Mated To My Mate's Worst Enemy Chapter 67

ARIA

"I'm fine," Ivory repeated, though she did accept Nina's supporting arm. "I just need to make sure the dosages are right, make sure the patients receive proper follow-up care. Then I'll rest."

She wouldn't, I knew. She'd keep working until she literally couldn't stand anymore, driven by that same dedication and stubbornness that had led her to poison herself in the first place.

I looked around the clinic, taking in the full scope of what had happened this morning. Four healers attacked by rogues while gathering herbs. Ivory found poisoned from her own experiments. Multiple critical patients saved by antidotes Ivory had been reckless enough to test on herself.

And through it all, Ivory maintaining that careful distance from Kael, refusing to acknowledge their friendship, treating him with formal respect instead of the easy warmth they used to share.

The pack members who'd heard about Ivory's condition were starting to arrive—not to check on the other injured healers, I noticed, but specifically to see Ivory. They crowded into the clinic's waiting area, asking after her, expressing concern, praising her dedication.

"Did you hear? Ivory saved those healers."

"She was testing poisons on herself. Can you imagine the courage that takes?"

"She nearly died making sure she could protect us. That's true pack loyalty."

The admiration in their voices was clear. Undeniable. And it made something twist in my chest that I recognized as jealousy but tried to push down.

Ivory was beloved by this pack. Had earned that love through years of dedicated service, through risking her own life to develop better treatments, through always putting the pack's needs above her own safety.

And I—I was the Luna they were stuck with, the political convenience who'd been here barely more than a week and had yet to prove myself capable of anything beyond basic survival.

The comparison was stark and unflattering.

"Luna Aria," Eliza's voice pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. "Could you help me prepare beds for the recovering patients? They'll need to stay under observation for at least twenty-four hours."

I moved to help, grateful for something useful to do, for a way to contribute that didn't involve complex medical knowledge I didn't possess.

As I worked, I watched Ivory move among the patients, checking their conditions, adjusting their treatments, offering quiet words of comfort. Despite her own weakness, despite having just survived poisoning, she was completely focused on caring for others.

And the pack members who'd come to check on her watched with the same admiration I'd heard in their voices. With love and respect and gratitude for everything she represented.

A healer who would literally poison herself to find better ways to protect them.

A pack member who blocked the mindlink rather than disturb others with her distress.

Someone who had proven her dedication over and over, in ways I was only beginning to understand.

How was I supposed to compete with that? How was I supposed to earn even a fraction of the loyalty and love Ivory commanded?

The answer, I realized as I finished preparing the beds, was that I couldn't. Not by trying to be like her, not by attempting to match her years of service in mere days or weeks.

I could only be myself. Could only find my own path to earning the pack's trust. Could only hope that eventually, my own contributions would be valued even if they were different from Ivory's.

But watching her now—exhausted and weak but still working, still caring, still giving everything she had to protect her pack—I understood why the comparison felt so impossible.

Because Ivory wasn't just competent. She was extraordinary. And I was still figuring out how to be adequate.

The gap between us felt insurmountable.

And judging by the way pack members kept thanking Ivory while barely acknowledging my presence, I wasn't the only one who thought so.