Betrayed by Blood, Claimed by the Alpha
Chapter 86

Chapter 86: Chapter 86

Betrayed by Blood

The sun was already high in the sky, it’s warm rays filtering through the windows of the servant quarters. Avery folded the last of her freshly washed clothes, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips—a smile she hadn’t worn in what felt like weeks. Today was her first break since arriving in Cain’s pack, and it felt like a long-awaited gift.

The head maid had announced earlier that morning that with the arrival of several new servants, the workload was lighter, allowing the older servants a day to rest. Avery had almost dropped the tray she was carrying in disbelief at the news. A whole day without scrubbing floors, hauling linens, or enduring Martha’s sharp tongue? It sounded almost too good to be true.

As she tucked her clothes into the modest dresser beside her bed, she allowed herself to think about how she’d spend the day. Maybe she’d find a quiet spot near the woods to read—if she could borrow a book from the library. She doubted it, though. But maybe she could simply wander the grounds without the weight of a hundred tasks pressing down on her shoulders. Then again, she could very easily run into Martha or Lady Williams. No, that sounded draining already. She could also just spend the day sleeping.

Life in Vehiron was actually very daunting. Avery was only allowed four hours of sleep each day and had now grown accustomed to it. But today, she couldn’t try to sleep for longer than four hours. It sounded like a dream.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. It creaked open, revealing one of the maids, her face flushed as though she’d been working. "Avery," she said breathlessly. "The head maid asked you to deliver this to the pack hospital. It’s urgent, so don’t waste time."

Avery frowned slightly, her fingers brushing against the small, wrapped parcel the girl extended to her. "The pack hospital? Is something wrong?"

The maid shrugged. "It’s just some supplies they requested. With the influx of new warriors, they’ve been running out of things left and right. Apparently, sparring’s gotten a bit... intense, and they keep receiving patients every hour," she replied.

Avery nodded, "Alright. I’ll drop it off."

As the maid hurried off, Avery sighed, slipping the parcel into the pocket of her apron. So much for a perfectly lazy day. Still, the hospital wasn’t far. She could do it and still come back to rest. It wasn’t all spoiled.

Minutes later, Avery found herself outside the servant quarters, walking towards the pack hospital. She was thankful she’d reduced the way she was getting injured back then. She had actually gotten embarrassed when the doctor called her out, talking about being a frequent visitor. Avery shook her head as her thoughts swayed over to Xander, who had once brought her here. She tried her best not to think of everything that’s been happening with him and just pretend like everything was right. That’s the only thing she was used to.

She shook her head again, driving the thoughts away. The pack hospital was a modest building, sitting on the edge of the training grounds. As Avery approached, the air buzzed with commotion. It was exactly like the maid had said, she thought to herself. The sounds of groaning patients, clinking metal instruments, and the sharp barks of orders from the head doctor spilled all reached her ears before she even took a step in.

When she stepped inside, the sight nearly made her pause. Beds and benches lined against the walls, each occupied by a warrior nursing an injury—some with bandaged arms, others with ice packs pressed to bruised faces. A few were sprawled on the floor, waiting their turn for attention.

A nurse rushed past her, carrying a tray of bloodied bandages, while another frantically searched through cabinets for more supplies.

Avery quickly approached the desk, where the doctor was scribbling notes on a clipboard. "Excuse me," she said, holding out the package. "The head maid sent this over."

The doctor barely looked up as he grabbed the parcel from her hands. "Thanks," he muttered distractedly.

Before Avery could turn to leave, a pained groan caught her attention. She glanced to her left and saw a young warrior clutching his arm, his face pale and drenched in sweat. He couldn’t have been much older than her, and the jagged wound running down his forearm looked fresh.

The doctor followed her gaze, then sighed heavily. "Damn recruits," he muttered under his breath. "They think sparring is a free-for-all and end up like this." He shook his head, running a hand through his graying hair. "Everyone wants to become a warrior, and none of them ever pause to think maybe being a guard is easier. Fucking nitwits," the man grumbled under his breath.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Avery asked before she could stop herself.

The doctor finally looked at her, his eyes narrowing in doubt. "You? Help? Aren’t you even more clumsy than-" he stopped himself, seeing Avery’s face flush red in embarrassment.

"I’m not a nurse, and I know I’m clumsy, but I’ve gotten better," she admitted, "and I’ve done basic first aid before. I can clean wounds, bandage them... whatever you need."

He hesitated, clearly torn. After a beat, he nodded. "Fine. We’re short on hands as it is. Just follow my instructions, and don’t do anything unless I tell you to."

Avery nodded, rolling up her sleeves. She hadn’t planned on spending her break like this, but she couldn’t just walk away when people needed help.

Avery moved from patient to patient, her hands steady despite the way her nerves threatened to explode.

She worked quickly but carefully, following the doctor’s instructions as she cleaned cuts, applied salves, and wrapped bandages.

"You’re a natural," one of the nurses commented, pausing to catch her breath.

Avery couldn’t help but smile at that. She shook her head shyly. "Not really. Just used to helping out back home." That wasn’t a lie. She truly did anything for her cousins. She had to, not when she knew a single scratch on their body meant an everlasting beating for her.

As she finished tying off a bandage around a warrior’s hand, she glanced at a warrior who sat at the far corner, his gaze intense on her. He smiled when their eyes met.

"Hey there," he said as she made her way towards him, now able to see him properly. He was a tall, broad-shouldered warrior with unruly dark hair and a roguish grin. He cradled his left arm, blood trickling down from a nasty scrape on his forearm. Despite his injury, his smile was easy.

"You’re new here, aren’t you?" he asked, his tone light and teasing.

Avery blinked, caught off guard by his directness. "And you aren’t?" she replied.

His smile deepened at her retort. "Touche. You just seem so different from the rest." At this, Avery resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He was using one of the oldest lines in history. ’You’re not like other girls.’ Really?

The warrior tilted his head, his eyes scanning her face. "So what are you? You don’t look like a nurse, and you’re definitely not one of the warriors. Too pretty for either, if you ask me."

Avery flushed, quickly looking back down at the bandages in her hands. "I’m just helping out," she said curtly.

"Well, I’m glad you are," he said, leaning closer, "Because I’ve got a nasty scrape here that could really use your attention."

Reluctantly, Avery nodded, pulling on a pair of gloves. "Let me see it."

He held out his arm, and she carefully inspected the wound. "It’s not deep," she said, grabbing a cloth to clean the blood away. "But you really should be more careful during sparring."

"Hard to be careful when you’re up against a guy twice your size," he said with a chuckle. "But hey, if getting injured means I get to meet you, maybe it’s not so bad."

Avery’s cheeks flushed again, but she kept her focus on his wound. "Stay still," she said.

"What’s your name?" he asked, ignoring her attempt to deflect.

"Avery," she said reluctantly.

"Avery," he repeated, testing the name on his tongue. "Pretty name for a pretty girl."

She bit the inside of her cheek, focusing on tying the bandage tightly around his arm. "There. All done," she said quickly, stepping back.

"Thanks, Avery," he said, flashing her another grin. "You’ve got a gentle touch. Maybe next time you can teach me a thing or two about how to avoid getting hurt. Or maybe-" his gaze flickered up to her neck, and his smile grew even more. "—Or maybe, you can accompany me for the moonlight festival. I heard it’s a sight to see here and unmated wolves get to propose to their fated wolves or intending."

Before Avery could respond, a low, dangerous growl cut through the noise of the hospital, freezing everyone in place.