I Survived When My Mate Burned Me Alive

The bullet had torn through my shoulder, leaving a jagged wound that refused to stop bleeding. I dragged myself back to the Omega quarters, each movement sending fresh waves of agony through my body. The damp, narrow hallway reeked of mildew and despair—fitting for those of us who lived here.

I locked the door behind me and finally allowed myself to collapse onto the thin mattress I shared with Rosemary when she was too weak to stay in the infirmary. My hands trembled as I peeled back the blood-soaked fabric of my uniform.

"Let me see," Luna whispered inside me. "Our healing will be faster than they know."

She was right. My White Wolf bloodline—the secret I'd guarded so carefully—gave me abilities no ordinary wolf possessed. Including accelerated healing.

I bit down on a rag to muffle my cries as I dug the bullet from my flesh. Tears streamed down my face, but I couldn't stop. If Dr. Winters discovered how quickly I healed, questions would follow. Questions I couldn't answer without revealing who I truly was.

"Stay strong," Luna encouraged as I packed the wound with herbs I'd stolen from the infirmary supply cabinet. "We must survive for Rosemary."

* * *

The infirmary was quiet when I slipped in the next morning. Dr. Winters was making her rounds, her back to me as she checked Rosemary's vitals. I crept closer, my heart sinking at the sight of my sister's pale face.

"Her breathing is more labored," Dr. Winters murmured, though she thought she was alone. "The medication isn't working anymore."

I stepped forward, forcing my voice to remain steady. "How bad is it?"

The doctor turned, her eyes widening slightly at my appearance. "Harper. You should be resting. That shoulder—"

"Will heal," I finished for her. "Tell me about Rosemary."

Dr. Winters hesitated, then sighed. "I've done everything I can with the resources we have. But her condition is deteriorating rapidly."

"Then get different resources," I pleaded.

"There's one option." She looked uncomfortable. "Moonshade Root. It grows only in the Rogue territories. A smuggler named Thorne sometimes brings it across the border."

Hope flared in my chest. "Where can I find this Thorne?"

"He's dangerous, Harper. And the Alpha would never allow—"

"I'll get the money," I interrupted. "Just tell me how much."

* * *

I found Kameron in his study, Melissa perched on his lap like a well-manicured ornament. They both looked up when I entered, his expression hardening instantly.

"What is it, Omega?" he growled. "I'm busy."

I kept my eyes lowered, the way he expected. "Dr. Winters says Rosemary needs Moonshade Root. It's her only chance."

"And?" Melissa's voice dripped with disdain.

"And I need money to pay the smuggler." I swallowed my pride. "Please, Alpha."

Kameron's fingers drummed against his desk. Melissa whispered something in his ear, her lips curving into a smile.

"I'll give you the money," he said finally. "But first, you'll earn it."

My heart leapt with desperate hope. "Anything, Alpha."

"Scrub the entire pack house. Every floor, every hallway, every stair." His eyes gleamed with cruel satisfaction. "On your hands and knees. Until I deem it clean enough."

Melissa's laugh tinkled like breaking glass. "And if you miss a spot..."

"Start over," Kameron finished.

I nodded, though Luna raged inside me. "I accept your terms."

"Good." He waved me away. "Begin immediately."

* * *

The water was scalding, the brush coarse against my skin. I started with the main entrance hall, scrubbing each marble tile until my knees bled and my hands blistered.

Hours blended into days. I worked without rest, without food except for the scraps Melissa ordered the kitchen to give me. My shoulders screamed in protest, my injured one weeping fresh blood into the soapy water.

Pack members walked past, some deliberately tracking mud across sections I'd just cleaned. Others kicked over my buckets, forcing me to start again. Through it all, Kameron watched from the balcony above, Melissa nestled against him.

"Look how hard the little Omega works," she cooed on the second day. "Like a common house pet."

I kept scrubbing, each stroke wearing away another piece of my soul. But for Rosemary, I would endure anything.

By the third day, my hands were raw masses of torn skin and exposed flesh. Blood mixed with soap and water in pink swirls across the floor. Still, I scrubbed.

"Kameron," Melissa pouted from her position on his lap, "my head hurts again."

He immediately stood, leaving his vantage point. "Let's get you some rest, my love."

Neither glanced back at me as they retreated to their private quarters.

I lowered my head to the cold marble, tears mixing with blood and soap. Three days and nights without sleep. Three days of torture for a sister who might not survive another week.

"Please," I whispered to no one. "Just let her live."

Luna howled inside me, a sound of pure anguish that echoed through our bond.

*Hold on*, I told her. *We're almost there.*

But as I collapsed across the wet floor, my vision blurring from exhaustion and pain, I wondered if "almost" would be enough.