Colton's POV
I approached the hospital bed slowly, my gaze fixed on Hazel's fragile form beneath the crisp white sheets. She looked so breakable. My eyes flicked toward the doctor, who was jotting notes into his pad. He had just finished examining her, and the grave set of his features told me more than I wanted to know.
"How is she?" My voice was tense, and though I tried to hide it, I failed. The bandages wrapped around her worried me most.
I remembered how terrible she'd looked when I first brought her here. Even with her self-healing abilities and the doctor's swift, effective treatment, she still looked broken. I brushed my fingers lightly over the edge of a wound before turning back to him.
"She's going to need time to heal," he said. "The wounds are deep, but with proper care, she should recover. Her progress has been good so far, though you might not notice because the injuries were severe."
One thing I appreciated about this man—he never sugarcoated anything. I nodded.
"Please… do everything you can for her. If you need anything—anything at all—just call me."
He gave me a reassuring smile and left.
When we were alone, I looked back at Hazel. Was this an accident… or had she truly wanted to end her life?
We had been patrolling the borders last night when one of my men reported a lone figure on a cliff. I sent someone to investigate, but before he could reach her, she fell.
Thankfully, others were stationed at the base of the cliff. She survived the fall, but not without smashing against jagged rocks on the way down. It shocked me that my brother hadn't bothered to visit her, even after hearing what happened. That alone raised too many questions.
As Liam's twin, I held equal rank in the Luparian kingdom—at least in theory. In reality, I was a puppet, dancing to his strings. Liam was ruthless, always quick to choose violence when other solutions existed. I'd learned the hard way not to interfere in his affairs.
But his cruelty wasn't limited to politics. He was unfaithful and treated Hazel like nothing. I'd always felt something for her, though I never allowed myself to act on it. Duty had been drilled into me since birth. That changed the day I met her.
I had just returned from a devastating battle—men slaughtered, our forces humiliated by rogues. Every step back into the pack hospital felt heavier than the last. Inside, warriors were rushed in on stretchers, medics barking orders, the air thick with blood and pain.
That's when I bumped into her.
"Watch where you're going!" I snapped, frustration spilling over.
Then I saw her face—frightened, delicate—and my tone softened instantly. "I… I'm sorry. Are you hurt?"
Her eyes darted to my uniform before returning to my face. "You're wounded," she said, worry in her voice.
"It's nothing," I muttered.
"It could fester. If it's not treated properly, you could… die."
"And how would you know that?" I asked, my voice sharp.
"Wolfsbane," she stammered. "Your blood is darkening. Many of your men—"
"Fine. Make it quick. I have men to look after."
She led me into a ward, the screams of the injured ringing around us.
"Here, bite this." She handed me a strip of wood. "It'll hurt, but not too much."
The antiseptic stung like fire. She worked quickly with tweezers, digging out debris from the wound. I gritted my teeth, trying not to cry out—until a foul black liquid oozed out. The pain spiked so sharply I couldn't stop the scream that tore from my throat.
"What the hell was that?!" I hissed.
"That was the poison," she replied, smirking. "If I hadn't spotted it, you'd be dead. Your men would be embarrassed to see you screaming like that."
Despite myself, I chuckled. "What's your name?"
"Hazel."
"Thank you. I owe you my life."
"I suggest you rest. There's nothing you can do for your men right now. We'll do our best for them. Stay strong, soldier."
Our eyes locked for a moment. Something about her radiated warmth and hope—two things I'd thought I'd lost that day.
Someone called her from behind, and she slipped away into the crowd. I watched until she disappeared.
From that day on, I was drawn to her. She belonged to my brother, but I couldn't help myself. I helped her however I could, even if she never knew it was me—believing instead that Liam had done those things. It didn't matter. All that mattered was her safety.
But lately, Liam's cruelty had grown worse, and my patience thinner. When I confronted him, his answer was a warning:
"You bring this up again, Colton, and I'll consider it a challenge to my authority. You know what I do to traitors. Leave if you're tired of my rule, but never question me again."
Since then, we'd barely spoken.
Now, as I sat by Hazel's bed, movement caught my eye.
Her eyelids fluttered open, her gaze hazy and frightened. "Colton?" she croaked.
"Yes, it's me," I said softly. "You're safe now. How do you feel?"
"I'm… alive?"
"Of course. What do you mean?"
"How?" she pressed.
"We rescued you before you hit the ground. You were unconscious, but we got you to safety."
She let out a heavy sigh—not relief, but defeat. "You shouldn't have bothered. You should've just let me die."
The words hit like a blade. "Why would you say that? Don't tell me you really wanted to—"
"I don't care anymore. I'd rather die than keep living like this." Tears welled in her eyes.
"Hazel, please. We can fix this. I'm here for you."
"There's nothing you can do," she whispered.
"There is, actually." I hesitated, knowing this was my chance. "If I leave you with my brother, he'll kill you—one way or another."
Her gaze locked on mine. "What's your idea?"
"It's crazy… and you might refuse. But if you really want out, I'll help you."
She swallowed hard. "What is it?"
I leaned closer. "Escape the pack with me."