His Rejected Mateless Luna

Nathan

“How is he today?” I asked softly, resting a hand on Elder Vera’s slumped shoulder.

She shook her head wearily, face etched deep with lines of worry and grief. “1 spirit dims further each time he wakes.

er continues burning unchecked. His

I swallowed thickly, nodding. After months battling this mysterious wasting sickness, Father had finally taken a sharp turn last night, his stubborn vitality flagging. Now we raced against time to save him before the traditional remedies proved useless.

But desperation made my next request no less distasteful. “Vera, please give us the room. I must speak privately with my father.

Her expression clouded with concern. But she patted my hand in acquiescence before slipping away to grant us privacy. Father’s rheumy eyes blinked open at her departure, wandering until they settled unsteadily on me. I settled gingerly on the bedside chair and clasped his limp hand in both of mine.

“Father, l’urso sorry to disturb your rest,” I began gently. “But there’s something we must discuss.”

With effort, he shifted slightly against the pillows, searching my face intently. “What is it.. my son?” His once–booming voice now barely stirred the air, leached away by illness. But I could still detect the courage and wisdom etched into every fading syllable.

I took a deep breath, praying he would not take offense to what I proposed. ‘I fear your condition is beyond the healers power now. But there may be other remedies we have not explored. In the human world.”

Father’s eyes flashed, a hint of his old fire reigniting. “You suggest…consorting with those unbalanced creatures, devoid of magic or pack bonds?” He shook his head firmly, or attempted to. I will not abandon tradition…at the end.”

Panic clawed up my throat. He had always stubbornly rejected what he termed “human nonsense like modern medicine. But watching him waste away left little choice now.

“They have sciences we do not, I pressed urgently. “Methods that may restore your health when ours fail. We have to try. Fatherl

I expected more resistance, or at least a stern warning not to disgrace my lineage. But Father only sighed, a lifetime of vigilance seeming to slough off his weakened frame

“You were always the curious one, eager to understand the difference… The ghost of a smile crossed his face before fading again. “Perhaps an open mind bears wisdom at times. Very well, my son. We shall try things your way, just this once.”

Profound relief slackened my rigid shoulders. Bless the moon goddess, he would not block this path that might offer salvation. I squeezed his frail hand gently

“Thank you, Father. I swear I will find their best healers and bring them here. You’ll be on your feet in no time!”

He indulged my optimistic bravado with a wan smile. We both knew time was not on our side. But forged opportunities remained, however slim. And for now, fragile hope shone brighter than grim reality’s shadows.

I bid Father farewell with a fervent promise to return swiftly. Then went in search of Derek, finding him directing construction of Father’s ceremonial memorial site a woefully premature task. He took one look at my expression and ordered the other workers away.

“What did he say?” Derek demanded before I could speak, tone betraying his expectation of refusal even now,

A fierce grin broke across my face. “He agreed, my friend. We’re to find a human healer capable of treating him”

Derek started, stunned. He approved using…modern methods? Never thought I’d see the day” He shook his head in wonder. But urgency soon darkened his features once more.

“We’ve no time to lose then. I’ll dispatch couriers and researchers immediately to identify candidates.” He clasped my shoulder. “Take heart, Alpha. We’ll find someone to save him.”

I clapped his hand gratefully. Derek never faltered, even when hope dwindled to a mere

the charge, we would scour the land as needed until a cure was secured. Failure was inconceivable.

flicker. With him leading

While Derek’s team sought out skilled human doctors, 1 spent every possible moment at Father’s bedside, reading to him or simply sitting in silent company. The windows‘ cheerful sunlight seemed cruelly indifferent to our suffering. But I maintained an upbeat front regardless.

On the fifth day, Derek burst into the sickroom with barely a knock, eyes alight. “Alpha! We have words from several prospective healers.”

