Chapter 40 A Needle to the Heart


    <b>Henry’s </b>POV


    The moment I said yes, Aubrey smiled faintly–then copsed.


    I caught her just in time. Her body was ice cold.


    I immediately summoned the family’s wolf medic. Xavier Holt, an old man in his sixties, was sharp, experienced, and known throughout the region for his skill. He only needed a nce to make his <b>diagnosis</b>.


    “Exhaustion–induced syncope,” he said, frowning. “Alpha, this girl hasn’t slept for at least thirty hours.” Thirty hours?


    What the hell had she been doing? Or… had those two bastards scared her so badly she didn’t dare fall asleep?


    A strange pang of guilt tightened in my chest. She’d just turned eighteen. Still a young Omega without a wolf. No matter how brave she acted, it was only natural she’d be scared after going through something like that.


    Maybe… maybe I should treat her better.


    I turned away from her unconscious form and began unbuttoning my shirt.


    “Also, check this for me. She stuck a needle right here,” I said, pointing to a small red dot on my chest.


    Ever since Aubrey had stabbed me with that needle, I’d felt something change–like a wave of rity had swept through my entire body. All the exhaustion I’d carried from the day vanished in an instant. Even my wolf, Kr, had growled in surprise, saying he felt sharper, stronger.


    But I wasn’t sure if it was real–or just in my head.


    Xavier nced over with little interest at first–but the moment he saw the precise spot where the needle had gone in, his eyes widened.


    “She stabbed you… here?” he asked slowly.


    I nodded, a frown forming. “Why? Is there a problem?”


    He leaned in, squinting as he examined the mark. Then he let out a long whistle.


    “Moon Goddess… this technique was thought to be extinct! That’s a sealing needle–used to lock in a werewolf’s vital energy and protect the heart meridian. It’s usually only used in life–or–death situations to stabilize someone who’s critically injured.”


    He shook his head, clearly impressed. “Remarkable. I thought dry needling had gone out of fashion, but Ms. Aubrey… she knows the high arts. No need to worry–the needle will dissolve by tomorrow. But Alpha… why would she use a sealing needle on you?”


    Sealing needle? That’s not what she called it.


    “She said it was a heart pulse needle. That it would stay in me for a month,” I muttered.


    Kr growled low in my mind. “So who’s right? Her, or the old man?<b>” </b>


    MON <b>FIAU </b>


    Chapter 40 A Needle to <b>the </b>Heart


    <b>I </b>looked at <b>Xavier</b>. <b>“</b><b>Have </b>you ever heard of the heart pulse needle? <b>Is </b>it real<b>?</b><b>” </b>


    <b>He </b>paused. “Heart pulse needle… yes. Some call it the ultimate form of the sealing needle. <b>Supposedly</b>, It <b>lets </b>the user transfer their own energy directly into the heart meridian of another werewolf. For a <b>month </b>even on the brink of death, that werewolf will stay alive.”


    “But that’s just legend. It only exists in old texts. I mean–what werewolf could possibly control <b>something </b>as mystical as lunar essence?”


    I didn’t respond. But my gut told me….


    That was exactly what Aubrey had done.


    I remembered hearing that her grandfather came from the Alpha King’s royal court–one of the most <b>elite </b>circles in the realm. Bailey had shown medical talent too, enough to get early admission into a top werewolf medical university


    But now<b>… </b>


    Now I was beginning to believe Aubrey’s offer wasn’t just ambition. She might actually have the power to pull it off.


    After Xavier left, I didn’t move. I just sat there beside her bed, staring at her.


    Even asleep, her brows were furrowed. I reached out and gently tried to smooth them.


    They furrowed tighter.


    I withdrew my hand, lips pressed together.


    She looked different like this. Not cold. Not sharp. Just… quiet. Fragile, almost.


    Was it really her who jumped into the river that day?


    Was it really her who saved me from the undertow when I was nine?


    She’d been willing to die for me–even then?


    I stared at her for a while. Then, without thinking, reached out and flicked her cheek.


    “…I don’t have proof yet,” I whispered, “but I’ve decided to help you anyway. Not for the billion–dor trade…”


    “…Let’s just call it an apology. For the past.”


    I hope you’re not lying <i>to </i>me.