The Rejected Healer's Retribution

Mora's warning felt more like a countdown to disaster than advice. The vision from the scrying pool, showing Kael's frantic Beta, Roric, revealed he was less than a day's travel from our hidden spot filled with Wolfsbane and dark magic.

"The test is here, Elara," Mora said, her voice dry as dead leaves. "He will hunt you by scent, instinct, and fear. His Alpha ordered him to find you. Prove your training is worth more than his loyalty."

I felt the familiar ache in my rejection hand pulse rapidly-a signal of a wolf connected to my fate. Roric was close.

Mora handed me a small, dried leaf, silvery-white and brittle. "Crush this and inhale deeply. It will lock your core magic down, hiding the dark energy of Wolfsbane you now have. Focus on the illusion of distance."

I followed her instructions. The bitter dust burned my nostrils. I pushed my power outward, not violently but as a subtle distortion of reality. I needed to convince Roric's keen senses that I wasn't there and that the scent he tracked was only a memory carried by the wind.

Mora retreated into the depths of the roots, a disappearing act I still hadn't mastered. I stood alone at the edge of the clearing, waiting for the hunter.

It took less than an hour.

A massive gray-and-black Beta wolf appeared silently through the trees. It was Roric. His hackles were raised, and his nostrils twitched as he sampled the air. He was a skilled hunter-relentless and focused. He halted twenty feet from me, scanning the underbrush for any trace of a frightened she-wolf.

I wasn't scared. I simply wasn't there.

I held my breath, channeling the stillness Mora had taught me. I pictured myself miles away, my scent fading, a ghost on the wind. Roric took a careful step closer, his focus intense. His eyes passed over the moss-covered log where I was hidden. He caught my old scent-the fear and adrenaline from my early days of exile-but the glamour was functioning, twisting his perception of reality.

He lowered his head and inhaled deeply. The scent of the disturbed Wolfsbane should have hit his senses hard. But Roric only recoiled slightly, mistaking the mild irritation for an unfamiliar mountain herb.

He let out a frustrated growl. "She's cold. Too far."

He turned back the way he came, his massive shoulders drooping in defeat.

Not yet, I mentally urged him. You can't leave so easily.

However, my victory felt empty. Roric was loyal and strong, and weariness showed on his face, burdened by a command he hated. He was a good wolf, forced to hunt his Alpha's mate. I could have let him go, but that would put Kael at ease. Kael needed to worry, be distracted, and believe that Elara was still a threat.

As Roric paused at the tree line, ready to change back to his human form and report failure, I made my move.

I concentrated the Wolfsbane energy into a single, sharp bolt. I didn't aim for Roric. Instead, I targeted a massive ancient pine tree twenty yards behind him-a tree he had just marked as safe.

Snap.

The violet energy struck the pine with a silent flash. It didn't destroy the tree, but it made the sap boil and turned the needles a vibrant, toxic black. The scent that filled the air wasn't pine or herb-it was the unmistakable essence of a magical attack mixed with Wolfsbane.

Roric spun around, shifting back to human instantly, his clothes tearing as he drew a heavy hunting knife. He saw the scorched tree and sensed the magic in the air.

His wide, human eyes searched the forest desperately. He hadn't seen me, but he had witnessed the proof of my power. He realized that Elara didn't just run away; she stayed behind to learn how to strike from the shadows.

He was terrified-not of me, but of the untraceable power I held.

"Alpha Kael was right," he whispered, a sound filled with defeat. "She is uncontrollable."

He didn't search for me again. He turned and ran toward the border, a broken tracker whose worst fear had just been confirmed by an unseen enemy.

I finally exhaled, my legs giving out. The thrill of successfully using the glamour was exhilarating, but the emotional toll of frightening Roric was heavy. My revenge was effective, but this dark path was consuming me faster than I anticipated.

Mora reappeared, stepping from the roots as if they had simply released her.

"Well done. You chose power over pity," she observed, her gaze piercing. "He returns with fear, not failure. Kael will learn of a 'Wolfsbane Rogue' with untraceable magic. He will stop searching for a victim and start preparing for an enemy."

I looked at the poisoned tree and then my hands. They felt foreign. No longer did they yearn to heal; they craved control. The pain in my chest had become a sharp, unyielding resolve. The crisis Kael faced-the spreading sickness-was the perfect cover. I was the only one who knew the root cause and how to counter it.

"It is time, Mora," I said, rising to my feet. "The Alpha needs a Healer. I will give him one."

Mora's eyes narrowed, seeing the cold focus in my gaze. "Your disguise is ready. Your scent is locked. Your purpose is set. But your return cannot be rushed. You must appear to be someone else entirely-a neutral party. The Pack must hire you."

"Then I will go to the largest trading settlement, just across the border," I decided, picturing the route in my mind. "I will become a traveling, unaffiliated master healer. I will build a reputation they cannot ignore, a price they must pay, and a skill they desperately need."

My exile had toughened me. Now, the mask was ready. I took a deep, steadying breath. This was no longer about survival. It was about conquest. I would not sneak back into the Lunar Pack. I would be invited. And the cost of my services would be the Alpha's complete submission.