Pulse quickening. I followed him out to the hall where we could confer freely. He waved a thick sheaf of notes. “Most declined assisting, skeptical they could help without full medical details. But seven expressed potential willingness, pending an examination.”

My knees nearly buckled in relief. Only seven receptive prospects, yet it felt like an embarrassment of riches after vainly combing every arcane magical remedy. I clapped Derek’s broad back. “Seven options is progress! Well done. What do we know of them so far?”

We pored over the abbreviated bios Derek’s team had compiled. Three candidates immediately stood out thanks to their prestigious credentials and experience with rare illnesses. The others had less renown but still solid qualifications.

It was a place to begin, at least. Better odds than we’d had mere days ago. Cautious optimism took root as I grasped Derek’s arm. “Send word we will pay their travel costs and generously compensate for their time. I want to meet the three most promising ones here within a fortnight”

Derek’s grin mirrored my renewed hope. “Consider it done!”

The next weeks crawled by in agonizing monotony as we awaited the doctors‘ arrival. Father drifted in and out of mercifully painless sleep, his breathing increasingly labored. I sat vigil late into each night, fearing every faint wheeze or pause lasting too long signaled the end. But always he rallied just enough to greet the new day, my prayers sustained a while longer.

At last, after days of anxious anticipation, Derek informed me the first prospective healer had just arrived by private air and awaited my study. I practically sprinted down the corridor, skidding to a stop just shy of the carved mahogany doors to collect myself. This was our first true chance at salvation. I must make a steady, serious impression

Squaring my shoulders, I stepped inside. The brown–haired man in a pristine white coat rose politely from the leather armchair, extending his hand. “Doctor Elias Rhodes, at your service. I understand you have a rather unique medical case?”

We shook briefly. His grip was pleasantly firm. “Thank you for coming, Doctor. Please have a seat

Over the next hour, I carefully described Father’s symptoms, only alluding generally to the supernatural elements at play. Dr. Rhodes listened attentively, asking intelligent questions now and then Cautious optimism rose in me as we conversed. Perhaps this man held the answers we so desperately sought.

Afterwards, I escorted him to Father’s room, Propped up weakly on pillows, his cheeks looked especially hollow under the sunlight filtering through curtained windows. But he still met my gaze steadily as I made introductions.

Dr. Rhodes’s competent and considerate bedside manner quickly won over even Father’s inherent skepticism. “Modern medicine…has come far it seems… Father noted approvingly after the examination. The first spark of hope in weeks glimmered in his sunken eyes.

In his study. Dr. Rhodes spread open a thick folder, pointing our intriguing charts and test results. Based on all your father’s symptoms, I have several theories on a treatment plan,” he explained. “With your permission, I’d like to begin targeted interventions right away.”

At last, a concrete path forward rather than blind fumbling in the dark! After months of bleak helplessness, this doctor’s bold confidence felt like a fresh breeze dispersing storm clouds, I authorized him immediately to commence whatever treatments he saw fit. Failure was not an option.

The next two weeks brought a cascade of exotic tests, machines, fluids, and other baffling therapies. Dr. Rhodes coordinated the efforts with quiet efficiency, adjusting his theories based on Father’s varied reactions. I tried not to hover anxiously. occupying myself with pack affairs while leaving the healing work to the expert.Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

But each evening I watched Father closely for any signs of improvement. At first his strength seemed bolstered by the doctor’s attention and influx of nutrients. He sat up unaided again, able to take short walks around the room. Talk of recovery grew cautiously optimistic.

Until the tide turned unexpectedly yet again. No matter what solutions Dr. Rhodes devised, Father’s fevers raged on as his body wasted away further. The doctor’s confidence visibly dimmed as remedies continued failing.

On an unseasonably mild evening nearly a month since his arrival, I finally worked up the nerve to pose the question haunting me. “How long before we know if your treatments are if they will work?”

