Chapter 4 The death corridor

Evangeline,

" It's her. The gifted healer everyone is talking about recently. I heard she finished medical school in only two years." I heard whispers drifting from my left as I sat in the car.

I didn't look at them. Most of the time, they openly gossiped about me anyway.

" I heard she always carries a strong scent blocker. Someone said she might have been married or maybe has a boyfriend."

" It's nothing important, right? Everyone has boyfriends." Another voice chimed in.

Quiet yet mocking laughter followed immediately.

" Yeah. 'Everyone' has." The way one of them said everyone clearly implied that everyone could have one except me.

I didn't look behind me, nor did I care enough to react anymore. At some point, the insults stopped feeling sharp and became something duller. Familiar. Like an old scar that no longer bled but still ached whenever touched.

At the age of seventeen, I realized that I had the power to treat any wound without even touching people. At the age of nineteen, my professor confirmed that I was one of the most outstanding neurological students he had ever seen, someone who didn't need to go through endless tests just to prove that I could become a surgeon soon.

Because whatever I touched, healed. On the operating table, any unexpected accident would disappear the moment my hand reached the patient's body.

That was why they were desperately trying to keep me with their team.

At the age of eighteen, the mark appeared on my neck. The tiny bite mark left behind like a cruel reminder of my unwanted life suddenly manifested into a deep crescent-shaped golden mark.

So did the strong scent of ozone and musk. Whenever any male teachers or classmates tried to get close to me, they immediately felt electrified. Even Dad couldn't stand near me for too long. His hair would rise as though lightning was about to strike him directly.

Thanks to the Pack's magician, who barely knew magic but understood enough about marks to suppress the effects temporarily, I could cover both the scent and the strange electrical reaction.

But once I got close to the person who marked me, everything would return instantly.

And hopefully, I would never meet that bastard again.

Once I did, I would become the reason for his death.

" We are entering the barricade. Everyone stay alert. All medical staff, please make sure you are prepared to face any situation, including severely injured patients." One of the professors announced as the car slowly crossed the barricades.

The scene before me was overwhelming.

Soldiers ran across the muddy grounds with loaded weapons hanging from their shoulders while others carried boxes of ammunition through puddles stained with dirt and blood. The sharp scent of antiseptic mixed horribly with sweat, smoke, and iron-rich blood lingering heavily in the air.

Somewhere in the distance, alarms rang sharply. Orders were shouted one after another while helicopters roared overhead, their loud blades slicing through the tense atmosphere.

Non-soldiers moved around with stiff shoulders and tightened jaws. Everyone looked exhausted. Alert. On edge. So this was what they called, the final test in hell. The Death corridor. The hell itself belongs here.

Just then, the car stopped. One of the female professors signaled for us to get out and follow her.

I stepped down first. Unfortunately, my knees gave out beneath me.

Before embarrassment could fully settle in, a hand caught my arm firmly.

" Please be careful. I can't add another injured person to the list."

I looked up, meeting his eyes. A man around six feet tall with tanned skin stood before me, breathtakingly handsome despite the exhaustion written across his face. Sweat clung to his forehead while faint dirt streaked the sleeves of his uniform.

I steadied myself and gave him a small nod.

" Wow. Are you already seducing a soldier?" A snicker came from behind me. The same students from earlier looked at me with open disdain.

A familiar exhaustion settled heavily in my chest.

" Please restrain yourselves from unnecessary comments. This is neither your pack nor your home where you can bully others." His voice turned sharp instantly.

Their faces paled. Without another word, they hurried away after the professor.

" Are you alright?" he asked.

My gaze drifted toward the name stitched onto his uniform. Sergeant Javier.

I nodded. " Yes, Sergeant."

Then my attention shifted toward his arm. It was properly bandaged, but from the sluggish blood flow beneath the skin, it would still take at least a week to heal completely.

He noticed my stare and smiled lightly. " I broke it during a rogue attack. But the doctor said—"

" Move your hand," I interrupted quietly.

" What?"

" Move your hand."

His brows narrowed with confusion, but he slowly flexed his fingers before moving his arm carefully.

A flicker of disbelief crossed his face.

" Thanks for helping me earlier," I said before turning and walking directly toward the medical team.

" Wait... what just happened?" His voice trembled slightly behind me.

I grabbed a sandwich from my backpack and stuffed part of it into my mouth. Healing always drained me brutally fast. My body constantly demanded sugar, protein, anything that could replace the energy disappearing from my bones.

My eyes scanned the area carefully. People with minor injuries. Others barely able to stand. Nobody escaped my attention.

" What the fuck? Did your wound just heal itself?" A soldier gasped nearby.

" Mine too!" another exclaimed loudly.

I grabbed another sandwich before my attention suddenly snapped toward one of the distant tents.

The smell hit me immediately.

It smelled like flesh left too long beneath the sun, heavy and foul enough to make my stomach twist violently.

My nose scrunched instinctively.

Just as I tried to focus harder, someone suddenly grabbed my wrist and yanked the sandwich away from my hand.

" This is no place for you to eat like a pig." A cold, overbearing voice cut through the noise around me.

I looked at the half-eaten sandwich before lifting my eyes toward the woman standing in front of me.