Fake Mating To My Ex's Powerful Enemy

Chapter 96: Chapter 96 Her Painful Past

Hudson’s POV

"Alpha Hudson, we’ve arrived at the hospital," Dominic announced from the front seat.

Hudson pushed the door open before the car fully stopped. Christina burned against his chest, her face red with fever.

"I need help," he called out. Several nurses rushed over.

"This way, Alpha Hudson," one said, leading them to a private room.

Minutes later, Christina lay on a hospital bed with an IV in her arm. The doctor checked her vitals while Hudson watched every move.

"This doesn’t make sense," Lycaon growled in his mind. "Our kind doesn’t get sick like this."

Hudson agreed silently. Werewolves healed fast.

"When will she wake up?" Hudson asked the doctor. "What’s causing this?"

The doctor looked up from his chart. "Her vitals are getting better. The fever seems to be from severe trauma. Has she been through anything stressful recently?"

"She nearly drowned tonight," Hudson said.

The doctor nodded. "That explains it. This looks like trauma-induced fever. Even for werewolves, psychological shock can mess with the immune system. The mind gets so stressed that the body can’t keep up."

"So this is psychological?"

"Most likely. Has she had water trauma before?"

Hudson’s face darkened. "I think so."

After the doctor left, Hudson sat beside Christina’s bed. Her breathing was steady now, but her face stayed flushed. He brushed hair from her forehead.

"We need answers," Lycaon said.

Hudson pulled out his phone. "I know exactly who to ask."

Ysolde rushed in almost an hour later, breathing hard, sweat on her face.

She almost hit the doorframe.

"What happened? Why is she burning up?"

Hudson nodded toward the chairs. "Someone pushed her into the pool. Her fever spiked after we pulled her out."

"She was pushed?" Ysolde had sat down but jumped back up immediately. "She’s terrified of water. That must have scared her to death."

Hudson’s eyes narrowed. "You knew she was afraid?"

He’d heard parts of the story from Christina in the car, but her words were confused and incomplete.

He hadn’t pressed her then, but he wanted the full truth now.

Ysolde crossed her arms. "Yeah. She’s okay with showers and stuff, but she can’t really swim. I mean, she knows how, but she panics around deep water." She looked back at the bed. "Who the hell pushed her in?"

"Isobel Brooke."

Ysolde’s expression turned dark fast. She stood up again. "That psycho’s back in Highrise City?"

She rolled up her sleeves. "Where is she?"

"Sit down." Hudson’s voice was sharp. "You’re going to tell me exactly what happened before. I’ll handle Isobel."

Ysolde stared at him.

He stared back.

"Fine," she said after losing the staring contest. "Christina and I grew up together. But I got sent to boarding school in Europe. I wasn’t here when Isobel started her bullying campaign. Christina told me about it later."

She explained everything. Names. Events. Details that made Hudson’s jaw clench.

It matched what Christina had mumbled earlier, but clearer and much worse.

Halfway through, Ysolde got so angry she grabbed the water cup from the table and drank half of it in one gulp.

"It was pure bullying. No question. And Christina wasn’t the only target. Isobel went after anyone who wouldn’t bow down to her. Everyone knew. But nobody did anything. Christina’s parents took thirty thousand and settled quietly. No charges. Just buried it."

She slammed the cup down. Water splashed over the edge.

"And don’t think it was about money. They didn’t need it. They had business deals with the Brookes. They just didn’t want trouble. They treated Christina like she was worthless. She never saw a penny of that settlement. Not one dollar. Her parents are garbage. But what could she do? She was just a teenager."

Her voice cracked. She wiped her face with her sleeve.

Hudson pushed the tissue box toward her. "Her family treated her badly. Do you know why?"

Ysolde’s tears disappeared instantly. Her voice got higher.

"Treated her badly? Try worse than a servant. Those two put on this act in public, pretending they love both daughters equally. Total lies. Behind closed doors, they treated Christina like hired help. Actually, they were nicer to their actual staff."

She spat out the names like they were poison.

"Alpha Franklin kept his distance. Always ’too busy with pack business,’ like that was an excuse. Luna Caroline spoiled Beatrice like she was made of gold, and whatever attention was left went to Beatrice. Christina got nothing."

Ysolde shook her head, furious.

Then she answered Hudson’s unspoken question, "I always said they must have switched babies at the hospital. It’s the only explanation. No real parent treats their own child like that. I even told Christina to get DNA samples for a secret test, but she wouldn’t do it. I dropped it." She shrugged. "Maybe it’s easier not knowing."

Hudson didn’t respond. His eyes stayed on the cup Ysolde had slammed down, imagining it was Franklin and Caroline’s faces.

Ysolde sighed.

"You have no idea what she endured. She learned to fight just to protect herself. And that monster Isobel Brooke? Still has the nerve to show up in Highrise City. I hope she gets what’s coming to her."

Hudson’s ears rang. Ysolde kept talking, but he couldn’t focus on her words anymore.

She left eventually, and the room became silent. freewebnσvel.cѳm

Finally, he moved.

Christina lay still under the white blanket.

Her face had lost its flush. Her skin was pale, mouth relaxed, dark lashes against her cheeks.

Hudson stepped closer and touched her face.

Her skin felt cool again.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

Then he got into the bed, pulled her against his chest, wrapped his arm around her waist, and closed his eyes.

"Her own parents sold her out," Lycaon growled in his mind. "For business deals."

"The Crescent pack failed her," Hudson thought back. "We won’t."

Something pressed against his chest. He opened his eyes.

The room was dark. Light from the hallway came under the door but didn’t reach the bed.

His back was stiff from how he’d been lying.

Christina was half on top of him now, her forehead against his throat.

The IV had been removed. There was a small red mark on her hand where it had been.

That same hand was gripping his shirt, fingers moving like she was searching for something.

She kept shifting restlessly, her body twisting against his like her clothes bothered her.

Her breathing was uneven. Her forehead and cheeks were wet with sweat. Her collar was damp. Her eyes stayed closed, lashes pressed tight. Her mouth was tense.

The heat coming from her was worse than before.