apter One Hundred and Forty Two
“The drink isn’t helping, is it?” Phil questioned.
“I needed it–I guess, but I need to head back now.”
I dropped the glass back on the table, noticing how shaky and unsteady my hands were. Phil didn’t miss that either.
“There is another way, you know,” he said, and I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant. “A way to overcome the addiction–one that would be less… troubling.”
“There’s no other way.” I said, not wanting to get my hopes high.
“There is,” he insisted. “If you are this affected, it means you’ve been on the doses for years… You can’t just quit; you’d have to take it slow.”
“What are you trying to say?”
I was snappy, restless, and on edge for no reason.
“What I’m trying to say is that you’ll need doses of wolfsbane to survive this. You’d have to start over–but this time, with each dose, you’d gradually reduce your intake, letting your body adjust to smaller portions. Then, you’d slowly begin skipping days between doses. Eventually, you wouldn’t depend on it as much, and stopping would be easier than just quitting abruptly.”
“You don’t understand. The more I take, the more I crave,” I said, running a shaky hand through my hair.
“You’d have to learn how to control your cravings.”
“You speak like you’ve got experience. Tell me, Phil, have you tried this technique on anyone before?”
I was well aware I sounded like a jerk, but I couldn’t help it. The music blasting from the speaker was normally easy to ignore, blending into the background noise, but this time, it was too loud. The colored bulbs were too bright, and my head pounded.
“No, I haven’t tried this technique on anyone, but I am your advisor. I want to help…”
All his words blurred together, mixing with the surrounding
He was just too much of it.
“Shut up,” I whispered, but the sounds wouldn’t fade. “I said, the up!”
ས་་
When I opened my eyes, Phil wasn’t even talking. At some point, he’d stopped, and I hadn’t even noticed.
“You need help, Alpha.”
Like hell I did.
“Healers can treat wolfsbane injuries and poisoning–but they can’t help someone addicted to it.”
Phil finally fell silent.
I headed to the door, but his next words made me pause.
“I wouldn’t return to the Luna in that state,” he said.
Only now did I realize how intelligent the man was. I needed help—he was right about that–but not many knew exactly how to give it.
I turned to him.
Chapter One Hundred and Forty Two
“About your ‘technique‘… How long do you think it would take… for the addiction to fade?”
“It could be months. It could be years…”
I didn’t wait to hear more. I walked away from the bar, leaving him behind.
The problem was, I didn’t have ‘years‘.
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I ignored Phil’s advice and went straight to Kaida.
For the past few days, I had done my best to pretend like everything was fine when I was around her; I had a feeling it would be harder to do so today, and I was right. The moment she saw me, her smile disappeared. I wonder what gave me away so quickly.
“Are you alright?” She asked, walking towards me.
Had she always smelled like this? Her scent seemed stronger than ever.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“You’re not. Your shirt is stained with blood.”
1 cocked a brow and looked down. There it was—the little stain that gave me away. I hadn’t even noticed it.
“That… you don’t have to worry about it,” I said, walking past her. I stopped, then went back and placed a kiss on her forehead. My hands remained in my pockets, though I was afraid she’d notice them trembling. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me closer. Rising onto her tiptoes, she kissed my lips, and just like that, I got carried away. I wrapped my arms around her neck and kissed her fiercely. Somehow, the pounding headache I had been feeling dulled–but then she pulled away. I grabbed her, unwilling to let go. I kissed her again, but she pulled away once more.
“Blood…” she whispered. She wasn’t referring to the stain on my shirt.
Kaida was never really affected by the sight of blood; she’d seen enough spilled to be unfazed by anything. At least, that’s what I had always thought. But this time, she looked… scared.
“I’m sorry,” I pleaded, wiping the blood away. “I’m sorry, I repeated.
“Are you alright?” she asked again.
I wanted to keep apologizing, to say it over and over until it meant something–but the fear in her eyes knocked me back to my senses.
Her gaze drifted down to my trembling hands. Slowly, she took my hands in hers.
“What’s happening, Alex?” she asked, her voice small. But we both knew the answer.
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