I stopped looking at him and lowered my gaze to my swollen arm.

Even though I didn't understand healing, after all this time, my arm was probably ruined.

Sure enough, the Pack healer's face grew serious. He used a small flashlight to check my pupils, then gently pressed several key points on my arm.

Each touch made my vision go black. I nearly fainted.

He turned to Damine, his tone grave.

"Miss Thorne is seriously injured. She's been in the cold too long. The soft tissue is severely damaged. I suspect compound fractures and possible nerve compression. She needs to get to the healing center immediately for detailed examination and healing. Otherwise, this arm may never fully recover its function. It could even lead to serious systemic infection."

"Never recover?"

Damien's breathing suddenly stopped. He stared at my mangled arm, his eyes shaking violently. He instinctively stepped forward.

He knew what my arm meant to me.

Without my arm, my glorious warrior career would be completely over.

Just then, Elara, who had been leaning on her assistant, suddenly spoke up in a soft, weak voice.

"Healer, aren't you being a bit too dramatic?"

Everyone's eyes turned to her.

She nestled against her assistant, her face pale. But she forced out a comforting smile and spoke gently to Damien.

"Damien, don't worry too much. I've been in and out of the pack infirmary so many times over the years. I've seen a lot. Sera's arm looks scary, but it's probably just a bad sprain. The bruising and swelling make it look so purple and swollen. But the bone isn't actually hurt."

She lowered her eyes slightly, revealing her slender, fragile neck. She laughed self-mockingly.

"Who would have thought that my little bit of experience from being sick so long could actually help at a time like this. At least you won't worry so much."

Damien's tense expression gradually relaxed as she spoke so seriously.

The way he looked at Elara was instantly filled with heartache and guilt. When he turned back to me, his panic and worry had been replaced by impatience and anger.

"You heard her? It's just a sprain and bruising! Why are you putting on this dying act? Making such a big fuss over a little injury so no one can have any peace. Do you really want sympathy that badly?"

He frowned, his gaze sweeping over my pale face and trembling body. Like he was doing me a favor, he added another sentence, though his tone stayed cold.

"Fine. Since you've suffered too, I'll have the Pack healer treat your bruising."

Before he finished speaking, Elara suddenly swayed very dramatically and softly collapsed to one side.

"Elara!"

Damien's face changed instantly. All his attention was immediately pulled away.

He rushed forward and scooped Elara up in his arms, frantic with worry.

"What's wrong? Are you dizzy again? Hold on, I'll take you to the healing center right now!"

He carried her and strode quickly toward where the car was parked. He didn't even look back at me once.

The wind and snow seemed to get heavier. It cut across my face like a dull knife.

The Pack healer opened his mouth, as if he wanted to call Damine back.

In the end, he just sighed helplessly. He looked at me with pity in his eyes.

"Miss Thorne, your injury..."

I slowly raised my right hand, the one that could still move.

Very slowly, I touched the edge of the terrifying swelling on my left arm with my fingertip.

Under the ice-cold skin was burning, explosive pain that felt like it might burst open.

Experience from being sick?

Elara was so amazing. With just one look, she could see through all that thick swelling and bandages and decide I only had a sprain and bruising?

And Damien believed her.

He chose to believe her.

I watched the car carrying Damien and Elara drive away without any hesitation.

A faint, bitter smile curved at the corner of my mouth.

"Doctor."

I looked away, my voice so calm it surprised even me.

"Please just give me a simple bandage. That's enough."

"But your arm..."

"It's okay." I quietly interrupted him. "Just like this."

Just like this.

Whether it hurt or was ruined.

It seemed like none of it mattered anymore.

After some basic bandaging, I followed the Pack healer to a nearby pack medical facility to rest.

My body had reached its limit. I needed proper rest.

My consciousness drifted back and forth between burning chaos and bone-chilling cold.

I don't know how much time passed before I finally managed to lift my heavy eyelids.

Above me was the familiar yet strange ceiling of the pack's guest quarters. The air was filled with an odd mix of disinfectant and some sickeningly sweet herbal scent.

