Chapter 227: Chapter 227

I sat by Damon’s side, watching his chest rise and fall as he slept. The herbs the doctor gave him seemed to work fast, pulling him into a deep sleep. His skin glistened with sweat, and I gently wiped his forehead with a soft cloth, careful not to wake him. Every time I pressed the cloth to his skin, I whispered, as if my words might reach him in his dreams.

I didn’t know when my own eyes grew heavy. My hand was still on his arm when sleep claimed me, too.

I woke suddenly, my heart racing. The room was quiet except for Damon’s breathing. I blinked and then froze. One of my maids was standing at the small table where the herbs were kept. She was lifting the container carefully, as if trying not to make a sound.

"What are you doing there?" I asked sharply, my voice breaking the silence.

The maid jumped, nearly dropping the container. She turned quickly and bowed low. "My lady," she stammered, "forgive me. It is almost time for Alpha Damon to take the herbs again. I saw you asleep and I didn’t want to trouble you, so I thought I should brew it myself."

I stood and walked closer, my eyes narrowing. "No. No one touches the herbs. Do you understand me? I will brew them myself, always."

The maid bowed again, her hands trembling slightly. "Yes, my lady. Forgive me."

I stepped forward and took the container from her hands, my grip firm. "Leave it. You may go."

She hesitated as if wanting to say more, but I gave her a hard look and she quickly backed away, bowing once more before leaving the chamber.

I let out a slow breath, my hands shaking just a little. Something about the way she was holding the herbs unsettled me, but I pushed the thought away. Maybe she truly wanted to help. Still, I couldn’t allow anyone else to prepare Damon’s medicine, not when his uncle was still around.

I carried the container to the kitchen myself. The cooks glanced up in surprise when they saw me, but no one dared question me. I brewed the herbs carefully, just as the doctor instructed, the bitter smell filling the air. I watched every drop, making sure nothing was wrong, then poured it into a clean cup and carried it back.

When I entered the chamber again, Damon was stirring. His eyes blinked open slowly, and when he saw me, he smiled faintly.

"You’re still here," he whispered, his voice rough from sleep.

"Of course," I said softly, sitting beside him. "I will always be here."

He tried to sit up, and I quickly helped him, placing a cushion behind his back. I lifted the cup toward his lips. "It’s time for your herbs again. Drink."

I fed him small sips until the cup was empty. When he finished, I wiped his mouth gently with a cloth.

He leaned back slightly, his gaze distant for a moment. Then he smirked, turning to me.

"Do you know, Lisa," he began, "when Rowan, Kael, and I were just twelve years old, we led our first war?"

My brows shot up in disbelief. "Twelve? Damon, don’t lie to me."

He laughed at my expression, his deep voice rich with amusement. "It’s true. Twelve years old. Barely taller than a sword, but we led men into battle."

I leaned closer, my eyes wide. "You can’t be serious. How? Why would anyone trust children with something so dangerous?"

He shook his head, his smile tinged with pride. "Because we weren’t just children. We were born heirs of the strongest bloodline. Our father had trained us since we were young. By twelve, we already commanded respect, even from seasoned warriors. That day... it was chaos. Rogues had attacked one of our border villages. Father was away, so it fell on us."

"What happened?" I asked, hanging onto his every word.

He straightened a little, his voice taking on that commanding tone I knew so well. "Rowan took charge of strategy; he always had the sharpest mind for war. Kael... well, Kael was fire. He charged first, blade in hand, fearless. And me, " he paused, looking at me, his eyes glinting, "I was the one who kept the men together. They listened to me. They followed me."

I smiled faintly, my chest swelling with something warm. "So even at twelve, you were already an Alpha." Chapters fırst released on 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡•𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚•𝙣𝙚𝙩

His lips curved slowly, pride and softness mingling. "Yes. That day, we didn’t just win. We proved we were worthy. We pushed the rogues back so hard they never dared attack that village again."

I shook my head, laughing in disbelief. "Twelve years old, leading a war... Damon, that sounds like a tale from the old songs."

"It was real," he said, leaning closer. "And I’ll never forget the look on our warriors’ faces when the battle was done. They didn’t see children anymore. They saw leaders."

His eyes softened at that. "And yet here I am, brought low by a simple cold."

I laughed quietly, shaking my head. "Even wolves need rest."

Then, our little chat was cut off by the maids, bringing in our lunch.

The trays were set carefully on the table: warm bread, roasted meat, spiced vegetables, and a light broth to soothe Damon’s stomach. I rose quickly, taking the dishes myself and bringing them closer to the bed. Damon had woken fully by then, his eyes steady on me, though he still looked weak.

"You shouldn’t be lifting trays," he murmured, his lips curving faintly. "That’s what the maids are for."

I gave him a look, setting the dishes down. "And you shouldn’t be making me worry, but here we are."

He chuckled softly, a sound that always made my heart flutter. "Fair enough."

I settled beside him, arranging the food.

He gave me a sly smile. "Will you feed me again?"

I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks burned. "You’re impossible. But yes."

We began our meal together. I broke off pieces of bread, dipped them in broth, and brought them to his lips. He teased me, leaning back as if making me chase him with the food, until I scolded him and he laughed, finally taking the bite.

"You’re a terrible patient," I muttered.

"And you’re a perfect doctor," he shot back.

I fed him slowly, taking bites myself when he insisted. He even lifted a spoon now and then, feeding me pieces of meat, smirking every time broth dripped on my lips so he could wipe it away with his thumb. We laughed softly, teasing each other about who made the bigger mess.

For a short while, everything felt peaceful. Warm. Almost like a dream I didn’t want to wake from.

But then, halfway through the meal, Damon paused. The spoon in his hand slipped back into the bowl with a soft clink. Slowly, he set it down.

"Damon?" I asked, frowning.

He pressed a hand to his stomach, his expression tightening. "It’s nothing. Maybe I ate too fast."

But I could see it wasn’t anything. His jaw clenched, his body tensed, and he leaned forward slightly, his hand pressing harder against his abdomen.

"Damon, talk to me," I said quickly, fear creeping into my voice. "What’s wrong?"

He drew in a shaky breath. "It’s... pain," he admitted through gritted teeth. "In my stomach. Sharp... burning pain."

He groaned, his strength fading as he slumped back against the cushions. Sweat broke out across his forehead, rolling down his temple. His breathing grew uneven, shallow.

"Guards!" I screamed, my voice raw with fear. "Get the doctor! Now!"

The guards at the door rushed in, alarm written on their faces. "Yes, my lady!" one shouted, before they both bolted down the corridor.

I turned back to Damon, my hands trembling as I cupped his face.

He tried to speak, his lips parting, but no words came out. His body shuddered faintly, and my tears blurred everything before me.

"Don’t you dare leave me, Damon. Don’t you dare!" I sobbed, my voice cracking.