Darkness wrapped around me like a thick fog. I could hear voices, distant and muffled, as if I were underwater. Someone was speaking nearby, their tone sharp with surprise.
"She's the mother of the young prince?" The male voice sounded shocked. "She must be the woman the Alpha King searched for in the Northern Territory all those years."
The words floated through my consciousness, barely registering. I tried to open my eyes, to move, to speak, but my body refused to obey. The medication kept pulling me under, back into the depths where pain couldn't reach me.
Time passed strangely. Minutes felt like hours. Hours might have been seconds.
I sensed someone else in the room. The energy shifted, became colder. Hostile.
"Turn it off." A woman's voice cut through the haze. Emily. My stepmother's voice was unmistakable, even through the fog in my mind. "I don't want to see her face on every news channel."
"Aurora did it deliberately." Another female voice joined in. Codysa. My stepsister sounded smug. "She found a convenient excuse to avoid her engagement to the Keyamo pack's eldest son."
"What gave her the nerve to protect Alpha King Jack?" Emily's voice dripped with disdain. "Does she think she's stronger than him? Does she have more power and influence?"
"She's trying to act brave. The hero." Codysa laughed, sharp and bitter. "I just hope she stays alive long enough to fulfill her obligation to this family."
I wanted to scream at them. Wanted to tell them I didn't protect Jack for show. I didn't take those bullets to be brave. I just reacted. But my lips wouldn't move.
"Like I care whether she lives or dies," Codysa added.
The coldness in her voice cut deeper than any bullet wound. These were my family members. The people who should have been worried about me, praying for my recovery. Instead, they only cared about the marriage alliance that would benefit them.
Their footsteps faded. I was alone again.
More time passed. The machines around me beeped steadily, monitoring my weak heartbeat. I drifted in the space between sleep and waking, aware but not aware.
New voices filtered through the darkness.
"I need to see Aurora Bluey." I recognized that voice. Ethan. My former friend. My former lover. The man who chose Daisy over me.
"Alpha King's orders." A guard's voice was firm. "No visitors except approved pack members."
"Please. I just need to know she's alive."
"Move along, sir."
Footsteps retreated. Even Ethan couldn't get through the guards Jack had posted. Part of me felt relieved. I didn't want Ethan's pity. I didn't want him seeing me broken and vulnerable.
The darkness claimed me again.
When awareness returned, I heard a different conversation. A male voice, younger, speaking with genuine concern.
"That woman who saved the Alpha King is Aurora Bluey." The voice belonged to Richard, the doctor who had treated me before. "She's my friend who almost died once already. Now this happened to her again."
"Holy Moon Goddess, not again." An older woman's voice responded. "How is she now? Did you save her life?"
"We removed the bullets, but she's in a coma. She's been through so much."
"Her name is Aurora?" The woman paused. "I'll remember that."
"There's something strange, Mother." Richard's voice dropped lower. "I feel like I've known Aurora my whole life. I feel obligated to protect her, to keep her safe. Today, when she was dying, I felt like I was dying too. I lost my composure completely. I even left the operating room because I couldn't watch."
My mind struggled to process his words. Why would Richard feel that way? We barely knew each other.
"We have the same blood type," he continued. "I donated my blood to save her. Only when the surgery succeeded could I find peace again."
Silence stretched between them.
"That's remarkable," his mother finally said. Her voice held an odd note, something between shock and understanding.
Footsteps approached. A new presence entered the room.
"Senator Delmark." Richard's voice changed, became more formal. "Father."
The energy in the room shifted dramatically. I sensed power, old power, radiating from the newcomer. The kind of authority that came with centuries of pack leadership.
"Is this the girl?" The senator's voice was deep, commanding. "The one who saved the Alpha King?"
"Yes, Father."
"Interesting." A pause. "Very interesting indeed."
What did he mean by that? What was interesting about me taking bullets for Jack?
"Richard, we need to talk. Privately." The senator's tone left no room for argument.
"Of course."
Their footsteps moved away, but I heard the senator's final words before the door closed.
"There are things about this girl you need to know. Things about her bloodline that change everything."
My heart monitor beeped faster. Even in my comatose state, those words sent alarm through my system.
What did he know about my bloodline? What could possibly change everything?
The darkness pulled me under again, but this time, questions followed me into the depths. Questions about Richard's strange connection to me. Questions about what the senator knew. Questions about why fate kept putting me in situations where I nearly died.
Somewhere in the distance, I heard my father's voice. Ned. He was crying, apologizing to someone. Apologizing to me, though I couldn't hear the specific words.
Too late, I thought. Too late for apologies.
The medication dragged me deeper into unconsciousness, away from the voices, away from the confusion, away from everything except the steady rhythm of machines keeping me alive.
But even in sleep, I couldn't escape the feeling that something monumental was about to be revealed. Something that would change not just my life, but the entire kingdom's understanding of who I really was.
The last thing I sensed before darkness consumed me completely was a familiar scent. Pine and winter air. Jack. The Alpha King stood somewhere nearby, his presence a mixture of fury and something else. Something that felt almost like fear.
"Don't you dare die on me, Aurora," he whispered. "Not before I get answers."
What answers? What did everyone know that I didn't?
The questions spiraled through my mind as consciousness finally, mercifully, slipped away.