Page 44

WHITLOCK brOTHERS

T he journey to the hospital felt endless, even with Archer breaking every traffic law in New Vale.

Luca lay cradled in Zane’s lap in the back of the car, his skin burning hotter with each passing minute.

The glow beneath his skin pulsed like captured moonlight, making the leather seats shimmer with reflected light.

“His temperature’s still climbing,” Zane growled, pressing his cheek to Luca’s forehead. In the confined space of the car, his scent was devastating—moonlight and cherry blossoms twisted with something desperate and primal that made their wolves pace restlessly. “Faster, Archer.”

Ryker’s lightning sparked across the dashboard as he made calls, his usual calm shattered.

“Dr. Xu is assembling a team. Aunt Senna and Great Uncle Johnathan are right behind us with the twins.” He glanced in the side mirror at the sleek black car following them, his storm-blue eyes reflecting the crackling energy of his power. “The private wing is being prepared.”

Through their pack bond, their wolves’ agitation fed off each other. The need to protect, to fix this, to make their little bat safe again, was overwhelming. Zane’s frost crept across the windows while Archer’s hands gripped the steering wheel hard enough to leave impressions.

He’s so small, Archer’s thought echoed through their bond, his usual playfulness replaced by raw fear. Has he always been this small?

Luca whimpered in Zane’s arms, his head turning restlessly against his chest. The sound made all three brothers flinch, their wolves howling in shared distress.

The Whitlock Memorial Hospital rose before them, a gleaming tower of glass and steel.

Unlike the public entrance with its steady stream of supernatural patients, the private wing had its own discreet access point—a dedicated entrance reserved for New Vale’s elite families.

Archer pulled up to the hidden doorway, where Dr. Xu already waited with a floating stretcher and a full medical team.

“How long has he been unconscious?” Dr. Xu asked as they rushed through pristine corridors. Despite her petite frame, the ancient dragon shifter’s presence commanded respect. Centuries of experience showed in her efficient movements as she directed her team.

“Benedict found him this morning,” Zane answered, his voice tight as nurses carefully transferred Luca to the stretcher. His wolf snarled at the loss of contact. “The fever’s been climbing steadily since then.”

The private wing of Whitlock Memorial put most luxury hotels to shame.

Soft lighting, elegant artwork, and plush furnishings couldn’t hide its cutting-edge medical equipment, but they helped maintain the illusion of comfort.

The observation room they were directed to had comfortable seating and a clear view of Luca’s treatment room through enchanted glass.

Aunt Senna arrived moments later with Great Uncle Johnathan and the twins. Hunter’s usual tech-savvy confidence was nowhere to be seen as he gripped his sister’s hand. Sylvie’s eyes were red-rimmed, her other hand clutching Aunt Senna’s sleeve.

“Any change?” Aunt Senna asked, moving to stand beside Zane at the window. Her usual warm presence was tight with worry.

Through the glass, they watched as various machines were attached to Luca. Each one seemed to react strangely to his presence—readings fluctuating wildly, screens flickering with interference. His skin pulsed like captured moonlight, making the medical equipment cast dancing shadows on the walls.

“His core temperature is impossible,” Dr. Xu muttered, frowning at a display. “Even for a vampire…” She turned to her team. “Where is Dr. Stevens?”

The vampire specialist arrived moments later, his ancient features grave as he examined Luca. More tests followed—blood work, energy readings, magical assessments. Each result seemed to confuse the doctors more, their professional masks slipping as hours passed without answers.

“Look at his skin,” Sylvie whispered, pressing closer to the glass. “It’s like he swallowed starlight.”

Hunter pulled up something on his phone. “I can’t find anything in the supernatural medical databases about symptoms like this. Not even in the restricted archives.”

The pack bond thrummed with shared anxiety.

Ryker’s lightning had graduated from occasional sparks to a constant crackle along the walls.

Archer paced like his wolf, leaving impressions in the floor where he stepped.

Zane stood immobile at the window, his frost no longer just creeping but spreading across the glass despite the room’s warming charms.

After what felt like endless hours of tests and rising tension, Dr. Xu approached them. Her usual confident demeanor had been replaced by something more hesitant. Behind her, Dr. Stevens studied a tablet showing Luca’s readings, his features creased with confusion.

“We’ve managed to stabilize his temperature somewhat,” Dr. Xu began, choosing her words carefully.

“But…” She glanced at Great Uncle Johnathan, as if seeking guidance.

