Chapter 11: Alkan - Fated to the Night King

The doctor hurried ahead of me, checking over his shoulder every few steps to ensure I was still behind him. As if I could wander off and get lost in the fortress I ruled.

"You're a riot of nerves, Danvers. It's not a handsome look." My comment earned me only another exasperated glance as the healer quickened his pace. He didn't bother to greet any of the other court members as we passed them by. His demeanor was so out of character it made me apprehensive of what he needed to show me that would prompt such a reaction.

Danvers led me into the infirmary, passing the few occupied beds with a casual nod to his patients, but his steps didn't slow.

We arrived at his office, the solid hazelwood door shut fast. The man's hand shook as he tried to slide the key into the lock. I finally took it from him, slipped the heavy metal key into place, and turned it. The latch clicked over and Danvers twisted the knob, opening the door only wide enough for the two of us to slide through.

A book hit the wall and Danvers jumped back. "Oh no, she's awake."

A woman stood there, her slight form trembling as she braced herself against the rough stone wall at the back of the small room. A bed had been set up in here, the sheets and blanket in a pile on the floor. She held her hand out as if she could keep us at bay with just a gesture. There was no way to miss the wounds that covered her. A bruise the size of a fist covered the right side of her face, darkening to purple, and there were cuts on her outstretched arm that had clotted over. Even with that, the smell of her blood was strong in the confines of the small space, and it took effort to keep my face calm and not betray the hunger that was rising up in response to her scent.

"This is Danvers, Miss. He's our doctor.  He's only caring for you." She looked frail, about to collapse on her feet, and she opened her mouth to speak, but no sound escaped.

She wavered on her feet, and I slipped around the healer, dashing to her side as the fragile woman's knees buckled. She dropped and I caught her just as her strength gave out. I wrapped my arms around her, thankful for the speed my kind had as part of our nature.

"A little help would be appreciated, Danvers." Lifting her up, I held her securely against my chest. "I'm assuming you didn't bring me here to protect you from your own patient."

The slight man shook his head. "No. Not at all. I thought she would still be unconscious."

"Clearly."

Danvers pulled the bed back into place, lining it up beside the wall, and then pointed at me. "Put her here, sir. She overexerted herself with this display and should be out for a while now."

I arranged her carefully on the bed, adjusting the pillow until her head seemed to be at a comfortable angle. Her body told a whole story in an assessing glance, and the sight made me angry. So much abuse directed against this one person, and the urge to seek out those who'd done this to her. To exact justice.

"She's hurt, Danvers."

The small man nodded as he riffled through the papers spread across the surface of his worktable. "Yes, yes. I'm aware. And I've treated all her visible wounds. Rest is what will benefit her most at this time."

I gave her another worried look, picking up the blanket from where it had been tossed aside, and covering her with it. The fortress here could be cold at times, the rock we'd built upon not the warmest of materials. She looked frail enough that catching a chill might be enough to kill her. The instinct to protect her was growing and I wasn't sure what to do with that.

"Why am I here?" I had meetings, as my healer knew quite well, and there was always business that required my attention.

"This, sir," said Danvers, pulling my attention away from the patient and back to him. "This is what I needed you to see."

He slid a glass slide from an envelope and placed it onto the plate at the base of his scope. "Look through here, and you'll see the image, magnified."

I did as he directed, leveling my gaze through the lenses at the top, and taking in the sight of a gob of gelatinous red and black smeared onto the slide. It smelled of old blood, again reminding me that I needed to feed when a break in my schedule allowed, and I pulled back to look at Danvers. "It's blood. You wanted me to look at blood?"

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"Yes." The healer went up on his tiptoes in excitement, nudging me out of the way as he looked down through the scope. "Did you see the markers?"

I crossed my arms over my chest. The man was a talented physician, but there was a bit of eccentricity about him as well. "Markers?"

"Yes. They're clearly there." He waved me over again, turning the dials on his machine before letting me take his place.

I bent, looking down at the slide once more, and the sample came more clearly into focus this time. The red and black were layered on top of each other, but also, in the midst of it all, I caught the shine of something metallic.

"Is that ...? I trailed off, my focus drifting back to the young, wounded woman, who was now clutching at the blanket I'd draped over her like it was a lifeline. Her eyes fluttered beneath the closed lids, and I wondered if she was caught in a nightmare right now.

"Silver, sir, yes. She has all the markers we've seen." Danvers whispered loudly to me as he grabbed a pen and scratched away at his notes. "When she arrived, I took a sample, as has become our habit when anyone is brought in, and didn't get a chance to look at it until just before I sought you out. I can't believe it."

"Who brought her in?"

Danvers looked at me like he'd already forgotten and tapped his chin as he thought. "Um, sir, well, yes, it was Gil. Said he and Chancel found her dumped in a ditch beside the road at the border while they were on patrol. She'd been stripped bare. They found no clothes of hers nearby, so they wrapped her in a cloak and Gil brought her straight to me."

Silence spread between us as we both watched the sleeping woman. It was the healer who broke it first.

"I was as gentle as I could be, sir, during the examination. The damage done to her was extensive. Chancel worked with me to stabilize her, and I believe we were able to stem the internal bleeding."

"Who did this to her?" I hated to think any of my own people would do such a thing, but the question had to be asked.

"Well, based on where she was found, I'd have to say it's most likely her own people are the ones responsible." At my questioning look, he added, "Gil and Chancel were certain no one from the fortress had been on the road yet before their arrival, and the few tracks they were able to find led back into the forest, toward the Pack Lands. There were small remnants of flesh and blood under her nails. I preserved the samples for later analysis, which could confirm if it was shifters that did this to her. But more importantly, I believe she's one of the Stricken, sir. And with the amount of silver in her blood, I'd guess she was an early survivor."

He watched me, twisting his hands with worry as I puzzled over the pieces of this mystery. "You believe she is one of Alpha Thalon's own Stricken?"

"Alkan," his own concern overriding his decorum as he used my given name, "I think she might actually be the first survivor of the Silver Sickness. The one we've been looking for."

I nodded, certainty settling into my gut. "Which means one thing, Danvers."

"I know, sir. I thought it, too."

My gaze returned to the woman sleeping on the cot against the wall. There was no way to overlook the bruising that mottled every area of her exposed skin. The instinct that had forced me into the role of King among my people surged up again, stronger this time, and I scrubbed my hand through my hair. I'd sworn to protect my people. To make the Night Kingdom a safe place for them and those who chose to join our court. Having this woman here could threaten the peace we'd achieved. The work we'd done to create alliances. And yet she was exactly what we needed in this moment.

I spoke the words aloud, knowing that Danvers was too afraid to do so.

"She is a trap. One set for all of us."