Belo
"It's a long story, Alpha. After I fell ill, I wandered—desperate. Fever consumed me, pain relentless. Every pack turned me away. I was ready to give up." Harvey paused, emotion thick in his voice. His dark‑blonde hair was still wild from the journey, brushing against his jaw. His once-dull green eyes were now bright and clear, restored by Elara's treatment.
"Then," he continued, "I stumbled upon the Siberian pack."
Lucian leaned forward, every muscle tense. He was a striking figure—tall, broad‑shouldered, with sharp features framed by silver‑streaked black hair. His eyes, a deep storm‑grey, burned with worry and authority. He gripped the arm of his chair so tightly his knuckles whitened.
"The Siberians?" he said slowly. "They've avoided other packs for decades. Why would they help you?"
Harvey nodded. "They didn't turn me away. They took me in and treated me. The healer, Elara… she knew the cure."
Lucian's breath hitched. "A cure?" His voice trembled between disbelief and hope. "What is it made of?"
"Just a blend of herbs, roots, a moss unique to their territory. Elara prepares it herself. It targets the infection, it strengthens immunity and restores defenses."
Lucian's eyes widened, hope igniting. "And it worked? Completely? No lingering effects?"
"Completely," Harvey confirmed, lifting his fully healed hand. "The fever broke in days. Pain gone. Strength returned. I'm healed Alpha, and I'm stronger than I've felt in years."
Lucian shot to his feet, pacing. His movements were sharp, driven by rising adrenaline. "This changes everything! We can save our pack—our children—end this nightmare!" He stopped abruptly, the spark of hope shadowed by worry. "But… will they accept it?"
Harvey stiffened. "Accept what, Alpha?"
Lucian turned, jaw tight. "A cure from the Siberians. Our pack has generations of resentment. Will they accept medicine made by wolves they despise? Will they see past hatred when their lives depend on it?"
Harvey's face fell. He hadn't considered that. The joy of being healed had blinded him to Stone Haven's deep-rooted prejudice.
"I… I don't know," he admitted quietly. "But we have to try. Their lives are worth more than old grudges."
Lucian ran a hand through his hair, tension etched into every line of his face. "I know. It won't be easy, there will be resistance. Accusations. Refusal. But…"
His voice broke.
"I'm willing to face it. For Bella's sake."
Lucian entered Bella's room.
The air was thick with fever, herbs, and worry. Soft light from the window spilled across the bed where Bella lay.
Bella had always been breathtaking, her warm auburn curls cascading down her shoulders, freckles dusting her cheeks, and bright honey‑brown eyes that once sparkled with mischief. But now her curls clung damply to her pallid skin, and her eyes were dull, rimmed with exhaustion.
Lucian's heart clenched.
He knelt beside her, brushing a trembling hand over her forehead. "How are you feeling, mo chroí?" he whispered, using the Gaelic nickname she loved.
Bella's eyes fluttered open, her dry, cracked lips pulling into a weak smile. "Better now that you're here," she rasped.
She lifted a trembling hand. Lucian immediately took it, squeezing gently.
She coughed a harsh, rattling sound that made Lucian flinch.
"I don't want to die, Lucian," she whispered, tears gathering in her lashes. "I don't want to leave you."
Lucian's throat tightened. He fought to steady his voice. "You're not going to die. I won't let you." His voice trembled despite his efforts. "Harvey found a cure. A Siberian healer named Elara. She saved him. And she can save you too."
Bella's dim eyes widened, a fragile spark of hope forming. "A cure? From the Siberians? But..."
Lucian cut her off gently. "It doesn't matter. All that matters is saving you. I'll bring you that cure. I swear it."
He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before rising. As he stepped out of the room, determination hardened every muscle.
He would tear down centuries of hatred if it meant saving her.
Lucian exhaled sharply, steeling himself. "I'll call a council meeting," he declared. "Present the evidence. Let them decide. It's the only way to test their prejudice. To see whether they value pride… or the lives of their own people."
The council hall buzzed with tension, fear, suspicion and hope.
High‑ranking Stone Haven wolves gathered, faces grim.
Lucian stood at the front, tall and commanding despite the weight on his shoulders. "Our pack suffers," he began, voice echoing through the hall. "This disease spreads like wildfire, it's claiming our children, weakening our warriors and threatening our future. Harvey has returned from the brink of death with a cure and the healer is a Siberian wolf."
A wave of murmurs rippled through the room.
"I called you today," Lucian continued, "because we must decide: seek their help… or cling to hatred and risk losing everything."
A council member shot to his feet. "Why trust them? The Siberians will use this to undermine us!"
Another countered, voice breaking. "Our children are dying! Will pride bury them too?"
A third snarled, "We are Stone Haven! Strong enough to find our own way! We don't need their pity or their cure!"
Harvey stepped forward, emotion thick. "I was like you, blinded by hatred. But when I was dying, every pack turned me away except them. They saved me without hesitation. For our pack and our future, we must put aside pride."
Hours of arguments followed. Pleas. Accusations. Tears. Desperation.
Finally, Lucian called for the vote.
The hall fell silent.
One by one, council members cast their ballots.
The tension was knife‑sharp.
The votes were tallied, close, decisive… and ready to change everything.