Chapter 20

Gideon's POV

I knocked once before entering. The scent of blood hit me first—not as fresh as it had once been, but still sharp enough to turn my instincts alert. Raven was hunched over on the small sofa, clutching the hem of her shirt, clearly caught off guard. As soon as she saw me, she screamed, trying to cover herself with her ruined shirt like I was an intruder instead of someone who just wanted to help.

“Easy,” I said, holding up the small jar in my hand. “It’s medicine.”Her eyes narrowed. “You could’ve sent someone. You said you were going to send someone.”

“And have them botch the job?” I stepped closer, slowly, making sure my presence didn’t come across as a threat. I could feel the ripple of tension in the room, hear the subtle shift in her breathing. “I figured you wouldn’t want anyone else seeing that wound anyway.”

“I can manage,” she said flatly. “I’ll call a maid.”

I raised an eyebrow. “To do what? Stand three feet away while you wince and strain trying to reach your back?”

She didn’t answer. Just stared at me like I was trying to pry open something I had no right to touch.

“I’ll be quick,” I said. “Just let me apply it and wrap it. No one else has to know.”

There was a long silence. I could hear the faint ticking of the clock on the wall, the hum of wind brushing against the windowpane. Finally, she gave a reluctant nod, turning so her back faced me. She pulled her shirt away again, slower this time, revealing the gash that ran along her back. It was angry and red, partially scabbed but still fresh enough to need attention.

I dipped two fingers into the ointment and began applying it gently. Her skin was hot under my touch, tense but not trembling. To my surprise, her wolf responded—not with resistance, but calm. The aggressive aura that usually clung to her like armor eased, if only slightly.

“You’ve got good healing,” I murmured. “Shouldn’t scar if you take care of it.” She didn’t answer.

Still, I noticed the way her breathing slowed. The tension in her shoulders lessened, just a little. Her wolf trusted me… even if she didn’t.

I couldn’t help it. Something about being this close to her stirred something I couldn’t place. A memory buried deep, clawing its way up like it was trying to be remembered. My hand paused for a fraction too long, and without thinking, I reached up—toward her mask.

The moment my fingers neared it, she jerked away, pulling her away from me and spinning like I’d tried to strike her.

“Don’t,” she snapped. Her eyes were wild, irises glowing with fury.

“I wasn’t going to take it off,” I said quickly, backing a step away. “I just… I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

She stood, gathering her coat in stiff, deliberate motions. “I don’t need your apologies. Or your pity.”

My brow furrowed. “Pity? I wasn’t—”

“You were,” she cut in, voice sharp. “From the moment we met. That's why you treat me better than your own future Luna, right?”

Her tone was ice, colder than it had been even when I first brought her into the pack.

She looked at me like I was a stranger, maybe even something worse.

I stepped forward. “Why do you hate me so much?” She paused, her hand on the doorframe, spine rigid. “I don’t hate you,” she said. “I just don’t trust you.”

“Because of what you said earlier? About the rogues?”

She turned halfway, her mask catching the light. “They weren’t like the ones we used to fight in Ivan’s territory. These moved with purpose. Coordination. Almost like… they were sent.”

“Sent?” I repeated, voice low. “You think they were ordered?”

“I don’t know. But it wasn’t random. Someone’s orchestrating something, and I don’t know who I can trust here.”

I folded my arms, heart thudding. “Then let me find out. I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she reached for the door again—but stopped when I added, “I was on my way to check on Leo.”

That made her hesitate.

I watched her carefully. “You can come with me, if you want.”

Raven didn’t say yes, but she didn’t say no either. I handed her the extra shirt that I had brought and she slipped it on without a word. We walked in silence down the corridor, the only sounds the soft click of our boots and the distant murmur of the household waking for the day.

Leo’s room was quiet, filled with the faint scent of mint and honey from the medicines. He lay curled under the covers, his breathing soft and even. The in-house doctor, a lean, aging man named Halren, greeted me with a bow and a quiet nod.

“He’s asleep,” Halren said. “Took his medication an hour ago.”

“Any changes?” I asked, glancing back at Raven, who stood near the doorway, arms crossed.

The doctor hesitated, his eyes flicking to her, then back to me. “Well?” I pressed.

Halren cleared his throat. “He’s stable. But… developmentally, he’s a bit behind.” My chest tightened. “Why?”

Halren looked uncomfortable. “Growing up without his birth mother… it’s taken a toll.

Emotionally. Spiritually, even. Wolves that young feel those bonds deeply.” A sharp, dry sound cut through the room. Raven scoffed.

“What kind of person lets their child be separated from their mother right after birth?” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

The words hit me like a slap. I flinched, just barely—but it was enough.

I turned to her, voice quieter now. “That matter has nothing to do with you.”

She met my eyes, and for a second, something flickered in her gaze—an emotion that I couldn't name. But then it was gone, replaced by that same wall she always kept up.

“I’m just saying what anyone would think.”

“No,” I said. “You’re saying what you think. Without knowing the full story.” She didn’t respond. Just looked away.

I walked to Leo’s bedside, brushing a hand gently through his hair. He stirred but didn’t wake. My heart ached with a dull, familiar pain—one I thought I’d buried years ago.

His mother… my mate… she hadn’t chosen to leave him. Fate had stolen her from us before she ever had the chance to really hold him.

“I lost someone,” I said softly, not turning around. “She didn’t choose to be apart from him. She died shortly after giving birth to him. So don’t stand there and judge when you don’t know what it cost me just to keep him alive.” I didn't mention that I was the one who sent her away. That it was all my fault that this had happened to my son.

Behind me, silence stretched.

After a while, Raven said, voice low and unreadable, “I didn’t know.” “I didn’t expect you to.”

Another pause.

Then, quieter, almost reluctant, “Still. He’s lucky to have you.”

I turned around, surprised to find her watching me. Her expression was unreadable beneath that damned mask, but her posture had softened. Just a little.

“Maybe,” I said. “But I think he’d be luckier as long as you're here to guard him.” Her brow furrowed.

“If Ivan will let me stay,” she said, and disappeared down the hall before I could say anything else.

I looked down at Leo again, sleeping so peacefully— thank the goddess for Raven. Even if she did hate me for whatever reason.