The Alpha's Prize

32

Word Count: 1849

~Hunter

I draw in a deep breath, facing the grey building with my shoulders squared back.

Kaan and I have enjoyed our time in privacy, but it's time to return home. He has duties he needs to attend to, even if neither of us wants to leave the perfect bubble we have created.

On the way home, he stopped us at the physician he was talking about who is apparently one of the best in the Pack.

It's time I get answers about what's going on with my back.

"I can't believe you are making me do this," I say, casting a look at my mate who stands next to me.

Admittedly, I'm nervous. I'm afraid I'm going to be told there is no healing from the chronic pain that plagues me. I'm afraid this is forever.

"As much as I would love to give you back massages for the rest of my life, I think we need to see a professional about why you're not fully healing." He flicks my nose, grinning.

I scowl at him, although I wouldn't complain about back massages forever either.

Regardless of the pain, I hope he never stops doing more than just the massages...

"I know you're right. I just don't like being looked at by strangers," I say anxiously. There is something so vulnerable about being inspected.

"It will be okay." He nods to the door. "Come on."

We step inside, the room bright and cool. The sterile, simple nature of it sends a shiver down my spine, but I know this is what I need. The medicine stacked in glass door cabinets already looks superior to anything I've seen before.

A man steps in from the other room, a look of shock passing over his features as he takes me in.

"Princess Livia."

My eyes widen. "Oh...ah-"

Kaan slides his hand behind my back, resting it on my hip. I'm grateful he now knows my secret, otherwise, this would be a very uncomfortable altercation.

"This is my wife, Hunter," Kaan tell him. It's soft enough to seem unoffensive, but firm enough to let him know he shouldn't speak my past name again.

The older man clears his throat uncomfortably, smoothing a hand down his unwrinkled white shirt.

"Right. My apologies Prince Kaan. Congratulations on your recent wedding. Both of you."

I smile tightly. "Thank you."

I wonder if I'll ever be able to shrug off my old life.

"My name is Ronan and I've been a physician for many years. I'm assuming my skills are why you're here." He clasps his hands together, looking between Kaan and I.

"We are here because my wife was shot in the back many months ago by a poisoned arrow and she isn't healing," Kaan explains, grimacing a little.

He's leaving out the critical detail that he was the one who shot me in the back, although I suppose it's water under the bridge now.

And it truly is. I've moved past that.

"Let me take a look." Ronan gestures to the medical bed in the centre of the room.

I oblige him, pain shooting up my legs and to my back as I lay on my stomach. Everything aches, but that's why I'm here.

Ronan comes up beside me, pulling some gloves on before he lifts up my shirt. No one has told me how bad the wound is on my back, but I suspect it doesn't look pretty.

Kaan stands beside the bed, watching with concern etched between his brows.

Ronan rubs his hands over the mass of scar tissue on my lower back, his silence stretching over the room.

"Your wound has healed very well," Ronan murmurs.

I frown. I wasn't expecting that. Part of me assumed the wound was the problem, or perhaps it's beyond my skin. Perhaps it's my muscle, my nerves.

"What are your symptoms?" Ronan asks.

"I am weak. I'm struggling to build muscle, even to walk sometimes. By the end of the day, I'm in so much pain and I'm exhausted," I exclaim, feeling his cool fingers brush along my skin as he examines me.

"Anything else not related to the pain?"

I pause, thinking. The pain in my back and legs makes everything else seem mild in comparison, but there have been some things bothering me.

"I'm thirsty more often recently than usual. My mouth is tender...I'm not sure what else," I say.

Kaan tilts his head, frowning a little. I can tell he hates that he didn't know I was going through that.

Ronan encourages me to sit up before he opens some drawers, gathering the tools he needs onto a metal tray with wheels. He drags it over to the bed before he faces me.

"I'm going to place this against your inner cheek for a second." He holds up a long stick with a cotton end to it.

"What is it?" I ask nervously.

"Open your mouth," he encourages.

I do so. He rubs it along my cheek, leaving a dry feeling in its wake before he steps back to the bench.

Kaan and I exchange long looks, worry starting to burrow into the depths of my stomach. Ronan's silence could mean many things, and I'm starting to worry this is more serious than we thought.

