The Alpha's Exiled Mate Chapter 178

Freya’s POV

"What is it? What's wrong?" The anger had vanished from Thorne's voice, replaced by genuine concern.

I couldn't respond. The pain in my side had become a blazing inferno, radiating through my entire body. My wolf whimpered inside me, trapped by the silver-infused drug Kaelin had used, unable to emerge and heal me. Every breath felt like knives between my ribs, and I could feel the stitches tearing.

Thorne's expression transformed instantly from aggression to shock as the scent of fresh blood filled the air between us. His golden eyes widened, nostrils flaring as he caught the metallic tang.

"You're bleeding," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he reached toward me.

I flinched away, curling into myself protectively. "Don't," I managed through gritted teeth. "Don't touch me."

The movement only intensified the pain, and I couldn't hold back a gasp. My hospital gown felt damp against my side, the warmth of blood seeping through the thin fabric. I pressed my palm against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but the pressure only made the pain worse.

"Freya, let me see," Thorne insisted, his Alpha instincts clearly driving him to help despite our conflict moments before. "You need medical attention."

"What I need is for you to leave," I hissed, my wolf somehow finding strength to surge forward despite the drugs. The primal need to protect myself from a perceived threat—even if that threat was Thorne—overrode everything else.

The door to my hospital room swung open abruptly, and Karen stepped in with fresh bandages. Her eyes widened as she caught the thick scent of blood in the air.

"What's happening here?" she asked, her gaze darting between me and Thorne. When she saw my hunched posture and the growing stain on my gown, she immediately set down her supplies and moved toward me.

"Alpha Thorne," she said firmly, "this is not visiting hours. The patient needs rest, not..." she gestured at the obvious tension between us, "whatever this is."

Karen carefully pulled back the thin blanket covering my legs, revealing the blood that had soaked through my gown and was now staining the sheets beneath me. My wound had indeed reopened, the stitches torn by my emotional outburst and subsequent physical strain.

"Why are you just standing there?" Karen asked Thorne, her tone respectful but urgent. "I need to call the doctor, and you need to step outside. We can't properly treat her with you in the room."

Thorne's face had gone pale, his eyes fixed on the blood spreading across my hospital gown. "I didn't know she was this badly injured," he said, his voice unnaturally quiet. He looked stunned, as if someone had struck him. "I wouldn't have... I didn't mean to..."

"It doesn't matter what you meant to do," Karen replied, already pressing the call button for the doctor. "What matters is that her wound has reopened and needs immediate attention."

I couldn't bring myself to look at Thorne. The pain was making me lightheaded, cold sweat beading on my forehead as I tried to maintain consciousness. "Please," I whispered, not sure if I was speaking to Karen or Thorne. "Please just make him leave."

Thorne took a step backward, his Alpha presence receding slightly. "I apologize," he said formally, eyes still fixed on my wound. "I had no intention of causing further harm."

"Intentions don't matter much when you're bleeding," I muttered, closing my eyes as another wave of pain washed over me.

Before Thorne could respond, the door opened again and the doctor rushed in. He assessed the situation quickly, his expression growing stern as he noticed Thorne.

"Alpha Thorne, I must ask you to leave immediately," he said with surprising authority for a Beta addressing an Alpha. "The patient's condition is delicate, and emotional agitation has clearly exacerbated her injuries."

Thorne nodded stiffly, backing toward the door. His eyes met mine one last time, filled with questions and what almost looked like remorse, before he turned and left the room.

As soon as the door closed behind him, the doctor began examining my wound, carefully lifting the blood-soaked gown to expose the torn stitches beneath.

"This is going to need to be cleaned and redone," he said, his tone clinical but kind. "The silver in your system is still preventing accelerated healing, so we need to be extremely careful about infection."

Karen helped me lie back as the doctor prepared his supplies. "I told you not to get upset," she chided gently. "Your body can't handle strong emotions right now, not with the silver still working its way out."

I bit my lip to keep from crying out as the doctor began cleaning the wound. The antiseptic solution burned worse than the original injury, and without my wolf's healing abilities, every touch felt like torture.

"I know it hurts," the doctor said sympathetically. "But you're doing well. Just a bit more."

I stared at the ceiling, counting the tiles to distract myself from the pain. Twenty-four full tiles, four half-tiles along the wall. Four light fixtures, one directly above my bed. I focused on these meaningless details, trying to escape the burning agony in my side.

"Your tolerance for pain is remarkable," the doctor commented as he began replacing the stitches. "Most wolves would be howling by now, even Betas with twice your size."

"Had practice," I managed through clenched teeth.

Karen exchanged a look with the doctor that I couldn't interpret. There was something like pity there, or perhaps concern.

"There," the doctor said finally, applying a fresh bandage. "That should hold, but you absolutely must rest. No more visitors who upset you, no arguments, no sudden movements. Do you understand?"

I nodded weakly, exhaustion washing over me. The combination of pain, blood loss, and the lingering effects of the silver drug had drained what little energy I had.

"I'll make sure she rests," Karen promised, adjusting my pillows and pulling a clean blanket over me.

As they finished, I heard voices outside my door—one female, sharp and insistent, and one male, deeper and commanding. A moment later, the door opened again, and Emma White stepped in, followed closely by Jasper Stone.

Karen frowned at the intrusion. "She needs rest. The doctor just—"

"I'm aware," Jasper cut her off, his Alpha tone brooking no argument. "But as her employer and current Alpha, I need to see the extent of her injuries for myself."

I tensed at his words. "Current Alpha" seemed like a deliberate provocation, especially if Thorne was still nearby. But I was too weak to worry about pack politics right now.

Emma hurried to my side, her face tight with concern. "Freya, what happened? We heard Alpha Thorne was here, and then there was commotion about medical emergency..."

"Her wound reopened," Karen explained when I didn't immediately answer. "The doctor just restitched it."

Jasper approached the bed, his movements calculated and smooth as always. Without asking permission, he pulled back the edge of my blanket to examine the fresh bandage visible through my gown.

"How did this happen?" he demanded, his voice low but intense.

I winced at his directness. "Emotional stress," I said simply, not wanting to elaborate on my confrontation with Thorne.

Jasper's eyes narrowed. "You mean Grey upset you enough to tear your stitches? After you were kidnapped and nearly killed by his fiancée's hired wolves?"

Emma's head snapped up at that. "What? That's what happened to you?" Her expression darkened with fury. "Grey came here to what—yell at you while you're recovering from an attack orchestrated by his future mate?"

"Emma," I said weakly, reaching for her arm. "Don't."

But Emma was already moving toward the door, her Beta protective instincts fully engaged. "I'm going to have a word with that self-righteous Alpha."