Sarah POV
The first man dies at 8:47 PM.
His name is Thomas and he's been coming to Sarah's clinic since she was sixteen years old with a twisted ankle. Now he's lying on her treatment table and his body is shutting down. Sarah knows it's happening. She can feel it. His heartbeat gets slower. His breathing gets weaker. And then it just stops.
She keeps trying anyway. She pushes on his chest. She tries to get his heart to start again. She tries to save him. But Thomas is already gone and she knows it.
Marcus holds Thomas's body while Sarah steps back. She doesn't let herself cry. Crying is a waste of time right now. People are still alive. People still need her.
More patients keep coming through the clinic door. Some are conscious. Some aren't. Some are throwing up. Some are having seizures. Some are just lying there not moving at all. The poison is in their blood and it's burning them from the inside out.
Sarah works without stopping. She mixes antidotes. She monitors vital signs. She moves between beds making decisions about who needs her most. The young ones get priority because they have more years ahead. That's not fair but it's the only choice she has.
By midnight, two more people are dead.
The old woman named Ruth who used to bring Sarah fresh bread every week. The teenager named David who wanted to be a fighter like his father. Gone. Both of them. And Sarah couldn't stop it.
She sits on the edge of an empty bed for exactly thirty seconds. She lets herself feel the weight of it. The failure. The helplessness. Then she stands back up because sitting down is a luxury she can't afford.
There are still twenty-three people sick in her clinic. There are still people fighting to stay alive. There are still people who need her to be smart enough and fast enough and strong enough to save them.
Sarah goes back to work.
The night blurs together. Hours become meaningless. She knows it's past midnight because the darkness outside stays dark. She knows it's getting closer to morning because she's starting to hallucinate from exhaustion. But she keeps moving. Her body is running on pure adrenaline and the desperate need to fix something today.
One of the patients, a warrior named Sam, is getting better. His fever is coming down. His heartbeat is steadier. Sarah sits beside him and realizes she might actually save this one. The feeling is so strong and so good that she almost breaks down. She almost lets herself cry with relief.
But then another patient crashes and she's running again.
The clinic smells like blood and sickness. The walls are covered with her notes about symptoms and treatments. The floors are soaked with sweat and other things she doesn't want to think about. This place used to be calm. This place used to be a safe space where animals got healed and people got better.
Now it's a war zone and Sarah is losing the battle.
Around 3 AM, Marcus falls asleep standing up. Sarah catches him before he falls and tells him to go rest. Marcus argues that he needs to stay. Sarah tells him that he's no good to anybody if he passes out. Marcus finally nods and heads to the back room. Sarah hears him collapse into a chair and fall asleep instantly.
She's alone with the sick now.
Sarah moves through the clinic checking on everyone. Most are sleeping, their bodies too exhausted to stay awake. Some are still awake and watching her with scared eyes. A little girl named Emma reaches out her hand and asks Sarah if she's going to die.
Sarah takes her hand and tells her no. She tells her that Sarah is going to fix this. She tells her that Emma is going to be okay. Sarah doesn't know if any of that is true but she says it anyway because Emma needs to hear it.
The girl falls back asleep holding Sarah's hand.
Around 4 AM, Sarah realizes something. Most of these people were at the ceremony celebration. Most of them were eating the same feast. Most of them were drinking from the same water pitchers. This wasn't random. This wasn't an accident.
Something specific was poisoned.
Sarah moves to her supply room and starts pulling bottles and records. She needs to know what poison this is. She needs to understand the toxin to treat it properly. She's been working on instinct and basic knowledge but she needs actual facts.
She starts testing the blood samples she took from the patients. She compares the results to her poison reference guides. Wolf poison comes in different types. Nightshade poison. Wolfsbane. There are others. Each one works differently. Each one needs different treatment.
The results start coming back and Sarah's blood goes cold.
This isn't a common poison. This isn't something somebody would just have lying around. This is something specific. Something calculated. Something that someone made on purpose and used on purpose to hurt the pack.
Sarah's hands start shaking.
This wasn't an accident. This was intentional. Someone poisoned the pack's feast on purpose. Someone wanted people to get sick. Someone wanted people to die.
But why.
Sarah sits in the middle of her supply room surrounded by bottles and tools and she tries to make sense of it. Who would do this. Who would want to hurt the pack. Who would want to hurt people on the day of the Alpha's mating ceremony.
She hears footsteps coming down the hallway.
Mason walks into her clinic like his world is falling apart. He looks around at the sick people and the dead bodies and at Sarah covered in blood and sweat. His face goes dark. He asks what happened. His voice sounds hollow.
Sarah tells him that people were poisoned. Sarah tells him that she's treating them but she doesn't know enough yet. Sarah tells him that she needs more time to figure out the toxin. She tells him that she's doing everything she can.
Mason listens without saying anything. Then he just nods like he already expected bad news. He tells her to figure it out. He tells her to find out what poison was used. He tells her to save who she can save.
Then he leaves.
Sarah goes back to her work. She tests more samples. She compares more results. She stays awake and stays focused and stays determined to figure this out before more people die.
By the time the sun comes up, Sarah has narrowed down the poison to three possibilities. She needs to run more tests. She needs more time. She needs to understand the exact formula so she can develop a better treatment.
She's looking through her reference books when she finds it.
A note in the margin of an old poison encyclopedia. A handwriting note from years ago. It describes a specific poison combination. A formula. A way to make it. A warning about how dangerous it is.
Sarah recognizes the handwriting immediately.
It's her own.
Her heart stops.
She knows she didn't write that. She knows she would never study something like this. She knows she didn't create that formula. But her handwriting is right there in the margin. Her signature is right there claiming knowledge of this poison.
Sarah flips through more pages looking for other notes. Other handwriting. But they're all hers. Every single note about poison looks like it came from her.
Sarah drops the book like it's burning her.
Someone has been using her handwriting. Someone has been making it look like she studied poisons. Someone has been setting her up to look dangerous and knowledgeable about toxins.
But who.
And more importantly, if someone has her handwriting on poison notes, what else have they written in her name.
Sarah runs to her supply shelves and starts pulling out bottles. She's looking for something specific. Something that shouldn't be there. Something that will prove what she's starting to believe.
She moves bottles. She checks behind things. She searches deeper.
And then she sees it.
A bottle sitting on the back shelf. A bottle with her clinic label on it. A bottle filled with the exact poison that's killing her pack right now.
A bottle with her name written on it in her own handwriting.
Sarah's legs give out and she collapses onto the floor.
Someone set her up. Someone poisoned the pack and made it look like she did it. Someone made her the scapegoat for a crime she didn't commit.
And in a few hours, when Mason finds out about this bottle, he's going to believe it.
He's going to think his mate poisoned his pack.
He's going to think Sarah is dangerous.
And no matter what she says, no matter what she tries to prove, nobody will ever believe her.