Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother - Chapter 113
113: Chapter 113 113: Chapter 113 Damien’s POV
The world tilted.
Those eyes.
Even swollen shut, even surrounded by bruises and cuts that made my stomach lurch, I knew those eyes.
The elegant arch of her brows.
The small scar on her left temple from when she’d fallen off her bike as a child.
*Sera.*
My hands went slack around her throat.
She dropped back to the ground with a soft thud that seemed to echo like thunder in the sudden silence.
“No.” The word came out strangled.
Broken.
“No, no, no.
This isn’t-this can’t be-”
I fell to my knees beside her, my hands hovering over her battered face.
Afraid to touch.
Afraid that if I did, she’d disappear like some cruel hallucination my desperate mind had conjured.
But she was real.
The soft whisper of her breath.
The familiar curve of her lips, split and swollen but still *hers*.
The way her hair curled at the ends, even matted with blood and filth.
“Sera?” I whispered, my voice cracking like I was fourteen again.
“Baby, is that you?”
Her only response was another barely audible murmur.
“Adrian…
where’s Adrian…”
The sound of her voice-hoarse, broken, but definitely *hers*-hit me like a physical blow.
My chest seized.
My lungs forgot how to work.
Lucas appeared at my shoulder, his face pale with shock.
“Alpha, that’s not…
that can’t be…”
“It’s her.” The words came out flat.
Final.
I reached out with trembling hands to touch her face.
Her skin was ice cold, waxy with fever.
Dark circles shadowed her closed eyes.
Her lips were cracked and bleeding.
How had I not known?
How had I looked at her-at *Sera*-and seen nothing but a rogue?
Because she didn’t smell like herself.
The realization hit me like a sledgehammer.
Where her scent should have been-that unique blend of jasmine and rain that was pure Sera-there was nothing.
Just the harsh chemical burn of wolfsbane and the lingering stench of death.
“What did they do to you?” I breathed, my fingers tracing the air above a particularly nasty cut on her cheek.
“Oh god, baby, what did they do?”
More importantly-why couldn’t I sense Ayla?
Every wolf had a distinct presence, a spiritual fingerprint that marked them as clearly as any physical scent.
But when I reached out with my enhanced senses, searching for Sera’s wolf…
Nothing.
Just empty, terrifying silence where Ayla should have been.
“It seems like the wolfsbane,” Lucas said quietly, following my train of thought.
“They poisoned her.
That’s why we couldn’t scent her properly.”
Red clouded my vision.
Pure, incandescent rage that made my bones ache with the need to shift.
To hunt.
To tear apart whoever had done this to my mate with my bare hands.
“Find them,” I growled, my voice dropping to a register that made every wolf within hearing distance flatten their ears.
“Find every last piece of shit who laid a finger on her, and bring me their heads.”
“Yes, Alpha.”
But revenge could wait.
Right now, she needed medical attention.
Needed safety.
Needed me to get my shit together and take care of her instead of standing here drowning in fury.
I slid my arms beneath her, lifting her against my chest as gently as I could manage.
She was so light.
Too light.
Nothing but skin and bones wrapped in torn rags that used to be clothes.
Her head lolled back over my arm, exposing the purple finger-shaped bruises around her throat.
“Adrian…” she mumbled again, her brow furrowing with distress even in unconsciousness.
“Damien…”
“He’s safe,” I whispered against her matted hair.
“He’s home.
He’s waiting for you.”
God, Adrian.
My little boy had been asking for his mama every day.
Crying himself to sleep because she wasn’t there to read him bedtime stories.
How was I going to explain this to him?
How was I going to look at my son and tell him that his mother-
*No.* I shut down that line of thinking before it could take root.
She was alive.
Breathing.
Whatever they’d done to her, whatever poison they’d pumped into her system, we’d find a way to fix it.
We had to.
“Get the car,” I barked at the nearest soldier.
“NOW!”
The man jumped like I’d hit him with a cattle prod, sprinting toward the parked vehicles.
Lucas fell into step beside me as I carried Sera toward the road, his expression grim.
“The hospital?” he asked.
“Dr.
Morgan first,” I replied, my jaw tight.
“She needs someone who understands wolf physiology.
Someone who knows how to counteract wolfsbane poisoning.”
The jeep screeched to a halt beside us, engine still running.
I climbed into the back seat, settling Sera across my lap as carefully as I could.
Her breathing was shallow, irregular.
Her skin felt like parchment under my hands.
“Drive,” I ordered the soldier behind the wheel.
“Fast as you can without killing us.”
“Dr.
Morgan?” Lucas spoke into the phone.
“We’ve got an emergency.
Alpha’s mate.
Severe wolfsbane exposure with complete wolf suppression.
ETA ten minutes.”
I couldn’t hear her response, but Lucas nodded grimly.
“Understood.
We’ll be there.”
Sera stirred in my arms, her eyelids fluttering.
For a moment, hope flared in my chest.
Maybe she was waking up.
Maybe-
“No,” she whimpered, her voice barely audible over the engine noise.
“Please don’t…
not me…”
She was dreaming.
Or having flashbacks.
Reliving whatever hell they’d put her through.
“Shh,” I murmured, pressing my lips to her forehead.
“You’re safe now.
No one’s going to hurt either of you.
I promise.”
What kind of mate was I?
What kind of alpha?
The hospital came into view, its white walls gleaming in the afternoon sun.
Dr.
Morgan was already waiting outside the emergency entrance with a gurney and two nurses, her silver hair tied back in a no-nonsense bun.
The jeep hadn’t even fully stopped before I was out, Sera still cradled in my arms.
“Examination room three,” Dr.
Morgan ordered, falling into step beside me as we rushed through the automatic doors.
“How long has she been like this?”
“I don’t know,” I replied through gritted teeth.
“She’s been missing for three days, but I just found her twenty minutes ago.”
“Any idea what kind of wolfsbane they used?”
“No idea.”
I laid Sera down on the examination table as gently as I could, her small body looking even more fragile against the stark white sheets.
Dr.
Morgan immediately began her assessment, checking vitals, examining injuries, drawing blood samples with practiced efficiency.
“Multiple contusions, possible broken ribs, severe dehydration,” she murmured, more to herself than to me.
“Signs of strangulation.
Fresh and old injuries suggesting prolonged abuse.”
Each word was another blow.
Another piece of evidence that while I’d been searching for her, she’d been suffering.
Fighting.
Surviving hell.
“Will she be okay?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.
Dr.
Morgan met my eyes, her expression carefully neutral.
“I won’t lie to you, Damien.
This is the worst case of wolfsbane poisoning I’ve ever seen.
The fact that she’s still alive is miraculous.”