Chapter 49

Evelyn

The scent of blood still clung to everything. I’d scrubbed myself raw, and still, the smell lingered in my nose. I wondered if I would ever feel clean of it again.

It didn’t matter how many days had passed since Jesse and his rogues had torn through our lines. No amount of bathing, salves, or layered fragrances would cleanse the scent from my skin, and it continued to layer the air days after the bodies had been removed.

The fighting had ended long ago, but the work in the medical tents hadn’t stopped. If anything, it had grown more extensive and exhausting. Just as I had never seen a battle quite at the scale of this latest rogue attack, I also couldn’t remember ever seeing so many wounded come to me wailing and bleeding.

The adrenaline had faded from these soldiers, leaving them weak and utterly at my mercy. Now there was just pain with a sense of permanence. And they all came to me and the rest of the medical team because we were supposed to be the ones who solved these issues.

And I tried my best. I really did, no matter the grueling hours or aching fatigue.

Tending to the injured was especially difficult because not only was I expected to tend to the visible wounds of these soldiers, but I was also often one of the few people who would pause to listen to them express their traumas. I held vigil over their fears and pains.

Stitch. Bandage. Reassure. Repeat. The cycle was endless for days and days.

Admittedly, most patients blurred into the next. There were just so many of them that it was hard to keep track. I worked from sunrise to sunset, ignoring my own healing wounds to prioritize theirs.

The worst were the ones who didn’t scream or moan. They just looked at you with eyes already half-gone, silently asking if I could fix what wasn’t just skin and bone. They were resigned to their fates, made fragile by this surprise attack. And there was only so much I could do for them.

I worked until my fingers cramped and my bruised ribs made it hard to breathe. And then I pushed through, working even when my knees ached and my lower back screamed in protest. Even still, it felt like nothing was enough.

“This didn’t have to happen,” I muttered one evening, pressing a bandage to a soldier’s thigh. The wound was clean, at least. I had disinfected it earlier, and fortunately, it looked like it would heal without infection. It was one of the few wounds that would.

Chris was checking on a soldier’s pulse at the next cot over. The soldier was maintaining a faint and concerning heartbeat that required frequent monitoring.

Chris glanced at me, raising a brow. “What do you mean?”

I pulled the bandage tighter, maybe even a little too tight. The soldier hissed, and I winced, embarrassed that my mind had begun to stray.

“Sorry,” I murmured, then exhaled before turning to Chris. “I mean all of this bloodshed and chaos… It was all avoidable. This whole bloody battle. If Logan and Jesse had just talked instead of leading their followers to the slaughter and posturing like mortal enemies—”

“They’re not exactly brothers,” Chris pointed out. “Their lives have been violent to both of them in different ways. This is all they know.”

“But why is it that anyone besides them needs to get involved? Why are these soldiers bleeding for Jesse’s revenge? It seems so ridiculous that—”

Chris froze.

His gaze flicked just past my shoulder, his eyes widening.

I felt it before I turned. Only a handful of people could have elicited such a reaction from Chris. And I had a feeling that it wasn’t Logan this time.

I slowly straightened and turned around, anticipating him before I saw that familiar face.

The Alpha King stood in the doorway, watching.

He was tall and imposing as ever. Even after so many years, he was still regal in that effortless, unsettling way. But I had had an entire childhood of steeling myself against his air of authority. I was well acquainted with his power, and by now, I wasn’t afraid of my father’s cold expression.

His eyes were sharper than anyone gave him credit for, and in that moment, they were trained on me. To anyone else, it might have been a look to wither a person’s composure. But I only stared back, hiding my smirk.

We were the only two people who knew the truth of who I was.

“Diplomacy over violence,” he said, repeating my thoughts back to me. “A rare stance, especially these days.”

Instead, I offered him a small, sly smile. “I like rare things,” I said.

He studied me for a beat too long. I noticed he was appraising me with that subtle tilt of his head that I had inherited. He often did this when he was challenging my ideas, letting the proposition linger until I clarified. But I only raised my chin, prompting him to make the next comment.

“I’ve heard a lot about what you have done in the medical wing over the past few weeks,” he said at last. “You’ve gained the reputation of the nurse with the sharp tongue and sharper instincts.”

“Guilty,” I said with a casual shrug.

My father assessed me for a long moment. I waited patiently, feeling Chris’s distress behind me. It was humorous to witness the way everyone so quickly bowed before my father. This was the same man who had given me my first healing textbook and who had argued over how much wine I was allowed to drink during my rebellious teen years. I wasn’t scared of him, if I ever had been.

“As Alpha Logan’s wife, your opinion carries weight, even if you try to wield it quietly,” he said. “You’ve made an impression, Evelyn. On the soldiers. On the injured. On the camp.”

Chris looked like he might faint. I only smirked more.

The Alpha King continued. “I want you to attend the council meeting tomorrow. Speak your mind to the rest of the leadership. Not as a healer. As someone who sees things others miss.”

For the first time during this conversation, I was shocked. I hadn’t expected him to so boldly agree with me. It was a surprise to hear him prioritize my opinions so openly, especially when no one else knew of our connection. Surely, people would be confused by it.

But what would confuse them more would be if I refused his invitation or pushed back. He didn’t mind bringing me into his council, and inwardly, I was pleased that he was agreeing with my line of thinking.

Finally, I nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

He gave the slightest bow of acknowledgment. “Prepare your thoughts. I’ll see you there.”

Then he was gone as quickly as he had come. Perhaps he was visiting a specific wounded soldier, or maybe he was merely assessing the damage done to his soldiers broadly. Either way, he left me feeling smug and satisfied.

Chris turned to me, mouth agape. “What the hell just happened?”

I leaned against the table, my face calm. “I think,” I said slowly, “The Alpha King sees something in my suggestion.”

Chris whistled low. “You’re not going to actually go, are you?”

“Of course I am,” I said. “And I’m going to be ready.”

But even as I said it, I felt the twist of nerves settle into my stomach. My father might believe in my idea, but convincing the other council members would be a whole different beast. Especially since they didn’t think I held the authority to express such thoughts.

Tomorrow, I wasn’t just stepping into a council room.

I was stepping into a room full of people who didn’t know who I really was, but who would be forced to listen to my opinions and to truly weigh up their merit. And even if they didn’t know the truth, I would be heard.