I turned my head slightly and saw Damine Blackwood sitting on a chair not far from the bed. He was looking down at his phone.

His profile was still cold and sharp, but there seemed to be a trace of exhaustion around his eyes.

It looked like he was the one who brought me here.

He seemed to notice my gaze. He immediately looked up, put down his phone, and walked over.

"You're awake?"

His tone was unusually gentle.

He even reached out to feel my forehead temperature, his brow furrowing slightly.

"The fever has gone down some, but you're still a bit warm. The Pack healer came by and said it's a high fever caused by wound infection. He gave you a fever-reducing injection with moonlight herbs."

My throat was bone dry. I couldn't speak. My eyes unconsciously fell on my left arm, which was wrapped in layers of white bandages.

The bandages were wrapped neatly and beautifully. There was even a delicate little bow tied on the outermost layer.

But beneath this elaborate bandaging came wave after wave of piercing pain.

That pain was what woke me up.

Damine followed my gaze. A smile that could almost be called proud appeared on his face.

Then he looked back at me, his tone taking on a hint of condescension.

"Elara bandaged it for you. She watched over you for a long time. I just convinced her to go rest."

"Although her eyes are still recovering, she studied healing arts for a long time to take care of her own health. She's very skilled at treating this kind of external injury and bruising. Look how well she wrapped it."

He paused, and his voice softened a bit more.

"Sera, Elara took such good care of you. You should be grateful to her from now on. Stop being childish and targeting her. Don't forget, she's my lifesaver. A year ago she saved my life during a rogue attack. A few days ago she rescued me from the frozen mountains again. As my mate, you should treat her better. "

Lifesaver?

Severe headaches and strange, intense pain from my arm tore at my nerves.

But I couldn't help thinking about something else.

A year ago, when heavy snow blocked the mountains, Damine, Elara, and I were trapped during a rogue attack.

I was the one who risked my life fighting through the endless white snow for three days to eliminate the threat. I even went snow-blind for a month because of it. During that time, I couldn't even look at anything white without my eyes tearing up.

I was clearly the one who saved him both times.

How could...

I suddenly stared at that pretty bow. A chill ran up my spine, instantly overwhelming the heat of my fever.

"Uh..."

I tried to speak, but only managed a broken whisper.

Damine didn't hear clearly, or maybe he just didn't care. He kept talking to himself.

"When you're better, we'll go thank Elara. She..."

I stopped listening.

Using all my remaining strength, I raised my right hand. Trembling, I reached toward that glaring bow on my left arm.

"What are you doing!"

Damine's face darkened. He reached out to stop me.

"Sera, don't be ungrateful!"

I violently pushed his hand away. The sudden movement pulled at my left arm. The pain made everything go black for a moment. I could barely breathe.

But I gritted my teeth. With some fierce determination that came from nowhere, I grabbed the edge of the bow with my fingers and yanked it hard!

The bandages came loose.

Fighting dizziness and nausea, I used my right hand to roughly tear off the bandages, round after round.

"Sera! What's gotten into you! I told you not to..."

Damine's angry shouting stopped abruptly when I completely removed the final layer of gauze that was pressed against the wound. It was soaked through with some kind of yellow-green pus.

The room fell dead silent.

The wound exposed to the air was more swollen than before.

The skin showed a terrifying, almost black deep purple color. The edges were turned outward. Pus kept seeping from deep inside, giving off an indescribable smell. Most terrifying of all, the flesh in the center of the wound even showed hints of an ominous gray, dead color.

This was clearly a sign of serious infection and necrosis.

Damine's eyes went wide. His pupils shrank suddenly. All color drained from his face.

He staggered back half a step, staring at my almost shapeless arm in disbelief.

"How could this happen?"

He muttered, his voice full of shock and panic.

He suddenly looked up at me, his eyes shaking violently.

"Pack healer!! Get the Pack healer over here! Right now! Immediately!!"

The Pack healer rushed in with his assistants. When they saw the wound on my arm, everyone gasped in shock.

The cleaning process felt like torture.

Each time the moonlight herb solution touched the festering, infected wound, my whole body spasmed. Cold sweat soaked through my hospital gown.

