Why Would You Put Poison In His Incense?

Clara's POV

Night fell, and the manor grew quiet.

After my bath, I changed into a beautiful nightgown and returned to the bedroom. The room was dim, the firelight from the hearth flickering across Kyle's face in unsteady waves.

He lay in bed, forehead slick with sweat, his body trembling faintly. I crossed to him and sat on the edge of the mattress. Through our Mate Mindlink, I could feel with perfect clarity the tremendous pain he was enduring—a sensation like countless steel needles stabbing relentlessly through his bones. Cold sweat had already soaked through his pillow.

"Kyle." I spoke softly, reaching out to touch his forehead. His skin was alarmingly hot.

He opened his eyes, the deep gray irises threaded with red, and looked at me. His voice came out rough with pain. "Clara... don't touch me. I'm burning up. I'll hurt you. Go sleep in the guest room."

"I'm your wife. I'm not leaving." I met his gaze, feeling a dense, spreading ache in my chest.

I pulled back the covers and lay down beside him, unfastening the buttons of my nightgown and pressing my bare skin against his chest. My skin was cool, and when it made contact with his burning body, he let out a low sigh.

I closed my eyes and concentrated, drawing on the Moon's Healing power within me. Warm energy radiated from my body like heated water, flowing into him through the places where our skin touched.

Kyle's body shuddered violently, then his strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me tighter against him. He buried his face in the curve of my neck, breathing in my scent in deep, hungry pulls. My Omega scent carried the fragrance of moongrass—the most effective sedative for his wolf.

"Thank you... I feel so much better..." he murmured, his voice gradually relaxing.

I held him close, my hands moving gently across his back, continuously channeling healing power into him.

Skin to skin, we felt each other's heartbeats. The silver poisoning in his system, under my suppression, finally began to settle.

As his pain receded, however, the atmosphere in the room shifted into something different.

Kyle's breathing grew heavy again, but this time with desire for me. His large hand moved across my waist, his palm hot as fire, making my whole body go weak.

I lifted my head to look into his eyes. In the faint firelight, his gaze was filled entirely with possessive hunger.

"That night I was drugged and out of my mind, but now I'm completely aware." I looked at his scarred but still handsome face, feeling not fear but an inexplicable flutter in my chest.

I wanted to help him, to make him happy, to make him need me more and more.

"Clara..." he said quietly, his voice strained with restraint. "Are you sure you want to continue? I don't want to force you."

Instead of answering, I propped myself up and straddled his thighs. He steadied me at the waist, a flicker of surprise crossing his features, as if he hadn't expected me to be so forward.

"I'm doing this willingly, Kyle. I like you." I held his gaze and leaned down, kissing him on the mouth.

That kiss ignited all his passion. He tightened his grip around my waist and pulled me hard against him. Our clothing was torn away in the scramble and discarded on the floor.

In my fully conscious state, I took the lead. I could feel his body trembling, his cock standing rigid—the tremor of barely restrained excitement. When he finally entered me completely, I couldn't help arching my head back and releasing a satisfied moan.

Though he sat there unable to flip me beneath him the way a normal Alpha could, he used both arms to grip my hips firmly, thrusting upward in rhythm with my movements—each stroke deep and forceful.

My body took on this man's scent, a pleasant cedarwood fragrance that intoxicated me.

We clung to each other in the darkness, our fluids running down where we were joined and spreading a small stain across the sheets.

"You're mine, Clara," he whispered in my ear, his voice hoarse and rough with animal possessiveness.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, rising and falling on top of him, matching his fervor...

Morning came, sunlight streaming through the window into the room. Last night's intensity had left my body somewhat sore, but looking at Kyle sleeping peacefully beside me filled me with a sense of calm.

I gently lifted his arm from where it rested across my waist, slipped out of bed, washed up quickly, and headed to the medicinal preparation room.

The silver poisoning in Kyle's system required daily suppression with freshly prepared remedies. As his wife, I had to personally oversee all his medications.

On the workbench sat a newly delivered box of calming incense—part of Kyle's daily therapeutic routine, brought every morning by his dedicated healer, Lina. Normally, this incense would be burned while Kyle rested, to soothe his damaged nerves.

I approached and opened the wooden box out of habit. Lina was a senior healer in the pack who had cared for Kyle for three years. By all rights, I should trust her.

But I was born with an extraordinary sensitivity to scents, and having inherited my mother's Moon's Healing power, I possessed an instinctive rejection of harmful impurities.

I leaned down and brought my nose close to the dark red incense paste.

Beneath the familiar fragrance of moongrass and cedar, hidden at the very bottom of the scent profile, was an extremely faint, rust-tinged sweetness.

My heart skipped a beat. This scent was documented in detail in my mother's notes—it was the signature of a silver poisoning derivative.

This toxin was insidious. It wouldn't kill someone immediately, but with prolonged inhalation, the poison would seep through the respiratory system and slowly penetrate the spinal cord, completely corroding a werewolf's nerves.

For Kyle, paralyzed from the waist down and attempting recovery, this was catastrophic. If he inhaled it for just three more months, his nerves would be irreversibly destroyed—he would never walk again.

My hands began to shake.

Someone had been poisoning Kyle for three years. No wonder his legs had never improved.

I forced myself to calm down, found a clean glass vial, scraped all the incense paste into it, sealed the cap tightly, and locked it inside my personal medicine case.

Then I spoke to the guard stationed in the hallway. "Go fetch Lina and bring her here. Tell her I have questions about the medications."

A few minutes later, Lina entered. When she saw my cold expression and the empty wooden box on the table, the corner of her eye twitched slightly.

"Clara, you wanted to see me?"

I got straight to the point. "This calming incense—did you prepare it yourself?"

"Yes, I made it according to the usual formula, specifically for Mr. Kyle. Is something wrong?" Lina's response was perfectly calm, her voice betraying nothing.

"There's a silver poisoning derivative in it." I stared at her, my tone icy. "Lina, you've cared for Kyle for three years. You should know his condition better than anyone. Why would you put poison in his incense?"