Then a crazed, broken laugh escaped from her throat.
She finally realised what had happened: she had lost the only man who had ever treated her as if she were precious, and it was entirely her fault.
Rain poured down, washing the mud off her face and mixing with her tears as they faded into the cold, unforgiving earth.
Cassian had finally discovered the location of the Eastern quarantine healing facility.
It was situated five kilometres upwind of the silver dust contamination zone, specifically chosen for its proximity to the rescue routes while ensuring the medical staff remained safe from exposure. It was a wise choice–close enough to save lives, but far enough to protect those doing the saving.
He had searched every corner of the pack, nearby towns, and even the places Maya had casually mentioned in conversation; now, only one location remained unexplored.
As he approached the front gate, a faint scent drifted past his nose, familiar but fleeting.
Maya’s scent was distinct, a gentle herbal fragrance.
It disappeared as quickly as it appeared, like a phantom in the wind.
“She’s here,” Cassian said quietly to himself, clenching his fists.
Inside the facility, I was applying a special ointment to my skin that could completely mask my scent, which had been prepared by Elder Healer Eliza herself, as a precaution to ensure that no one from outside could track me down.
Still, I could feel it: Cassian was just outside.
“This area is restricted. “No unauthorised entry,” the guard stated, blocking his path.
“I’m looking for someone,” Cassian said, his voice full of hope. “Her name is Maya.” She is the best healer I’ve ever known. I know she is here. “I can feel it.”
The guard looked down at his clipboard. “I’m sorry, sir. There is no one with that name here. Our only healer is a witch doctor named Dr. Zoe Blackbourne.”
“That is impossible!” Cassian’s voice rose. “If this is a medical project, Maya must be present. “No one else can heal the way she does—”
“Alpha,” the guard stated firmly, “there is no Maya here. “Please leave.”
Cassian’s instincts, however, told him otherwise; every night, when the world was quiet and still, he could feel a soft pulse of familiarity in the air.
“This is a restricted zone.” “No one is permitted to approach.” The guard blocked him again.
“I’m the Alpha of the pack,” Cassian said through gritted teeth, “and I order you to let me in.”
“This is a high-security healing program. Even Alphas have no authority here.”
Nevertheless, Cassian returned every day.
He pleaded, threatened, and stood there quietly waiting.
Unfortunately, the answer never changed: “There is no Maya. “Only Zoe.”
He began to stalk the perimeter like a wounded wolf, pacing, waiting, and calling out.
At night, his voice would cut through the silver mist.
“Maya! I know you are in there! I apologise… That was my fault… Please come back.
Internally, I continued to battle the lingering effects of Isabelle’s poison. Every treatment session left me dizzy, sometimes unconscious, and the toxins were gradually eroding my healing abilities, but I couldn’t stop because there were too many wounded who needed me.
