A known Visitor

Zois accompanied Eila all the way to the infirmary, a quiet but constant presence at her side. Every now and then, his knuckles brushed against hers, like he was testing how much distance she'd allow. Eila smiled to herself, pretending not to notice. She was getting used to this—Zois's way of showing affection without demanding too much space, at least when they were in public.

Just before she reached the entrance, Zois suddenly stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

"Not even a proper hello?" he teased, his steel-grey eyes twinkling. "Your mate waits half the morning for you, and this is the thanks I get?"

Eila chuckled, raising a brow. "I said hello, didn't I?"

He shook his head and leaned down, his lips dangerously close to hers. "Not the hello I was hoping for."

Before she could retort, he planted a quick, warm kiss on her lips, smug satisfaction lighting up his face. "There. Now I can let you go."

"You're insufferable," she muttered, but the grin tugging at her mouth betrayed her.

Just then, Rosalie—the head healer—called from inside, her voice brisk. "Eila, you're late!"

Eila groaned softly. "Duty calls," she said, shooting Zois a playful glare. "See you later?"

"Actually," Zois said, his expression turning serious, "I'll wait. I have news from Leonard and us brothers. We'll talk when you're done."

That caught her attention, but Rosalie's impatience made it impossible to linger. With a promise to be quick, she disappeared into the infirmary.

Inside, Rosalie was already in the middle of preparing poultices and organizing herbs.

"Finally," Rosalie said without looking up. "You have a lot to catch up on. You may be a gifted healer, but if you don't balance your skills with proper herb knowledge, you'll remain reckless."

Eila swallowed her pride and joined the head healer. Rosalie walked her through identifying specific herbs used to reduce swelling, treat infections, and aid stamina recovery.

"Power like yours is a gift," Rosalie said, her tone softer now. "But if you ever find yourself drained or your magic blocked, these will save lives—including your own."

Eila listened carefully, knowing Rosalie's words came from hard-earned experience.

Midway through the lesson, the door creaked open. Nina stepped in, her silver-streaked hair tied neatly back, eyes sharp as ever. Today she was wearing a royal blue dress. Her dresses were always so gaudy. 

"Eila," Nina greeted, smiling. "I thought I'd find you here."

"Lady Nina," Rosalie greeted her with respect but she was surprised. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

"I came to check on my pupil," Nina said warmly. Then her gaze narrowed playfully at Eila. "And to make sure she isn't driving you mad yet."

Rosalie chuckled. "Not yet, but the day is still young."

Eila flushed but was glad for the levity. Nina stayed to observe a while, occasionally adding her own insights on magical properties of herbs and the intersection between werewolf stamina and magical exhaustion. Eila was soaking it all in, realizing how little she still knew.

Finally, after the session wound down, Nina took her aside. "Go on, I can see Zois still lurking outside. Don't keep your mate waiting."

Eila didn't need telling twice. She cleaned up quickly, thanked Rosalie and Nina, and hurried outside.

Zois was where she'd left him, pacing idly but straightening when he saw her. His playful demeanor was gone now, replaced with concern.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"We got a message from Leonard," Zois said quietly. "The rupture at Hollowfang Glen is growing—slowly but steadily. And… there's something else."

Eila's stomach tightened. "What?"

"Jeremy Soren," Zois muttered. "He was spotted—not near the Glen, but near the border of the pack's territory."

"What?!" Eila's heart thumped. "Did he do anything?"

"No attack, but his presence means he's watching. Planning." Zois's jaw tightened. "Leonard and Lukas are preparing the warriors to reinforce the borders just in case. Alpha wants a meeting with all of us tonight—including you, Eila."

She nodded, anxiety brewing in her chest. The rupture, Jeremy's shadow… it was closing in.

But Zois reached out and held her hand, his grip warm and steady. "We're not letting anything happen to you. Not while I'm breathing."

That promise settled over her heart like a shield. She squeezed his hand back.

"Come on," he said gently. "Let me walk you home before the meeting."

She smiled faintly. "I'd like that."

Together, they walked through the village streets, the threat of what was to come looming—but for now, she had her mate by her side and a small pocket of peace