“This isn’t like anything we’ve seen before.

It’s not pathological, not an infection.

His body isn’t fighting anything—it’s more like… ”

“Like what?” Archer demanded, halting his restless pacing.

Dr. Stevens looked up from his tablet. “Like he’s transforming. But into what, we don’t know. All our usual treatments are just…” He gestured helplessly at the machines, half of which had stopped working entirely. “Sliding off him. Like his body knows what it needs, and it’s not this.”

Through the observation window, Luca’s skin blazed brighter than ever, like he’d swallowed pure starlight.

One by one, the monitors went dark as his power overwhelmed them, until only a single screen remained functioning—stubbornly displaying his climbing temperature.

All three brothers pressed closer to the glass, their wolves surging forward with protective urgency.

Zane’s frost had covered half the observation room, Ryker’s lightning now arced continuously between walls, and Archer’s hands left deep dents in the window frame.

Aunt Senna pressed closer to Great Uncle Johnathan, her usual warm presence tight with fear. “There must be something?—”

“The Blackthorns,” Great Uncle Johnathan interrupted, his eyes fixed on Luca. Everyone turned to him. “They’re the oldest vampire clan in New Vale. If anyone would recognize this…”

“Sebastian,” Zane breathed, already pulling out his phone. His wolf surged forward at the prospect of help, of answers, of anything that might save their little bat.

The head of the Blackthorn Clan answered on the first ring, despite it being a Sunday. “Zane? This is unexpected.”

“Sebastian.” Zane’s voice was tight with barely controlled fear. Through their pack bond, his brothers felt the effort it took for him to maintain his alpha composure. “I need a favor. It’s Luca.”

“What’s happened?”

“He’s…” Zane watched through the glass as another wave of light pulsed beneath Luca’s skin. “Something’s wrong. Fever, unconscious, his skin is glowing. None of our doctors know what it is.”

“I’ll bring our clan’s medical archives and grimoires,” Sebastian said. “And I’ll notify Lord Richard and Lady Helena. They’ve spent centuries studying ancient bloodlines.” He paused. “Twenty minutes.”

“Your clan’s archivists?” Zane caught the significance. The Blackthorn Clan’s private researchers rarely emerged from their libraries of ancient tomes.

“If this is what the elders hinted at…” Sebastian’s voice held a mix of concern and scholarly interest. “My uncle and aunt have been theorizing about such manifestations for centuries. They’ll want to see this firsthand.”

Great Uncle Johnathan was already nodding. “I’ve alerted Lady Wei Cheng—she mentioned something about similar signs in the dragon clan’s ancient texts. The other elders are standing by.”

The pack bond thrummed with renewed anxiety. The involvement of the Blackthorn archivists and Council Elders meant this was beyond even their worst fears. These were beings who had spent millennia studying supernatural bloodlines and ancient prophecies.

“Bring whatever you think might help,” Zane said, watching another wave of light pulse beneath Luca’s skin. “And Sebastian? Hurry.”

Through the observation window, Luca’s fever seemed to climb even higher, his skin now glowing like captured moonlight. The remaining functional monitors beeped with increasing urgency while the brothers waited, their wolves growing more agitated with each passing minute.

Hunter looked up from his tablet where he’d been researching supernatural medical conditions. “The Blackthorn archivists?” he whispered to Sylvie. “They never leave their libraries.”

“That’s not helping, Hunter,” Sylvie muttered, though she squeezed her twin’s hand tighter.

Aunt Senna moved closer to Great Uncle Johnathan. “Should we call Lady Victoria too? The Lionheart records might?—”

“Already done,” he assured her. “The elders are gathering. Whatever this is…” He trailed off, watching another wave of light shimmer beneath Luca’s skin. “They’ll want to witness it themselves.”

Hold on, little bat, Zane thought, his frost spreading despite the room’s warming charms. The oldest and wisest are coming. Just hold on.

Sebastian Blackthorn arrived exactly one hour later, his presence announced by the subtle darkening of shadows in the corridor.

He wasn’t alone. Lord Richard Blackthorn Sr. and Lady Helena Blackthorn followed, their ancient power making the hospital’s modern equipment flicker.

Both carried thick leather-bound tomes that seemed to pulse with their own dark energy.

Behind them came two younger vampires laden with scrolls and grimoires—clan archivists, their pale faces showing both excitement and trepidation at being outside their libraries.

“Where is he?” Sebastian asked without preamble, his aristocratic features tight with concern.