Ronan plucks out a vial of clear liquid. I just see around his arm as he plunges the cotton stick into the liquid, the product turning a dark shade of green.

"Is everything okay?" Kaan questions worriedly.

Ronan sighs, turning around to show us the vial.

"This is marking positive for traces of poison. I will need to take some blood to be sure, but this seems fairly conclusive," he explains.

My eyes widen. Poison?

I don't feel poisoned, or perhaps that's the point. But why? Who would do this to me?

"Poison? What kind of poison?" Kaan growls, a cold, dark rage passing over his features as he looks between me and the vial.

"I suspect it's a herb that grows native around here. It's not rare, although all the locals know to stay far away from it," Ronan states.

"So it's poison keeping her from healing?" Kaan asks. He's speaking for me because I'm struck into stunned silence.

"She is fully healed from what I can tell," Ronan states. "You are feeling unwell due to the effects of the poison."

I glance up at my mate, who is clearly as taken aback by this information as I am. Whoever is doing this to me is going to feel both of our wrath.

"I've been feeling like this for months," I whisper.

"In the right dose, this can be lethal. Otherwise, it just causes uncomfortable symptoms."

"Uncomfortable? I can hardly walk."

I clutch my stomach, nausea rolling through me. All this time I thought I couldn't escape, that I was stuck in that place because of my injury. In reality, I had fully healed, and it was the poison chaining me to that place.

"I imagine it's a strong dose. Perhaps you've accidentally been ingesting it," Ronan offers, not wanting to dig up any problems.

I shake my head. "I've eaten the same as everyone else."

"I hate to suggest this then, but perhaps someone is intentionally putting the herb in your food," he offers.

Kaan rubs his hand down his face, his anger evident in his expression, his posture, everything. I can see him silently cursing himself for allowing this to happen in his own home.

"Take her blood test and then I am taking her home," Kaan demands. "We have a lot to discuss."

Ronan takes no time at all drawing my blood before promising he would get back to us with the confirmation. It seems pretty clear, however, that I've been poisoned, and it's not by any accident.

Kaan is quiet for the first few minutes as we get back into the transport, simmering with icy rage.

"Who is doing this?" I ask into the air.

"I have a guess..." Kaan's eyes are dark.

My fingers knot together on my lap. "Me too."

"You first."

"Vinn. If he can't have me, he would rather me be dead," I say. It's the first thing coming to mind, since he's burned me so many times at this point, poisoning would be his most reasonable crime.

Kaan shakes his head, not convinced.

"If you don't know about the herb, I doubt he would."

"He could have hired someone to administer it," I bring up. If anyone were capable of turning staff in the manor to spies willing to do his dirty work, it would be him.

"That would mean he's known you've been here from practically the beginning," Kaan says.

I let out a breath. True. Even Vinn doesn't have the patience to wait to announce himself. He would much rather have given me a lethal dose.

"What's your guess?" I ask grimly.

"My parents."

I slam my hand over my face. "Oh great..."

Of course it would be his parents. Now that they have secured more favour with their Pack members, I'm sure they are more than ready to kill me off or keep me weak enough that I'm not a problem.

"If you were to die, it would take away all their problems," Kaan muses, shaking his head like the notion is perfectly normal to him.

I don't know what the history is between his parents and him, but he obviously harbours deep resentment for them and has no problem thinking they are capable of doing this to me.

"But they want me married to you," I remind him.

"Things change. Plus, they would never reveal their true intentions." He leans forward, bracing his forearms on his knees.

I tilt my head back, resting it on the seat. "This is bad."

"I know what the herb tastes like. I've used it for hunting before and one time I ingested some accidentally from a kill," Kaan explains, shuddering at the memory.

"What does it taste like?" I ask warily, hoping that I can keep an eye out for it in my food.

"It's pleasant, actually." He takes my hand into his, his touch immediately soothing my worries. "I was off for a week after. I can't imagine what you're going through."

I offer a smile, but I feel anything but happy right now.

I'm living with someone who wants to hurt me. It's unlikely they are from the outside, even if it is possible. It means I'm never safe, and if they find out their poison isn't working on me anymore, they may do worse things to keep me sick.

"As long as it stops now," I murmur, squeezing my eyes shut.

"I'm going to find who did this. Okay?" Kaan assures me.

I believe him. I just hope we can figure this out soon.

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