I bit down hard on my lower lip. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, barely keeping me from crying out in pain.

Just then, the infirmary room door was gently pushed open. Elara stood at the entrance with red-rimmed eyes.

When she saw the wound the Pack healer was treating, she immediately covered her mouth with her hand. Tears streamed down her face like broken pearls.

"How could this happen? I followed the healing steps from the ancient texts exactly - cleansing with moonlight herbs, applying healing salve, bandaging. I was so careful with each step. How could the infection get this bad? Damien, I really didn't mean for this to happen. I just wanted to make Sera more comfortable."

She cried with such genuine emotion, as if she had suffered tremendous injustice and guilt.

She stumbled toward Damien and grabbed his sleeve, trembling all over.

"Damien, you have to believe me. I really don't know why this happened. I only wanted to help Sera. Am I just useless? I can't even do such a simple healing right."

The Pack healer had just cut away a small piece of dead, rotting flesh. Hearing this, he looked up as if he wanted to say something.

But his gaze swept between Damien's dark expression and Elara's pitiful crying. In the end, he just offered flattering agreement.

"Miss Elara, don't blame yourself too much. These frostbite infections from improper wilderness treatment are very complicated. You meant well. And looking at this bandaging technique, it was indeed very professional. It might be Miss Thorne's own constitution or some other issue."

Damien's face was so dark it could drip water.

He stared at my horrible-looking arm. His brows were knotted tightly, his jawline tense.

For once, he didn't immediately agree with Elara. He didn't blindly blame me like he usually did. He just stayed silent, the pressure around him frighteningly low.

Elara's crying gradually quieted down. She glanced at him uneasily.

Finally, the Pack healer finished applying new moonlight herb salve and bandages. After giving a long list of care instructions, he left. Only the three of us remained in the room. The atmosphere was suffocatingly tense.

Damien finally spoke, his voice somewhat hoarse.

"You'll be fine. Tell the healer if you need anything."

He was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked me.

"Does it hurt?"

I felt a bit dazed.

The high fever made my brain feel like mush. Many memories were blurry and unclear.

But his almost gentle attitude at this moment made me instinctively feel a strong sense of discomfort and wariness.

I unconsciously shrank back.

My reaction seemed to hurt him.

He pressed his lips together, his tone becoming stiff.

"Rest well. Don't cause any more trouble."

Just as I expected.

He paused, as if suddenly remembering something.

"You're badly injured this time. Let Elara go accept the Vanguard's Crest at next month's Northern Territory Warriors Assembly in your place."

I jerked my head up, unable to believe my ears.

That crest was one of the highest honors in the werewolf warrior world. It was complete recognition of my career. I had earned it with countless hours of sweat and scars.

It wasn't just a medal. It was acknowledgment of all my years of effort and sacrifice.

"Why?"

My injured vocal cords made my voice extremely hoarse.

Before Damien could answer, Elara timidly tugged at his sleeve.

"Damien, don't do this. That crest is very important to Sera."

She said this, but her eyes held a barely detectable hint of provocation as she looked at me.

"Although I've never stood on such a prestigious stage, I am a bit envious. And Sera is so badly injured now, it wouldn't be convenient for her to attend that kind of ceremony. But since she's unwilling, I can't force her to give it to me..."

Damien patted her hand soothingly.

"Elara is right. How can you go in your condition? Besides, Sera, you're going to be marked as my mate eventually. You'll be my Luna. The Luna of the Blackwood Pack doesn't need to show her face in public for these empty honors. Let Elara accept the crest for you. "

I almost wanted to laugh. My chest felt stuffy and panicked.

"I fought for my life to earn that..."

"Your life belongs to me!"

Damien interrupted me, his tone suddenly urgent.

"From now on, you'll stay by my side. You won't need to go anywhere or do anything. I'll take care of you. You can tend the pack gardens, read books, chat with me and Elara. Wouldn't that peaceful life be good?"

But I felt cold all over.

A dull pain came from the back of my head.

I looked up in a daze. The dull pain in my chest gradually faded.

I could barely remember what that boy used to look like - the one who would celebrate when I performed well in warrior training.