Nathan's POV
The door creaked open slowly, and I already knew who it was. His scent filled the room before I even saw him.
Father.
And beside him, the pack's healer followed quietly, head slightly bowed as if unsure of his place.
I didn't look up. I didn't speak. I just picked up the bloodied towel Hailee had left on the nightstand and resumed wiping the dried blood off my side like they weren't even there.
Father didn't say a word at first. He just gave the healer a silent nod.
The man approached me cautiously, kneeling at my side.
I clenched my jaw, wanting to shove him away. But I'd already lost too much blood. I was in no shape to argue again, not today.
So I stayed still and let him work.
His hands moved efficiently—soft green light glowing faintly from his fingers as he mended the deeper wounds. The pain eased almost immediately, but it didn't change the anger still burning in my chest.
