The Lycan King's Healer

When I regained consciousness, I couldn't open my eyes adequately. I even rubbed them to make sure the blurring didn't hurt. I continue to hold my head because it still aches. I attempted to recall what had happened last night , but it was as if I were a corpse standing up from the pit. I sprinted to the restroom to check for Amoux's bite on me. I combed my hair and checked behind my neck... I was disappointed, but I also relaxed since he didn't bite me.

Maybe I'm delusory if I think he'll imprint me... Or perhaps not.

I totally dismissed it in my mind and prepared to return to the forest in search of a remedy that may perhaps be utilized for major disorders that were not visible in the body. Helena taught me that the wound or illness wasn't only obvious to the naked eye — even if she didn't tell me that; I already knew. I don't need to see the wolves' laying bodies to know they're sick; even if their bodies are still robust, I can hear their pulse and tell if it's strong or weak.

I put on a coat like Little Red Riding Hood's when I finished showering. This is what I generally wear to avoid attracting wolves when walking. Maybe they'll hurl me or fling me at the planted plants if they notice me. It is not a good idea to harm the seedlings in the forest. I was ready to depart when my door was knocked on. I wouldn't have opened it; this is another wolf attempting to obstruct my exit in order to chastise me for what I'm doing. Even though I don't want to open it, I have no option but to do so.

I was clutching my basket when I opened my wobbly door, which was on the verge of collapsing. The sweaty face of the man who had come here last night to fetch Amoux flashed in front of my eyes. I scowled as he took a deep drag, took in the air, and struggled for breath. Who else could be a wolf in pain, and this is the look of horror on his face? He drew my hand out to say what he needed to say before I could ask.

"You have been summoned by the Lycan king. He himself directed me to come here so that you may treat Amoux's unhealed wounds. Every time he tried to restore his strength, his wounds became deeper and deeper—”

I didn't let the man finish speaking and was rushing ahead of him. I couldn't carry medicines, so I had just one option. That would transfer the pain to my body. I'm not sure what his ailment is, and based on what the guy stated, it appears that I haven't discovered a cure for it so far . The man has shifted and is now in front of me. If I could just manage the shift, I wouldn't have a problem going to him right now.

As I could see the palace, I was still carrying the basket and wearing a scarlet coat I had sewn myself. When I stepped in, I gasped when I saw Luna Rosette, the mate of the Lycan king, sitting close to her son, while Amoux couldn't supply oxygen. His eyes were closed, and his expression showed how he was dealing with the discomfort. I examined his wounds and discovered that these were not typical scars. Poison is plastered to them. When I glanced at their expressions, I noticed that they were all focused on me. As I could hear Amoux's pulse decreasing, my heart was at the bottom of the abyss.

"I will kneel in front of you as long as you save my son," she pleaded as she took my hand in her. I witnessed her concern for her son, and deliberately, since the slowing of Amoux's heartbeat had not been removed from my ear, I took Rosette's hand, placed it back on her lap, and returned my focus to Amoux.

I counted his wounds and identified seven. With the sort of toxin tied to them, I understood it might eat away my life for several years. It's also conceivable that I'm unable to bear with the torment since only a witch can concoct poison like this. During my journey in the woods, I learnt, including the numerous sorts of diseases that witches create and their intentions. They also have varying degrees of power or ability. The ability I now wield is the transferring pain. I studied it for many years and it is flawless. But I'm hoping I can do it correctly since it's conceivable that Amoux and I will both get harmed if I make a mistake.

I closed my eyes and placed my palm on his chest to concentrate on what I was doing. I can already feel the light entering my chest as the surroundings begin to heat up. Because my heart does the greatest harm, this is what I focus on the most. My leg was deteriorating and my body was about to give up until the two wounds were removed. I opened one eye to see if there was any more progress, and I saw that Amoux's breathing was becoming better, so I exhaled and closed my eyes again. Because I'm already in pain, sweat is streaming down my neck.

When I had completely depleted his wound. I've already blinked open my eyes. I saw his eyes open and smiled at him before passing out. My neck and heart felt bound, like if metal were searing my back.

"I'm relieved..."

My voice was weak, but before I fell to the floor and everything went dark, he held the back of my body . Even before the voices vanished around me, I heard his firm voice, the release of his fang, and the way he gazed at me using his dagger eyes.

"You have a thing for misfortune."

Ah. I am madly in love with this man.