From Rejected Mate to Luna Chapter 135

Julia's POV

Hours later, I sat alone on the porch of my small cabin, emotionally and physically drained. The night's events had granted me a reprieve, but Nathan wouldn't forgive the public humiliation. His gaze as the ceremony ended had promised retribution.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Matthew's name flashed on the screen. I answered, pressing the phone to my ear.

"Julia? You sound exhausted. What's happened?" His voice carried concern that washed over me like a balm.

"Religious politics, pack drama, and a very timely shift in the wind," I replied, too tired to explain fully.

His response was immediate and firm. "I'm coming to Star Shadow. Tomorrow."

"Matthew, no—" I began, but he cut me off.

"This has gone far enough. Nathan has made this personal, and I won't let you face him alone any longer." The determination in his voice was unyielding, like a wall of granite. "It'll take longer than usual though. They've set up health checkpoints at most county lines because of the outbreak. Everyone's getting screened before they can pass through. James says some people are waiting hours just to get temperature checks and paperwork verified."

My throat tightened with unexpected emotion. After hours of fighting Nathan's manipulation alone, Matthew's unwavering support felt like finding shelter during a storm.

I should protest—tell him not to risk the journey, not to face the tedious checkpoints and potential exposure—but I couldn't form the words. Kaia whined softly within me, craving the safety his presence promised.

"Thank you," I whispered instead, hating the tremor in my voice but too drained to hide it. "Just... be careful. Bring your medical credentials. It might help at the checkpoints." I paused, then added more softly, "I didn't realize how much I needed to hear your voice until now."

---

I stared at the crowded medical center, my chest tight with a mix of determination and dread. What had once been our community center's main hall was now an improvised hospital ward, with thirty-eight beds crammed together, every single one filled with feverish pack members. The air smelled of antiseptic, sweat, and the distinctive metallic scent of wolf blood.

"Julia, we're out of beds," John whispered beside me, his normally bright eyes dulled by exhaustion. "Three more families just arrived with symptoms."

I pulled my hair back into a tighter ponytail, mind racing. Two days had passed since the Moon Revelation ceremony where Oliver had granted me permission to continue my medical work. Two days of non-stop admissions as the werewolf flu spread through Star Shadow like wildfire.

"We can't turn them away," I said, checking Mrs. Keller's IV line. The elderly wolf's fever had finally broken, but she still needed monitoring. "And we can't keep packing people in here like sardines. The virus will just keep spreading."

Dr. Moore approached, his white coat rumpled from a twenty-hour shift. "Two more of my nurses called in sick. We're down to a skeleton crew."

I surveyed the room. Medical staff moved between beds like zombies, their movements slow with fatigue. Some hadn't slept more than two hours at a stretch since the outbreak began. Even with wolves' enhanced healing, we couldn't keep this pace without breaking.

"We need a separate facility," I said, the idea crystallizing in my mind. "A dedicated isolation ward away from the general population."

Dr. Moore frowned. "Nathan would never approve additional resources."

I glanced at my watch. "Then we won't ask him."

The old training gym stood at the edge of pack territory, abandoned after the new facility was built three years ago. Its concrete walls and high ceilings made it perfect for our needs. Most importantly, it was far enough from the main buildings that Nathan rarely visited this area.

"It's going to need serious cleaning," Eric said, eyeing the dust-covered equipment and cobwebs hanging from the rafters. My brother had shown up unexpectedly, arms loaded with spare medical supplies from the high school nurse's office.

"And we'll need to figure out proper ventilation," John added, already measuring the windows. He'd immediately volunteered when I'd mentioned my plan, bringing several of his classmates with him.

I nodded, my wolf Kaia stirring with nervous energy beneath my skin. "We'll divide it into sections - critical cases in the back where we can set up oxygen, moderate cases in the middle, and mild cases near the entrance."

"What about Nathan?" Eric asked quietly. "He's going to notice this eventually."

My stomach tightened at my brother's question, but I kept my expression neutral. "By then, we'll have results that speak for themselves. Even Nathan can't argue with lives saved."

Over the next eighteen hours, we transformed the dusty gym into a functioning isolation ward. Pack members who'd recovered from the flu or followed my prevention protocols and remained healthy arrived in waves to help. Some brought cots from home, others donated sheets and blankets. The school's maintenance staff installed portable fans for circulation and rigged up privacy curtains.

By midnight, we had fifty beds ready and a basic pharmacy established. As I stood in the center of the ward, exhausted but proud, a frantic call came through on the walkie-talkie we'd set up.

"Julia!" It was Owen, one of the Council members who'd been quietly supportive of my efforts. "It's my son, Alex. He's burning up and having seizures. The regular fever reducers aren't working."

My heart lurched. "Bring him to the new facility. I'll meet you there."

Four-year-old Alex lay on the examination table, his small body wracked with tremors. His temperature read 105.8 - dangerously high even for a werewolf child.

"How long has he been like this?" I asked, gathering supplies.

"It started this morning," Owen said, his normally confident voice shaking. His wife Natalie stood beside him, tears streaming down her face. "We thought it was just the regular flu, but he kept getting worse."

I checked Alex's pupils and listened to his chest. The distinctive crackle in his lungs confirmed my suspicions. This wasn't just the regular werewolf flu - it was the severe variant I'd read about in reports from Mountain Creek Pack.

"His metabolic rate is too high," I explained. "He's burning through the medication before it can work."

"What can we do?" Natalie whispered.

I hesitated. The treatment I was thinking of wasn't standard protocol - it was experimental, based on research I'd been studying at university.

"There's a combination therapy we could try," I said carefully. "A modified dose of antivirals with a wolf-specific metabolic stabilizer. It's shown promise in other packs, but—"

"It's risky," Dr. Moore interrupted from the doorway, his expression grave. "We've never used it here before."

Owen looked between us. "Is there any other option?"

I met his gaze squarely. "Not with his temperature this high and rising."

A tense silence filled the room. Then Owen nodded. "Do it."