Tabitha's POV
The atmosphere in the room grew sour as I finished my words.
Derek's face darkened under my glower.
Kamp, who seemed to pick up on the heavy vibes coming off Derek, blurted out, "Alpha Derek, Alvin just mind-linked me. There's pack stuff that needs your immediate attention."
Derek shifted his gaze from me, ready to leave.
Before he walked out the door, he suddenly threw over his shoulder, "Tabitha, talking to you's a waste of my time."
I cursed inwardly, 'Damn it! I gotta teach him a lesson for insulting me!'
Anger got the better of me, and before I knew it, my claws were out, swiping straight at him.
Caught off guard in the heat of the moment, he failed to dodge in time. I ripped his shirt open, revealing his skin underneath.
He glanced down and then locked eyes with me, rage written all over him.
"How dare you!" he snarled.
I remained silent, just keeping him in a cold, hard stare, ready to strike again if needed.
Derek gave me a sullen glare.
"I'm gonna let you off today. Mess with me again, and there'll be consequences," he snapped before storming out of the ward.
As he slammed the door shut, the ward felt less suffocating.
I slowly retracted my claws, rage simmering down, replaced by the feeling of helplessness.
I sat back on the bed, collecting myself.
Once the angry blaze cooled off, the pain from my wound set in.
It had been dull before, but now, it grew constant and sharp, almost unbearable.
Kinda like a reminder of the broken and irreparable relationship between me and Derek.
I gently stroked the bandage around my abdomen. As I lifted my hand, I saw some blood on my fingertips.
My wound started bleeding again.
But I wouldn't go to Kamp again. His diagnosis just now was inaccurate, to begin with.
Besides, they were loyal to Derek, not me.
I slowly got up and walked out of the ward.
With no one in the corridor, it was deadly quiet. Guessed the guards Derek mentioned had been ordered to leave.
I walked to the nurse's station and got my stuff back.
The second I went back to the ward, I took out my phone from my bag. When I switched it on, I saw texts from members of the Silver Moon Pack and some from Gloria.
Just when I was about to text back, I recalled what Crystal had told me. So I changed my mind and called Orson instead.
"Orson? It's me, Tabitha," I said, my voice shaking imperceptibly.
"Tabitha? What's wrong? You don't sound right." Worry bled through Orson's tone.
"Are you on shift today? I'm in the hospital. Can you come check on my wound? I feel something off." I tried my best to stay composed.
"Sure, I'll be right there," he agreed without hesitation.
After hanging up the phone, I sat quietly on the bed, waiting.
Soon, the door swung open. Orson strode in, a concerned look on his face.
"You OK?" His gaze fell on the bandage around my abdomen.
"Yeah. It just stings a bit, "I whispered.
He nodded, opened the medical kit, and put on sterilized gloves, ready to examine my wound.
"Tabitha, it might hurt a bit. Bear with me, OK?" he comforted me in a gentle tone.
I gave him a smile and lay flat on the bed.
As he gently unwrapped the bandage, I felt a slight chill in the wound.
He carefully observed every detail of the wound and then touched its edge gently, asking, "Does this hurt?"
"Bearable," I answered, though the pain had my every muscle tensed.
Orson went on after a nod. While examining, he told me, "It's healing slower than before, and..." He trailed off, like he was hunting for the right words. "I see new marks around it. It's quite unusual."
My stomach tightened. "What do you mean?"
He straightened up, putting on a serious look on his face. "Tabitha, someone smeared wolfsbane on your wound."
Shocked, I asked with widened eyes, "But why? Just to keep my wound from healing?"
"I'm afraid so," he replied. "This wolfsbane is an herbal mixture. It's designed to stop werewolves' wounds from healing."
Slack-jawed, I was lost for words.
Now it added up. No wonder Crystal felt weak, and my wound suddenly got worse after it had begun to heal.
After calming myself down, I analyzed, "It's gotta be someone who works here. I've blacked out twice in my ward. Guess that's when the person did it."
"Someone who works here?" Orson wore a grave look on his face.
I thought, 'Whoever did this has some balls. After all, Derek was with me back then.
'Could it be Daphne?
'But Derek and I have already completed the rejection ceremony. I'm no longer a threat to her. Why would she continue to find faults with me? That just doesn't make any sense.
'She's the only one with a motive, but... I don't know. I just feel that something doesn't add up.
'If it wasn't her, then the culprit is way too cunning. Geez, it's so freaking scary!'
"Orson, can you keep an eye out, off-record?" Orson was the only one I could turn to now.
He nodded. "Leave it to me. I'll get you some clues."