Page 114 of The Alpha's Bullied Rejected Mate

“You mean… we caught the wrong witch?” one of the hunters who had gone with Marcus on the mission questioned, horrified, and Athena nodded in response.

They caught the wrong witch. Again.

The truth hit Marcus like ice. And they wouldn’t have figured it out if not for Athena.

His thoughts were interrupted as Athena attempted to stand up. However, her body betrayed her as she fell heavily against him, her knees giving in.

Marcus caught her just in time, wrapping his arms around her in a protective hold as her head fell limply onto his shoulder.

His chest tightened.

“Athena,” he called. She wasn’t responding.

“Athena,” he whispered, more desperate this time. Still nothing.

But immediately, Marcus lifted her into his arms. His heart pounded violently against his ribs as he turned and took off, sprinting across the field.

“I’ll call for a healer!” one of the witches shouted behind him. She was burning up, and her breath had turned shallow.

His quarters weren’t far away. But right now, it felt like miles away. Like the world had stretched just to test his speed… or his hope.

Please. Please. Stay with me.

Marcus arrived at his cabin, bursting the door of his room open as he rushed inside, kicking it shut behind him.

He crossed to the bed in swift strides and carefully laid Athena down, tucking her shivering body beneath the thickest blankets he could find.

Her lashes fluttered weakly… but her eyes stayed shut.

Panic shot through him, but he pushed it down.

He quickly went to close the windows, keeping out the chill wind. He dumped logs in the fireplace and lit it, fanning the flames attentively until warmth permeated the room, along with a flickering golden light.

His hands worked well, but inside, he was a mess.

Finally, the doors opened and the healer bustled in, quickly taking off her thick cloak and draping it behind a chair before searching its pockets for her tools.

Marcus didn’t care that he sounded desperate. “Please, check her,” he begged the older witch.

The healer stood over Athena, her fingers pulsing faintly with magic. She sat beside the bed to begin her examination.

It was only a few minutes, but time seemed to drag on achingly slower for Marcus until the healer finished and offered him a smile.

“She’ll be alright,” she began. “She is just exhausted. The magic she released during the battle took a heavy toll on her, and her body is still recovering from it. I’ve cast a warming spell to bring down the fever. Let her rest for a few hours, and she’ll be fine, sir.”

Marcus felt like he could finally breathe. A weight lifted from his chest, and he pressed his fingers to his forehead in quiet relief.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

The healer gave him a gentle nod, then slipped out without another word, grabbing her cloak as she went and closing the door softly behind her.

Marcus stood there for a few moments, just watching Athena breathe as though he was scared she would suddenly stop.

She is going to be fine. He mentally repeated the words to himself.

She had to be.

He returned to her side and sank onto the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. His eyes drifted to her face; her features were soft in sleep, yet slack with exhaustion.