Page 15 of The Alpha's Shattered Bonds

He blinked, a quizzical look crossing his face.

“Not that I’m not grateful to be reunited with my favorite sweater-and-jeans combo,” I continued, gesturing to my outfit, “but it’s probably time you turned my old room into a gym or study like most parents do when their kids leave home.”

Tyler choked on a mouthful of cereal, torn between discomfort and irritation, as evidenced by the scowl clouding his brow.

But I’d made my decision after last night. I was forging ahead, determined to eliminate any romantic ideas between us. While I needed to be here for my parents, I’d lean into the friendship we’d once shared. After all, Tyler had raised me after my parents’ death. Reminding him of that was the best way to ensure he saw me as nothing more than family.

“So, I suppose we shouldn’t tell anyone the true reason I’ve come back,” I said. “Not until we’ve rooted out the real traitor.”

“I agree,” Tyler replied, relief washing over his features as if the change of subject were a lifeline. “We’ll just tell everyone you missed your clothes, shall we?” His tone was teasing, yet a glimmer of challenge danced in his eyes.

I snorted in amusement, choosing to respond to his tone rather than look.

Once we finished breakfast, we made our way to the infirmary. As we entered, Linda strode toward us, animosity rolling off her in waves. “You’re not welcome here,” she snapped, her tone cutting through the air, sharp and clear.

Momentarily stunned, I gestured toward my supplies. “I’m here to help,” I said, my voice teetering between a plea and frustration. But my words fell on deaf ears. Linda stood firm, blocking the doorway.

Tyler stepped in, his voice steady. “I thought I was clear yesterday, Linda. Seraphina is going to look at the patients.” His stance exuded authority. A flicker of gratitude moved through me for his support.

She glanced at him warily, the fight dissipating as she realized she couldn’t deny his order. Her lips pressed into a thin line, but grudgingly, she stepped aside, letting out a heavy sigh. “Fine, but my supplies are off-limits.”

Like the rest of the pack, Linda hadn’t been particularly friendly to me since my parents’ betrayal. But I suspected that more of her anger originated from Tyler’s canceling their mate ceremony because of his feelings for me. She stalked away from us in the opposite direction, clearly not wanting to have any more interactions than necessary.

Tyler handed me a face mask after putting one on himself.

“So, the illness is an airborne one?” I asked as I secured my mask.

“Yes, but it can be transmitted through blood, too,” Tyler said. “We think Harry picked it up when training with David in the ring.”

We moved deeper into the infirmary, the muted lighting illuminating rows of makeshift beds filled with pack members suffering from the illness. Most lay in fevered slumber, while those awake appeared clammy and weary—an air of suspicion thickened as I passed their beds, making my heart race with trepidation.

“Luckily,” I told Tyler, scanning my supplies, “I’ve brought quite an inventory, but it won’t be enough for this many patients.”

Gratitude surged as I recalled raiding Selina’s stock cupboard before leaving. When I first met her, she had run her own herbal boutique. Now, her business thrived, expanding to include a whole network of boutiques. The main bulk of her stock remained at Shadow Moon Castle. So, I felt confident I wouldn’t need Linda’s herbs for a while.

“They’re running a fever, and Linda has been treating it with kuppik,” Tyler explained, guiding us through the infirmary, where a few visitors tended to the infected.

I recognized two younger female shifters dressed in scrubs, Kelly and Laura, both of whom had studied herbalism at Silver Moon University. “Do Kelly and Laura work here now?” I asked Tyler.

“In the summer months,” he replied. “Linda’s been training them to be aides over the past few summer breaks. Good thing, too. We’ve needed all the help we can get these last few days.”

“Hi,” I greeted as I approached them. They were administering poultices to some of the worst affected patients.

“Hi, Seraphina,” they both replied cheerfully, their acceptance a warm balm in the chilly atmosphere. They were more open-minded than most of the pack, having not lost any immediatefamily during the invasion my parents were supposedly responsible for. It also didn’t hurt that they’d actually ventured from the confines of the pack to study at Silver Moon University.

I examined the male shifter Kelly was tending to—David, a Silver Moon warrior in his mid-twenties. He shivered beneath multiple layers of blankets, clearly suffering from the same fever as the others.

“We’re trying a course of lemonwood to bolster their immune systems,” Kelly explained, the citrus scent a welcome reprieve from the underlying sweat and waste in the room. Yet a knot of concern twisted in my stomach—I knew deep down that the herbs wouldn’t suffice. This illness wasn’t merely a virus. A sickening whisper wrapped around David’s skin, tugging at my magic—this was definitely dark magic.

Memories of Selina’s sister, Marissa, flooded my mind. I recalled how the malignant shadowy tendrils had contaminated Selina’s products. I had helped her and Lyvia heal the affected customers. Armed with that knowledge, I was confident I could make a difference here, too.

“I’ve seen something like this before,” I whispered to Tyler after examining a few of the worst-afflicted packmates. Their symptoms were strikingly consistent, and I felt a growing determination swell within me. “I’m pretty sure I could whip up a remedy.”

His blue gaze met mine, and I sensed that he wanted me to tell him more. I wanted to share more about Selina’s sister and how dark magic had tainted the herbal products. But as I considered the possibility of the traitor lurking among us, I hesitated. The truth would need to wait for solitude.

“It’ll take both herbs and magic,” I explained to Tyler as I set out my supplies on a table in the center of the infirmary.

Just then, I noticed Logan had joined the small gathering of visitors. The hour was early, but the atmosphere felt charged, and Logan hovered beside David’s bed, watching me like a hawk. As soon as I met his hostile gaze, he sneered, “Do you seriously think anyone will let you lay a finger on them?”

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