The Alpha's Exiled Mate Chapter 244

Thorne's POV

The trip back to the dock was tense. I carried Kaelin myself, her body burning with fever as her Moon Phase Syndrome flared violently. Her eyes rolled back in her head, unfocused and unseeing.

"Can't see," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "Thorne, I can't see..."

"The silver's affecting her syndrome," I explained to Mark, who walked beside me. "Get Dr. Maloy on the phone. Tell him to prepare for severe Moon Phase Syndrome complications."

I handed Kaelin to one of the medically trained Deltas as soon as we reached the shore, then turned immediately to find Freya. She was being supported by another Delta, her face pale but determined. Even now, after everything she'd endured, she refused to show weakness.

"Can you walk?" I asked, moving toward her.

She nodded, but as she tried to take a step, her legs buckled. I caught her before she fell, sweeping her up into my arms. The silver chains around her wrists and ankles clinked softly as she instinctively curled against my chest.

"I've got you," I murmured, low enough that only she could hear. "You're safe now."

The dock was a hive of activity—Delta wolves securing the area, medics attending to Kaelin, Emma White rushing toward us with her face pale with worry.

"Freya!" she called, pushing past a Delta wolf trying to hold her back. "Oh my God, are you okay?"

I stepped between them, my protective instincts flaring. "She needs medical attention first," I said firmly. "The silver exposure was extensive."

Emma looked ready to argue but was interrupted by Miles Everett appearing at her side, medical bag in hand. "Let me check her injuries," he said, already reaching for Freya's wrists.

I stepped back reluctantly, allowing the doctor to approach. I watched as he examined the raw, burned skin where the silver chains had been.

"Significant burns," Miles muttered, his professional demeanor taking over. "And you've been exposed for how long?"

"A few hours," Freya replied, her voice hoarse.

Miles nodded grimly. "We need to get you to the hospital. These burns need treatment, and we need to check for silver absorption into your bloodstream."

"Is that dangerous?" Emma asked, hovering nearby.

"It can be," Miles answered, pulling supplies from his bag to apply a temporary salve. "Silver poisoning affects werewolves differently based on rank and bloodline. For someone with Riley bloodline..." He glanced at Freya with concern.

I tensed immediately. "What about Riley bloodline?" I demanded.

Miles hesitated, glancing at Freya as if asking permission. She nodded slightly.

"Riley bloodline has a particularly strong reaction to silver," Miles explained. "It's why the family was so valuable in the old wars—they could detect even trace amounts of silver by touch. But it also means silver exposure is more damaging to them."

My mind raced, connecting pieces I should have seen long ago. Freya's time in Silver Shackle Prison, the "special treatments" she'd endured, the unusual scarring that had never fully healed.

"Get her to the hospital. Now," I ordered, barely containing my anger.

As they helped Freya toward the waiting vehicle, one of the Deltas approached me urgently.

"Alpha, Brooks is saying something about the exile and Derek. She's not making much sense, but she's insistent."

"What exactly did she say?" I asked sharply.

"Something about them working together," the Delta reported. "Says the exile pushed her when she tried to escape, caused her blindness."

Freya's head snapped up at this. "That's not true," she said immediately, her voice stronger than I expected. "She was already showing symptoms before we were even on the boat."

I studied her face carefully, searching for any sign of deception. Finding none, I nodded slightly.

"Get Freya to the hospital," I instructed Miles. "I'll join you there after I see to Kaelin."

The ride to the hospital was silent save for Kaelin's labored breathing. She lay across the back seat, her head in my lap, face contorted in pain. The medication Mark had administered was taking effect, but her condition remained precarious.

"Thorne," she whispered, her voice weak and trembling. "I can't see anything. It's all... darkness."

I placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. "The silver triggered your syndrome," I explained calmly. "The blindness is temporary."

She clutched at my hand with surprising strength. "It was her," she insisted, words slurring slightly. "Freya... she and Derek know each other... they planned this..."

"Tell me what happened," I prompted, keeping my voice even while my wolf's senses heightened, alert for the subtle shifts in scent that accompanied deception.

Kaelin's breathing quickened. "When I realized Derek had betrayed me—I mean, when he took us both hostage—I tried to escape. But she..." Kaelin swallowed hard. "She pushed me. I fell against the bulkhead... that's when everything went dark."

There it was—the subtle note in her scent that always accompanied a lie. My wolf growled low in recognition.

"How could Freya push you?" I asked quietly. "She was restrained with silver chains, which were still on her when we found you both."

Kaelin's heartbeat spiked. "I... I might be remembering wrong," she stammered. "Everything happened so fast, and with my condition... but I know she was working with him. Why else would he take us to the same place?"

Again, that shift in her scent. More lies.

"We'll sort it out," I assured her, concealing my suspicions. "The important thing now is getting you treatment."

At the hospital, I handed Kaelin over to the waiting medical team before turning to Mark. "I need to check on Freya."

Mark nodded. "The other car arrived five minutes ago. They've taken her to the silver treatment unit on the second floor."

When I reached the treatment unit, I found Miles examining Freya's injuries, his movements gentle and focused, his eyes reflecting unmistakable concern. When he noticed my presence, his posture subtly changed—shoulders tensing, body shifting slightly to position himself between Freya and me in a protective stance.

"These are going to need specialized treatment," the older doctor was saying, his expression grim as he examined her right hand particularly closely. "The burns are deep, and there's evidence of previous silver damage."

"Is it serious?" Emma asked from nearby.

"The burns will heal with time and proper treatment," the doctor said carefully. "But I'm concerned about the neural damage to her right hand. There are signs of extensive previous scarring that's been aggravated by tonight's exposure."

Freya's face paled further. "Will I... will I regain full use of it?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly despite her obvious effort to remain calm.