Eila's steps echoed softly against the marble floors as she walked deeper into the seldom-used infirmary, her mind still clouded by the storm of events from the past few hours. The battle's aftermath weighed heavily on her shoulders, the scent of blood still clinging to her skin despite her brief attempt at cleaning up. But as she crossed the threshold, the tired fog in her mind momentarily lifted.
The infirmary was stunning. Arched ceilings adorned with intricate carvings of the Moon Goddess, silver-veined columns that shimmered under the flickering wall sconces, and soft white beds lined neatly in rows — it looked more like a sacred temple than a place of injury. Eila stopped in her tracks, mouth slightly parted in awe.
Leonard appeared beside her, his presence a quiet warmth, eyes tracing hers with affection. "It was modeled after Moonshine University's hospital wing," he said, voice low and worn, but proud. "I studied there briefly before taking over my duties. Thought we could use some of that serenity here."
Eila blinked. "It's beautiful," she whispered, trying to imagine what the original must look like. The thought stirred a longing in her—one she couldn't quite name.
Gradually, the infirmary began to fill. Warriors with torn limbs and deep wounds, children shivering from shock, and elders holding onto their breath with grit alone. Eila moved from bed to bed, hands glowing faintly, her magic dim but still present. She healed what she could—resetting bones, knitting flesh—but her power waned with each touch. By the time she finished healing a young warrior whose spine had nearly snapped, she could barely lift her fingers.
Then, the atmosphere shifted.
A hush fell over the room as a tall woman stepped through the infirmary doors. She was draped in a long, black netted gown that glistened like woven shadows, her skin porcelain with a warm golden undertone. Her black hair was piled into a regal twist atop her head, and her eyes—jet-black pools of calm and depth—swept the room like a queen surveying her court. There was power in her steps, the kind that made even the most hardened warriors still and alert.
Eila stood rooted, heart pounding.
The woman's gaze finally met hers and held it.
A slow, knowing smile curved the stranger's lips as she approached. "You must be Eila," she said in a melodic tone, voice laced with ageless grace. "I'm Nina. The witch."
Eila's jaw nearly dropped. A witch. Here? In the heart of a werewolf pack?
Before she could respond, Leonard appeared at her side, his eyes lighting up with unexpected joy. "Nina," he greeted warmly, and to Eila's dismay, he even took her hand and kissed her knuckles in greeting.
Zois and Lukas weren't any better. The moment Nina entered, they practically floated toward her, buzzing with boyish curiosity. Lukas leaned in close, smirking. "You smell like burnt cedar and jasmine. Is that… witchcraft?"
Nina laughed, a sound like bells in the twilight. "Something like that."
Eila stood frozen, her insides tangled with a foreign tightness. Was that jealousy? She mentally slapped herself. Pull yourself together, Eila. This woman just walked in. She's probably here to help. Besides… Leonard isn't yours to keep. The thought stung harder than she expected.
Nina's attention returned to her. "Tell me, Eila," she said, her tone suddenly more serious, "Are you familiar with witchcraft?"
Silence fell.
Eila blinked, caught off guard. "I—no. Not really."
Around them, even Leonard and the twins seemed surprised by the question. Nina didn't flinch, though. She studied Eila as if she already knew the answer, and was merely asking for confirmation. Her gaze dipped, slowly assessing her aura.
"Well," Nina said softly, as if she were speaking only to Eila now, "that might be something we need to change… soon."
Eila's stomach tightened. There was something unreadable in Nina's eyes. Something old and knowing—like she had seen this moment before it even happened.
Just then, the stillness broke as a healer called Leonard over to check on Luna. Eila took a shaky breath, grateful for the distraction. But even as she tried to focus on the injured, she could still feel Nina's gaze lingering on her… like a whisper from the dark.
Something was changing.
And Eila had a feeling this was only the beginning.