Free Web NovelChapter 11: Before Blackridge
Hours later, Rhea jerked awake with a sharp gasp. Air rushed painfully into her lungs as panic clawed through her chest. Her eyes flew open, wild and unfocused at first.
"Calm yourself," an older voice said gently nearby. "You are safe."
Rhea’s breathing remained uneven for several seconds before the room slowly settled into focus around her. Stone walls. A low-burning fire. The earthy scent of herbs drifting through the air.
Relief and unease tangled together inside her.
She leaned back weakly against the pillows, pressing a hand to her chest as she tried to steady herself. "What happened?" she asked hoarsely.
The elderly healer didn’t look up from the potion she was grinding.
"You refused to listen," the woman replied dryly. "I told you your body wasn’t strong enough yet." She clicked her tongue softly. "Another few weeks of proper recovery and you would have regained your strength naturally."
Rhea frowned. Fragments of memory surfaced slowly, running through the forest, Adam arguing with her, the dizziness, then collapsing.
Her jaw tightened slightly. "How were you able to heal me in two months," she asked carefully, "when Ironfang’s healers couldn’t help me in six?"
The healer finally paused. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the crackling fire beside them.
Then the woman poured the steaming liquid into a small cup and handed it over. "Drink."
Rhea eyed the dark mixture suspiciously before swallowing it in one quick gulp, the bitter herbs coated her tongue instantly.
The healer took the cup back with a soft sigh. "Either they weren’t trying to help you," she said quietly, "or they had no idea what they were dealing with."
Rhea’s stomach tightened. "What does that mean?" she said immediately, too fast.
This time, the healer looked directly at her. "The amount of poison in your body when you arrived here pointed to only one conclusion."
Rhea’s pulse began to pound harder beneath her skin.
River stirred uneasily inside her, her voice came low, unsettled. "This doesn’t sit right," she growled. "It smells wrong."
The healer’s expression darkened slightly. "You were being poisoned," she said bluntly. "Slowly. Repeatedly." Her eyes narrowed faintly. "And honestly, it’s a miracle you survived it at all."
Rhea didn’t speak at first. Her throat went dry so suddenly that it felt as if the room had stolen her air. "No," she said finally.
She frowned deeply. "I wasn’t being poisoned. I was poisoned. One time," she corrected, her voice tightening. "So what exactly are you trying to say?"
The healer released a slow sigh and turned away, busying herself with the herbs spread across the wooden table. "I have already told you everything I know."
But that answer only made the unease inside Rhea sharpen.
The healer turned to leave, but before she could reach the door, Rhea moved instinctively, stepping into her path despite the lingering weakness in her body. Her wolf stirred restlessly beneath her skin.
"You should be lying down," the healer warned gently. "I would rather not watch you collapse again."
"That is the least of my concerns right now." Rhea’s voice came out harder than she intended. Her pulse thudded painfully in her ears as she searched the older woman’s face for answers. The room felt too small, the scent of herbs too thick in the air.
"I need to know what happened to me," she said again, quieter this time. "Please."
For a long moment, the healer simply studied her, as though weighing how much truth Rhea was ready to hear.
Then the woman sighed. "Do you remember how this sickness began?"
Rhea’s brows pulled together immediately. The memory hit her fast and sharp. Blackridge, the smoke choking the battlefield, blood soaking into the earth, Kaleb shouting her name, and then the arrow.
For one awful second, she could almost feel it piercing through her body again. "I took an arrow for my Alpha during the battle at Blackridge," she said slowly, pressing a hand unconsciously against the old wound.
The healer tilted her head slightly. "Did you take a poisoned arrow," she asked carefully, "or is that simply what you were told afterward?"
Rhea went completely still. For a second, she forgot how to breathe as Blackridge flashed in her mind; the fire, the screaming, Kaleb’s voice.
Her hand slowly lifted to her side, pressing instinctively against the old wound. But this time, it felt wrong. "No," she whispered, but it came out uneven. "Do you know what you are suggesting?"
The healer held her gaze steadily now. "All I’m saying," she replied, "is that the wound I treated did not look like the kind left behind by a poisoned arrow."
The words landed like claws raking across her spine.
Rhea stared at her in disbelief. "What?" Her voice barely came out.
The healer continued quietly, "I’ve treated enough battle wounds to know the difference. Poison arrows leave traces in the flesh, corruption spreads from the point of impact." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "But your wound was clean."
Rhea’s stomach dropped violently. "No," she whispered. Her mind immediately rebelled against the thought.
River growled low inside her mind now, stronger than before, no longer fading or distant. "They tried to erase us?"
"That can’t be right. Everyone knows what happened at Blackridge," Rhea replied to River.
Kaleb himself had carried her off the battlefield. The healers had said the poison was spreading through her body, and they had spent months claiming the sickness came from the arrow. Hadn’t they?
Rhea’s breathing turned uneven again. "Are you suggesting—?" She swallowed hard, unable to finish the sentence.
The healer said nothing, and that silence was worse than an answer. Then, without another word, the older woman turned to the door. Before stepping out, she paused, but didn’t look back.
"I’ve told you everything I know," she said quietly and then she left.
The door closed with a soft click. Rhea stared at it for a long moment, waiting for it to open again and undo everything that had just been said. It didn’t. freewebnovel.cσ๓
The fire crackled softly nearby. Somewhere outside, wolves howled in the distance, but Rhea barely heard any of it. Her thoughts crashed violently into one another, each realization more horrifying than the last.
If the arrow had never poisoned her, then the sickness hadn’t started at Blackridge. Which meant—
Her breath caught sharply in her throat.
River growled low inside her mind, the sound filled with fury. "They did this to us."
Rhea lowered herself slowly onto the edge of the bed. Her hands were shaking now, but she didn’t stop them. Had they been poisoning her from the very beginning? Had Blackridge simply been the perfect excuse?
A cold chill crept down her spine despite the warmth of the fire.
Kaleb’s voice echoed in her memory. The medicine he brought. Kat feeding her. The healers insisting she take every dose. All of it stitched together now in a way that made her stomach turn violently.
But the worst part, none of it felt accidental anymore.
River didn’t speak this time. Even she was quiet.
Rhea stared at her hands. "It wasn’t Blackridge," she whispered. Her breath hitched. "It started before that."
