Rejected Mate's Madness

The scalding wolfsbane tea dripped from my burned arms, each drop hitting the medical bay floor like a countdown to war. Around us, the junior healers stood frozen, their eyes wide with shock at Jasmine's violent outburst. Thomas groaned on the examination table, his infected wound still bleeding, still needing the treatment that had been so dramatically interrupted.

But I wasn't the same woman who had arrived at Silvermoon Pack yesterday, willing to play politics for the sake of peace.

I straightened slowly, my gaze never leaving Jasmine's triumphant face. The medical waste scattered at my feet crunched under my boots as I took a deliberate step forward. "You want to talk about dangerous practices, Jasmine?"

My voice was deadly quiet, but it carried across the silent room like a blade. Jasmine's eyes flickered with the first hint of uncertainty, though her chin remained raised in defiance.

"Let me show you what real danger looks like."

I lunged forward before she could react, my hands fisting in the pristine fabric of her white healer robes. Jasmine's shriek of surprise echoed off the medical bay walls as I spun her around and shoved her toward the large basin of ice-cold water we used for emergency cooling treatments.

"Stop! What are you—" Her words cut off in a gurgling gasp as I forced her head down into the frigid water.

The shock of the cold made her entire body go rigid. I held her there for exactly three seconds—long enough to make my point, not long enough to cause real harm. When I released her, she came up sputtering and gasping, her elaborate braid now a soggy mess plastered to her skull.

"How dare you!" Water streamed down her face, mixing with the tears of rage and humiliation. "You're insane!"

"Am I?" I stepped back, crossing my arms despite the burning pain in my scalded skin. "You just accused me of killing Marcus Thompson with foreign practices. You threw medical waste and scalding tea at me in front of witnesses. But I'm the unstable one?"

Jasmine struggled to her feet, her once-pristine robes now soaked and clinging to her frame. The golden serpent pendant at her throat looked tarnished against the wet fabric. "You attacked me! Everyone saw—"

"I gave you a taste of your own medicine." I gestured toward the medical supplies scattered across the nearby workstation. "Since you're so concerned about proper healing practices, why don't you demonstrate your superior skills? Treat the burns you just gave me."

The challenge hung in the air like a gauntlet thrown down. Around us, the junior healers exchanged glances, suddenly very interested in this impromptu test of their supposed senior healer's abilities.

Jasmine's face went pale beneath the water dripping from her hair. "I... that's not... you need to see a proper healer for those burns."

"I am a proper healer." I moved to the herb cabinet and pulled out several small containers, setting them on the counter between us. "But since you questioned my methods, surely you can identify these basic healing herbs? Any first-year student should know them."

I opened the first container, revealing dried leaves with a distinctive silver-green color. "What's this one used for?"

Jasmine stared at the herbs like they were written in a foreign language. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she managed, "It's... for... healing?"

"Moonleaf," Maya whispered from behind us, her voice barely audible. "For reducing inflammation in wolf-form injuries."

I nodded approvingly at the young trainee before opening the second container. "And this?"

The silence stretched longer this time. Jasmine's hands trembled as she reached toward the container, then pulled back without touching it. "I don't have to prove anything to you," she said finally, her voice shrill with desperation. "My bloodline speaks for itself!"

"Bloodline doesn't treat patients," I said coldly. "Knowledge does. Skill does. And you just proved you have neither."

The medical bay doors burst open with a crash that made everyone jump. Roman stormed in, his face dark with fury, his Beta aura rolling off him in waves that made the junior healers instinctively step back.

"What the hell is going on here?" His voice boomed across the room, but his eyes were already fixed on Jasmine's bedraggled state and my burned arms. "Freya, explain yourself. Now."

Jasmine immediately rushed toward him, water still dripping from her hair. "Roman, thank the Moon Goddess you're here! She attacked me! She's completely unstable—dangerous to the entire pack!"

Roman's expression hardened as he took in the scene—the scattered medical waste, the overturned basin, Thomas still bleeding on the examination table. But instead of asking for the full story, instead of investigating what had actually happened, he turned to me with cold judgment in his eyes.

"Is this how you handle professional disagreements, Freya? With violence?"

The betrayal hit me like a physical blow. "Roman, she threw scalding wolfsbane tea at my face. Look at my arms—"

"I see an out-of-control healer who just assaulted a pack member." His Alpha aura pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe. "Guards!"

Two pack warriors appeared in the doorway instantly, their hands already moving toward the restraints on their belts. Roman's voice carried the full weight of his Beta authority as he continued, "Freya Herrera is to be restrained for violent conduct unbecoming of a pack healer. I'll be filing a formal report with the Healer Council about her unstable behavior."

The words felt like ice water in my veins. A report to the Healer Council could destroy everything I'd worked for—my reputation, my career, my International Healer's Excellence Award.

But it was the footsteps behind Roman that truly broke my heart.

Pack elder Garcia emerged from the hallway, his weathered face grave with disappointment. This man had served under my grandfather, had shared meals at our family table, had bounced me on his knee when I was barely old enough to walk.

Now he looked at me like I was a stranger.

"I'm afraid Roman is right," Garcia said, his voice heavy with what sounded like genuine regret. "Freya, your family's royal connections may have protected you from consequences before, but violence against pack members cannot be tolerated."

The words hit harder than any physical blow. "Garcia, you know me. You know my family—"

"I know that power corrupts," he said quietly, his eyes sliding away from mine to focus on his niece. "And I know that Jasmine is family. Blood loyalty runs deeper than old political alliances, child. Perhaps your royal upbringing has made you forget that simple truth."

The guards stepped forward, their restraints gleaming in the medical bay's harsh lighting. Around us, the junior healers watched in stunned silence as their supposed head healer was about to be arrested like a common criminal.

But as the cold metal touched my wrists, I felt something shift inside me—not defeat, but a crystalline clarity that cut through the betrayal and pain. These people wanted to see me as the villain in their story? Fine.

It was time they learned what a real villain could do.