.
Savira was exactly who she needed to see.
As far as she knew, the healer was the only one who might be able to explain this overwhelming exhaustion that seemed to have seeped into her very bones.
Back in Savira’s laboratory, Zyren stood across from her.
The atmosphere between them was heavy—tense enough that the air itself seemed to tremble.
Savira tried to keep her composure, though it was far from easy.
The Zyren standing before her now was not the one she had known before.
His strength had changed.
Deepened.
And for the first time in years, she could no longer clearly gauge the limits of his power.
"Are you alright?" she asked carefully. "Your bloodlines are no longer balanced, are they?"
The slight frown that formed on his face told her immediately that this was not a topic he wanted to discuss.
"Aira," he said instead. "She should have woken up by now."
His tone was calm.
But there was a sharp edge beneath it—something restless, something that hinted at violence if he did not receive an answer he liked.
Savira stiffened slightly.
She hadn’t expected him to sense that something was wrong with Aria before she had even spoken.
But she knew Zyren well enough to understand one thing.
Hiding the truth from him was a mistake.
So she spoke.
"It wasn’t a normal injury," she began quickly. "There was poison mixed in, but Aria’s body is strong enough to handle it."
She continued speaking without pause, knowing she needed to finish before he reacted.
"...the issue is the baby."
Zyren’s gaze sharpened.
His annoyance rose immediately.
"Why?" he asked. "It’s dying?"
There wasn’t even a trace of emotion in his voice.
Savira shook her head quickly.
"No! No," she said. "But my guess is that it was startled. The stress Aria’s body is going through triggered its survival instincts."
She swallowed, uneasy under the way his eyes darkened.
"Right now, the child is prioritizing itself over Aria’s body," she explained. "We just need to wait. After some time, the balance will return to normal, and Aria will regain the use of her ability."
She forced confidence into her tone, hoping it would be enough.
For several long seconds, Zyren said nothing.
He simply stared down at her.
Even without moving, he seemed to tower over her completely.
"How many days?" he asked at last.
Savira felt a small flicker of pride when she managed to answer without stuttering.
"Three days," she said, bowing her head slightly.
Zyren nodded once.
Then he turned and walked out without another word.
Savira let out a slow breath only after he was gone.
The truth was, she wasn’t entirely certain about the baby’s condition. It wasn’t as though she could see inside the womb.
But her instincts—honed over decades—had told her one thing very clearly.
Do not suggest the possibility that the child might be injured.
Not to Zyren.
So she hadn’t.
It will be fine, she reassured herself.
In three days... she should recover.