Dr. Rhodes removed his spectacles with a weary sigh, the gesture saying enough. “You’ve allowed me extensive time and license, which I appreciate, he began diplomatically. “But if we haven’t seen meaningful improvement yet…”

He didn’t need to finish. The miserable truth sat like a stone in my gut. Father’s remaining time was mercilessly shor Dr. Rhodes had given his all, but a cure lay beyond his abilities. Or perhaps no cure existed, magical or scientific. We had only granted a few extra weeks together before the inevitable end. Time I now deeply cherish.

1 thanked the doctor sincerely for his tireless efforts before seeing him off the next morning. Then braced myself to gently explain to Father that the end was near, and we should now simply savor what days remained.

But ever the stoic leader, he accepted the news with tranquil resignation. “Do not despair, my son. My spirit was ready…only the flesh lingered. But our weeks together were a gift. Now you pust look ahead….for the pack’s sake.”

I clutched his frail hand, unable to imagine going on alone. But also knowing he was right. With Father’s guidance, I had been molded into a strong Alpha. His lessons must give me courage to reign justly after he is gone. Ancestors willing. I would prove worthy of his legacy.

The next two visiting doctors met similar disappointment. Try as they might with increasingly creative measures, none could stave off Father’s steady decline.

As the weeks dragged on, preserving his fragile life became my singular obsession. I scarcely left his bedside except when Derek forced me to attend to critical pack matters.

By the time the seventh and final prospective healer arrived, my hopes had dwindled to the last guttering candle’s flame.

But this doctor’s impressive resume kept me from dismissing the effort entirely. Perhaps she might recognize something all the others overlooked. Every moment we had together mattered

My study doors opened to reveal a petite woman with ginger waves not unlike Terra’s. But Dr. Amara’s eyes were piercingly sharp compared to Terra’s soft dreamy green. She radiated confidence and keen intelligence.

“A pleasure to meet you, Alpha. I understand your father’s case has proven quite the inscrutable enigma. Her clipped tone echoed her no–nonsense demeanor.

I smiled tiredly. “You could say that. Our healers are baffled, unfortunately. But your insights are most welcome.”

We discussed Father’s symptoms thoroughly, but when I moved to escort her to his room, she held up a slim hand. “Let me review my notes for a moment first. I prefer seeing patients with fresh eyes”

Her rigorous methods inspired hope this doctor might succeed where others failed. I did my best to temper irrational expectations, prepared for likely disappointment. But some deep instinct pushed me to keep faith a little longer.

After an hour sequestered in my study. Dr. Amara finally indicated readiness to attempt diagnosing Father. I led her to his chamber, watching anxiously as she conducted her examination. Father regarded her quizzically but allowed her thorough prodding and explorations without objection.

Finally she stepped back, nodding thoughtfully to herself. “A very curious case indeed. But I may have some ideas. Allow me tonight to consult my resources, and I shall inform you tomorrow if I feel I may be of assistance.”

Mystified but optimistic, I thanked the doctor and bid her good evening after Derek showed her to prepared guest quarters. For the first time in ages, restful sleep found me that night. The stars seemed aligned once more.

The next morning I awaited Dr. Amara’s arrival with barely contained impatience. When at last she entered my study, I searched her inscrutable face for signs of success or defeat. Her expression gave away nothing.

Setting aside what appeared to be a thick folder, she folded her hands neatly atop the desk, “Based on close examination of your father’s symptoms, I believe I recognize certain patterns that will allow me to formulate an effective treatment plan

It was the most wonderful, unbelievable sentence I had heard in recent memory. I stared, scarcely daring to hope. “You you, believe you can help him?” I stammered.

“I did know the symptoms but there’s my friend who is a specialist in this field. But she is really busy and doesn’t have time. She’s all booked up for the till the end of the year. So I’ll be better if you go to her.” She suggested.

“Okay, can you send her location?” I suddenly asked, not wanting to spend a minute here.

I smiled just to have a little patience, dad. I’ll get you treated.