Dane's POV
"Lucien."
The name echoed in my head long after her voice went silent.
It wasn't mine.
And yet hearing it come from her lips as she fell unconscious in my arms carved something dark and cold through my chest.
Who the hell was Lucien?
Jealousy hit before reason could catch up…sharp, fast, and ugly. My wolf bristled inside me, snarling at the thought of another name on her tongue, another bond in her heart.
But she was limp in my arms, pale and fevered, and the anger died as quickly as it came.
I couldn't afford jealousy now. Not when she looked so fragile that even the night air seemed too heavy for her.
"Hold on," I muttered under my breath, tightening my grip as I strode toward the manor. "Just hold on."
Through the mind link, I reached out to the healers, all of them. "To my chamber. Now."
And then, "Mother, bring Clara. Donna fainted."
The responses were instant, a ripple of voices acknowledging the command. By the time I reached her room, the corridor was already alive with footsteps and hushed panic.
The healers were waiting, robes rustling, eyes wide. My mother stood among them, her expression carved from stone.
Clara hovered near the doorway, clutching a folded towel in both hands, her face ghost-white.
As soon as I entered, they rushed to work. I laid Donna carefully on the bed, watching her chest rise and fall in shallow breaths.
Her skin looked almost translucent against the sheets, her lips pale, her lashes trembling slightly like she was trapped in some terrible dream.
"What happened?" my mother demanded, her tone sharp enough to cut through the noise.
I opened my mouth, but nothing coherent came out. "She wanted to walk," I said finally, my voice low. "She said she couldn't sleep."
Mother's eyes snapped toward me, hard as steel. "And you let her? At night? In this cold?"
"She insisted," I started, "I thought….."
"You thought?" she hissed, stepping closer. "Dane, do you have any idea how weak she still is? Her body's barely recovered from whatever she's been through! The healers said she needs days, not hours!"
"I didn't know….."
"If anything happens to that girl," she said, her voice lowering, dangerously calm now, "you'll learn firsthand why people pray I never lose my temper."
The room went still. Even the healers froze.
I swallowed hard. "I'm sorry."
Her gaze held mine a moment longer before she turned away, motioning for the healers to continue.
They moved around Donna swiftly, murmuring incantations under their breath, applying salves, mixing herbs that filled the air with sharp, bitter scents. The faint light of healing magic flickered over her skin.
I stood there uselessly, every instinct screaming at me to do something. But there was nothing left for me to do, not as an Alpha, not as a man.
Then one of the elder healers straightened suddenly. "My lord," she said, "she's trying to speak."
We all froze.
Donna's lips were moving faintly, brokenly but the words were too soft, too slurred to catch.
"What is she saying?" Mother asked urgently.
The healer shook her head. "We can't make it out. Her mind's caught somewhere between sleep and wake. Her energy's unstable like she's fighting something deeper than exhaustion."
"Can you help her?" I asked.
The elder hesitated. "Not us. This calls for a divine healer, someone blessed by the Moon herself. But until one arrives, we'll give her a tonic to cool her fever and keep her from slipping further."
Mother exhaled shakily and nodded. "Do it. Whatever it takes."
As the healers began their preparations, Clara stepped forward timidly. "I'll get cool water from the kitchen," she said, eyes darting nervously toward me. "It'll help soothe her."
My mother nodded, and the girl ran out quickly, skirts fluttering behind her.
For a few moments, the only sounds were the clinking of glass, the rustle of cloth, and the faint, labored rhythm of Donna's breathing.
I could feel the pull of the bond…that strange, burning thread tying me to her, humming low in my chest.
Every shallow breath she took, I felt it like an echo inside me. It terrified me how much it affected me already.
I shouldn't care this much. Not yet. Not when I barely knew her.
But watching her lie there, trembling in her sleep, something inside me twisted tight.
Mother moved to the edge of the bed, placing her hand over Donna's wrist. Her eyes closed as she whispered a quiet prayer, an old one, in the tongue of the Moon priests. The air seemed to still, faint light curling around her fingers.
"Bless her strength," my mother murmured. "Guard her heart. Let her wake whole."
Her voice faltered slightly, and I realized she was afraid too.
When the glow faded, Donna's breathing eased a little. The fever reduced, though her skin still glistened with sweat.
"She'll rest now," one of the healers said softly. "We've done all we can until morning."
Mother nodded, brushing a damp strand of hair from Donna's forehead. "Thank you. All of you."
The healers bowed and began to pack their things quietly. I stood still, rooted to the same spot, my eyes fixed on the fragile rise and fall of Donna's chest.
My mother turned to me finally. "Go, Dane."
I frowned. "What?"
"You're not helping her by standing here," she said gently. "You've done what you can. Let her rest and pray she wakes with peace."
"I don't want to leave her alone," I said quietly.
"She isn't alone," mother replied. "I'm here. And Clara will be back soon."
Her tone softened as she stood and placed a hand on my arm. "You did what you thought was right, my son. But sometimes protection means knowing when to step back."
I lowered my gaze, shame prickling under my skin. "I shouldn't have taken her out."
"No," she agreed. "You shouldn't have."
Her hand squeezed my shoulder, not unkindly. "But the bond clouds reason. It always does, especially in the beginning."
The bond.
The word lingered heavy between us.
I didn't respond, couldn't. Every muscle in me was coiled tight, every instinct screaming to stay, to guard, to hold.
But I forced myself to nod. "If anything changes…"
"I'll send for you immediately," she said.
I took one last look at Donna, the shadow of exhaustion softening her face. The sight left something raw in my throat.
Then I turned and left before I could change my mind.
The hallway outside was silent. Too silent. The air felt colder now, heavier.
As I walked away, the image of her whispering another man's name burned behind my mind.
Lucien.
Whoever he was, the Moon Goddess had bound me to a woman who still dreamed of someone else.
And for reasons I didn't understand, that truth hurt more than I wanted to admit.