“I was told you caused quite a stir at the reception desk. Which is understandable, but we are a little understaffed. Trust me, Miss Winter, as soon as Lina was brought in, I checked in on her. She had a mild allergic reaction, which temporarily constricted her airways, hence the passing out. Luckily, the antihistamines we gave her worked fast enough to counter the reaction.”

He pauses. Nothing good ever came from healers pausing mid-sentence.

“But?” I ask.

“I noticed something in her bloodwork.”

My stomach clenches.

“Nothing serious, of course, just an unusual protein marker. It’s probably genetic. As of now, it poses no threat to her.”

“As of now? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“In cases like this, it might be serious, but in Lina, the protein marker is dormant. This is not to worry you, but to give you all the information about Lina’s tests. She’s a healthy little girl at the moment, and you can take her home today.”

“Thank you, Dr. Well.”

Ten minutes later, after Patty says her goodbyes, I buckle Lina into her car seat, looking in the rearview mirror to see if she’s okay.

When she gives me a smile, my fingers grip the steering wheel as I take one last look at the building in front of us.

I stare at the paint that’s almost cracking off the walls, but then a piece of a childhood memory comes to my mind in the form of a sharp pain.

Daddy, I don’t like it here. It smells like medicine.

I know, moonflower, but your mommy is waiting for us, and she’ll kill us if we don’t go inside.

This hospital…it didn’t always look like this.

It’s almost like I’ve been here before. With my parents?

Chapter Nine

ALARIC HELLS

Ethan came in handy after all. The kid got me all the hospital records dating back to a few decades ago.

The records are spread across the coffee table in my penthouse. I loosen the button on my collar, pouring myself a glass of scotch because it’s going to be a long night digging through this heap of papers and files.

“Scotch?” I ask Ethan, who’s settled into one of my couches.

“If you insist, boss.”

If I insist? I fucking smirk. The modesty of this kid is on a whole new level.

After the night we’re about to have, he’ll want a drink or two, and I’m not about to judge him for it. Handing him a glass and settling down, I take a slow sip, letting the bitter liquid burn my throat and hoping it’ll dull the headache forming behind my eyes. Then, I grab another handful of records from the pile.

“Alpha Chris brought her here a few times when she was a child. According to this, Irene had a rare illness. The healer who treated her called it Moonborne Syndrome. Apparently, it affects one in a million werewolves.”

I take another sip of my drink. The name is unfamiliar to me.

“Moonborne Syndrome?” I ask, intrigued.

“It’s a rare werewolf condition affecting children of powerful bloodlines. Since Irene was the only daughter of Alpha Chris, that would explain a lot. Some of the symptoms include uncontrollable fevers under the full moon—dangerously high fevers that could lead to temporary memory loss, and a mild allergic reaction to certain foods like…nuts.”

My ears ring at that last word, and my thoughts instantly snap to the little girl with green eyes I left in a hospital bed, clutching the biggest teddy bear I’d ever seen.

Curiosity, or maybe something deeper, had me stopping by to see Dr. Well before I left, asking how Lina was doing.