The Alpha's Exiled Mate Chapter 245

Thorne's POV

Before the doctor could answer, Miles gestured him outside. The two stepped out, leaving Freya with Emma and a nurse who continued treating her burns.

I followed the doctors into the hallway, my Alpha authority giving me access to their private consultation.

"What's the prognosis?" I demanded.

Miles ran a hand through his hair, his professional mask slipping to reveal genuine concern, but when he looked at me, a flash of reproach crossed his eyes. "It's not good, Alpha," he said, with a slight chill in his tone. "The silver burns on her wrists and ankles will heal with time. But her right hand..." He shook his head. "There's significant neural damage, likely from repeated silver exposure during her time in Silver Shackle Prison. Tonight's incident has exacerbated that damage considerably."

"Can it be repaired?" I pressed.

"We'll try everything—anti-inflammatory medications, specialized silver-purging therapies, physical therapy," Miles said, his tone professional but the accusation in his eyes growing more evident. "But I need to be honest about the prognosis. There's a high probability of permanent impairment. She may never regain the fine motor control needed for her design work." His tone carried an unmistakable subtext: This is on you.

The implication hit me hard. Freya's designs—her entire livelihood, her passion—all depended on the fine motor control of her dominant hand.

"Do whatever it takes," I ordered. "Spare no expense."

Miles nodded, the hostility in his eyes softening slightly but still clearly present. Before returning to Freya's room to deliver the news, he added in a low voice, "She shouldn't have gone through this again, Alpha. She suffered enough in prison. If you truly care for her, you should have ensured her safety instead of letting her get caught between you and Kaelin."

When I re-entered the room a few minutes later, the atmosphere was heavy with Freya's silent distress. Miles had just finished explaining her condition and treatment plan.

"The prognosis?" I asked directly.

Miles hesitated, glancing at Freya before answering. "Uncertain at this time. We'll need to monitor her closely over the next few days."

I nodded once, then turned to Emma. "Ms. White, I'd like a moment alone with Freya."

Emma looked to Freya questioningly. After receiving a small nod, she reluctantly left the room, followed by Miles and the medical staff.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. Freya looked small and vulnerable in the hospital bed, her wrists and ankles wrapped in bandages, her right hand immobilized in a specialized brace.

"Silver Shackle Prison," I finally said, keeping my voice low and controlled. "The 'special treatments' you mentioned. They involved silver exposure to your hands, didn't they?"

Freya looked away. "Why does it matter now?"

"It matters," I insisted, moving closer to her bed, "because I'm beginning to see a pattern. One that I should have recognized sooner."

She looked up at me, surprise evident in her eyes. "What pattern?"

"The Brooks family," I said grimly. "Edward Brooks oversees all prison operations. The same Edward Brooks who testified against your family three years ago. The same Edward Brooks who is Kaelin's father."

Freya's heart raced, the monitor beside her bed betraying her reaction. "You think what I suffered in prison has something to do with them?"

"I think," I said carefully, "that there's more to this story than I've been told. And I intend to find out what it is."

Before she could respond, the monitors suddenly began beeping frantically. Freya's face drained of color, her breathing becoming shallow and rapid. She slumped back against the pillows, her eyes rolling back.

"Freya!" I lunged forward, hitting the emergency call button. Within seconds, the room filled with medical staff, with Miles pushing past me to check her vitals.

"Her pulse is racing," he reported, hooking up additional monitoring equipment. "Possible silver toxicity reaction. Get me a blood panel stat, and prepare the purging protocol!"

I was pushed aside as nurses moved with practiced efficiency, following Miles's orders. "What's happening?" I demanded.

Miles glanced up briefly. "Silver absorption into the bloodstream," he explained tersely. "It can happen hours after exposure, especially with Riley bloodline. Their bodies absorb silver more readily than other werewolves."

I watched helplessly as they inserted an IV, administering medications to counteract the silver poisoning. Freya's body convulsed once, then went still.

"Is she..." I couldn't finish the question.

"She's stable," Miles assured me. "The medication is working. But she needs rest now, Alpha. No visitors, no stress."

I backed toward the door reluctantly, only to find Emma rushing in, her face pale with panic.

"I heard the alarms," she said breathlessly. "Is she—"

"Silver toxicity," I explained shortly. "They're treating her now."

Emma's eyes narrowed accusingly. "This wouldn't have happened if you'd protected her properly," she hissed, low enough that only my Alpha hearing could catch it.

I ignored her accusation, turning instead to Miles. "Keep me updated on her condition. Every hour."

In the hallway, Mark was waiting with news about Kaelin. "Stable," he reported. "The blindness is temporary, as expected. Dr. Maloy says her syndrome flare-up should subside within 48 hours."

I nodded, my mind already planning next steps. "I want a full investigation into Derek's connections to the Brooks family," I said quietly. "And pull all records of Freya's time at Silver Shackle Prison—especially any 'treatments' authorized by Edward Brooks."

"You suspect Brooks was involved in this kidnapping?" Mark asked, carefully neutral.

"I suspect there's a great deal about the Riley case that I wasn't told," I replied, my voice hardening. "And I intend to find out why."

The elevator doors opened, revealing Martha hurrying toward us, her face lined with worry. "Alpha Thorne," she said breathlessly. "I came as soon as I heard. How is she?"

"Being treated for silver toxicity," I answered. "The doctors are with her now."

Martha's hand flew to her mouth. "Silver toxicity? But that's... with her bloodline, that's extremely dangerous."

I raised an eyebrow at her specific knowledge. "You know about the Riley bloodline's reaction to silver?"

Martha hesitated before nodding. "I served the Riley family for decades, Alpha. Their sensitivity to silver is well-known among those who worked closely with them. It's why Freya's mother never wore silver jewelry, despite it being fashionable."

Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. If the Brooks family knew about this sensitivity, and Edward Brooks had authorized silver "treatments" specifically for Freya...

"Martha," I said carefully, "I need you to tell me everything you know about the relationship between the Brooks and Riley families—particularly before Freya's exile."

Martha's eyes widened with understanding. "There's... history there," she admitted. "But perhaps we should discuss this somewhere more private?"

I gestured toward an empty consultation room, glancing back at Freya's room one last time. For the first time in my life as Alpha, I was beginning to question whether justice had truly been served.