Black smoke curled from the deep claw wound slashed across his right abdomen. His body burned with fever, blood soaking his clothes. Cassian’s face was pale as death, his eyes shut tight as groans escaped his lips.

He had been lying helpless on the wet ground, but Elle managed to help him lean against the trunk of a nearby oak.

“Please hold on a little longer, Duke. I can take care of this.”

Elle tied Damascus’s reins to a thin tree, then crouched at Cassian’s side, rifling through the basket she carried.

It was filled with wild herbs she had gathered from the corners of the forest.

In such a dire, dim situation, Elle had no choice but to act quickly, deciding the best way to treat Cassian without wasting precious time.

“Duke, you must chew this. It will taste unbearably bitter, but these herbs can heal your wound.”

She wrapped valerian root in yarrow leaves, making a crude herbal poultice—an emergency remedy. If she had a mortar stone or a river nearby, she could have prepared it differently. But here, under such constraint, Elle had to force Cassian to swallow the makeshift medicine.

“Duke, please… open your eyes and chew this.”

She tried to rouse him, touching his arm, even daring to pat his face softly.

“Duke Cassian, can you hear me?”

He could, faintly. But the cursed wolf’s claw that had struck him spread its venom like fire through his veins, leaving him paralyzed, his joints numb, his blood burning as though it might explode.

Elle knew the cause at once—the black smoke rising from the wound, the nauseating stench radiating from it. She had been born with the gift of a healer, passed down from her late mother.

“Duke, please…” Her voice wavered as despair threatened to overtake her, seeing him groan without opening his eyes.

Slowly—through sheer force of will—Cassian forced his heavy eyelids apart. Through his blurred vision he saw a girl holding an oil lantern, her expression taut with desperate concern as she held something out to him.

“Chew it. If you don’t, the curse will rot your heart before dawn. You must swallow it now.”

There was no time for doubt. With no strength to question her, Cassian parted his lips, letting Elle press the bitter poultice into his mouth.

The taste invaded his tongue and throat like poison. Unfortunately, there was no other way to counter it.

“Forgive me, Duke. Forgive my insolence. I must remove your cloak and tunic. If you remember this when you wake, I will accept whatever punishment you decide.”

She lit mugwort and juniper with the lantern’s flame, setting them around him to repel the cursed spirits.

Her hands trembled as she stripped his blood-soaked garments away. Now the Duke sat bare-chested before a stranger.

Elle crushed more yarrow leaves, pressing them against the wound. The heat of his body seared her skin like an electric current.

The pain transferred to her as well; her throat constricted as if a great lump had risen within it.

Sweat poured down Cassian’s pale body. But the herbs and Elle’s desperate measures worked—the curse weakened, its grip fading.

When his breathing finally steadied, Elle withdrew her hand. Her shoulders sagged, relief replacing the terror gnawing at her.

“Thank the gods… you endured it well.”

The thick oak leaves shielded the smoldering herbs from the rain, letting the treatment take full effect.

Elle unwound her soaked headscarf, gathering her damp hair before twisting it back up.

Cassian’s awareness returned with the sound of a horse neighing and torchlight approaching from afar.

“They’re probably searching for you. I must leave before they find me. By tomorrow morning, your body should be fully recovered.”

She gathered her things in haste. She could not let anyone see her here at night, not with the Duke in such a state.

But just as she rose to leave, a strong hand clamped around her ankle.

She swung the lantern down—and found Cassian staring up at her, eyes wide open, still leaning against the oak.

Elle’s heart pounded wildly. Fear slithered through her spine once more, though she had just saved his life.

It was the first time she had ever been this close to Cassian—close enough to touch him.

“Duke—”

“Who are you? A servant?”

Elle shook her head, glancing aside. “No… not like that.”

“Then tell me your name.” His grip loosened from her leg.

“I’m only an omega living within your lands. Forgive me for my boldness.”

Cassian stirred, but Elle kept the lantern lowered, avoiding his gaze. Her nerves were fraying—she could not bear to meet his eyes.

Yet Cassian seized the lantern from her hand and lifted it, casting its glow directly between them.

Elle’s face flushed crimson. She lowered her eyes, silent, embarrassed.

Didn’t the Duke realize he was bare-chested before her?

“Speak your name, and I will be grateful enough to forget that you stripped my clothes away.”

Still staring at the ground, Elle froze. She had never prepared herself for this moment—for Cassian awake, demanding answers.

Her breath caught as his large hand tilted her chin upward, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“Duke—”

He did not move, though her fear was clear in her eyes. The sound of approaching hooves and the glow of countless torches drew nearer, but Cassian held her fast.

He looked into her eyes, their greenish-blue depths shimmering like the sky beneath an aurora. Cassian was transfixed, long enough for Elle to summon the courage to brush his hand away.

“I’m sorry, Duke. I must leave now.”

He caught her wrist, unrelenting. “Just tell me your name. That is all I ask.”

“Elle.” Her heart thundered as she glanced between him and the nearing lights. “Elle Noxirell.”

“Ah…” His grip released. “Then I shall thank you properly, Elle.”

Elle did not answer. She only hurried away, light-footed like a squirrel, vanishing into the night. The lantern’s glow dwindled into a speck of red before disappearing entirely.

Cassian remained where she left him, still bare-chested, when his guards finally found him—missing since the second day of the festival’s riding trials.

They froze, startled, at the sight of their noble Duke sitting motionless, half-dressed, staring into the darkness.

None of them knew what Cassian truly felt—that even as Elle fled, her sweet scent lingered, mingled with the memory of her touch.

He raked a hand through his wet hair, exhaling sharply. “I survived death… only to lose my sanity.”

The guards exchanged baffled glances, unable to grasp what their Alpha meant.

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