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.

Elara finally stepped onto the awards stage.

The live broadcast of the ceremony flickered on the LCD TV in the infirmary room.

She wore a gorgeous gown that clearly wasn't her usual style, yet it fit her surprisingly well. She stood under the spotlight.

Her face glowed with a shy yet excited blush, her eyes slightly moist.

"I'm truly surprised to receive this award. Actually, I haven't done nearly enough. I've only persisted until now because of my love for mountain warfare and my desire not to disappoint certain people."

She paused at just the right moment. Her gaze seemed to drift toward the camera, as if speaking directly to someone far away.

Damien sat on the chair beside my bed, watching with complete focus.

He even had a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

He seemed to have completely forgotten that I was the one lying in this infirmary bed, barely able to lift my arm. I was the one who should truly be standing on that stage.

Just as Elara began thanking him, Damien's phone rang sharply.

He frowned, his tone impatient.

"What is it?"

I couldn't hear what the caller said, but his relaxed smile instantly froze, then turned dark.

"Hot search? What hot search?"

He quickly switched out of the call and opened his social media app.

A few seconds later, his face turned ashen. He slammed his phone screen down hard on the table.

"Sera!"

He turned toward me, looking like he wanted to tear me apart.

"Did you do this?! You just can't stand seeing Elara do well, can you?!"

On the TV broadcast, the camera had switched to the audience.

The previously harmonious scene was now in chaos. Many people were looking down at their phones.

They whispered to each other, their faces showing shock and disgust.

I could faintly hear someone shouting loudly.

"Liar! Thief! Give the crest back to Sera!"

Then, from somewhere, a water bottle flew toward the awards stage.

"Get off the stage! Homewrecker!"

"Stealing someone else's honor! Have you no shame!"

"Disgusting!"

The chaotic shouting came through the microphones.

Elara on stage clearly hadn't expected this sudden turn of events. Her smile completely froze, and her face turned pale as paper.

She looked down at the audience in panic, but saw only chaos and countless accusing stares.

Her body swayed. She clutched her chest and softly collapsed on stage.

The live signal cut off abruptly. The screen went black.

"Elara!"

Damien cried out, his face overflowing with anxiety and heartache.

He whipped around to glare at me. The disappointment in his eyes was so thick it seemed almost solid.

"How did you become like this? So vicious! Using such underhanded methods to destroy someone!"

I looked at him calmly. My dry lips moved slightly.

"It wasn't me."

He didn't believe me at all. He stepped closer, one step at a time.

"Besides you, who else would hate her this much? Who else would scheme so carefully?! Sera, I stayed here to keep you company because I saw how badly injured you were. I thought you had finally learned your lesson. I never expected you'd never change! What is your heart made of?!"

"Fine. Very well. You want to ruin her, don't you? You want to destroy her? Let me tell you - you're dreaming!"

He pulled out his phone and quickly dialed a number, barking orders into it.

"Send two people up here immediately to watch this room! Without my permission, she's not allowed to step one foot outside! No visitors allowed! Confiscate all her communication devices!"

Soon, two pack guards in dark clothing walked in. They stood by the door expressionlessly, like two guardian statues.

Damien gave me one cold glance. That look held none of his earlier gentleness. Only complete coldness and disgust remained.

"Stay here and think about what you've done!"

With that, he stormed out of the room. He was probably rushing to comfort his frightened savior.

The infirmary room fell completely silent.

I slowly picked up my phone.

The screen lit up automatically, showing the latest news headline.

【Blackwood Pack Alpha Damien Speaks Out: Officially Clarifies Relationship with Sera Thorne】

My finger paused for a moment. Then I tapped on it.

It was a brief statement posted from the Blackwood Pack's official account. The wording was cold and heartless.

"Regarding recent false online rumors, I, Alpha Damien Blackwood, hereby officially clarify: My relationship with Ms. Sera Thorne is limited to past acquaintance. There is no mate bond between us. Ms. Thorne was seriously injured in a mountain accident. According to professional medical diagnosis, her warrior condition cannot be recovered. She will be unable to continue as a warrior in the future. Furthermore, regarding the Vanguard's Crest, it was a misunderstanding by the organizers based on humanitarian considerations. Ms. Thorne's actual skill level does not match this award. Please do not spread false information. All official information should be taken as authoritative."

Below was an attached photo that seemed to have been taken while I was unconscious.

In the picture, I lay pale in the infirmary bed, my left arm wrapped in thick bandages.

Lifeless. I did indeed look pitiful and useless.

The statement had been posted just ten minutes ago.

He couldn't even wait to get back to his pack house. He was so eager to distance himself from me that he did it on the road.

I lifted my right hand, the only one I could still move, and slowly pressed it to my chest.

This should hurt terribly.

Strangely, it didn't.

As my memories faded, my love for him was disappearing too.

I tried hard to remember, but my mind was foggy. Only occasional fragments of memory flickered through.

That was fine.