Possessed Wolfless: From Rejected to Vengeful Lycans' Queen-Chapter 10: The Red Mist

The moment Renar landed on the rooftop helipad at Terenian Hospital, the medical team was already on standby.

They rushed the woman with a dagger still lodged in her stomach straight to the operating room, where the automatic CT scan immediately began assessing her wound.

Renar followed closely behind, giving a brief explanation to the surgeon and poison specialist.

"Look, the dagger's tip has torn the womb tissue. It's not deep enough to damage the womb, but just enough to spread the poison." one surgeon pointed at the CT scan results on the screen.

"The fetus's heartbeat is weakening too. Looks like she'll lose it," the CT scan technician added.

"I've run her blood. This poison's effect is severe but not fatal to her vital organs. For now, it's still concentrated in her womb. We could administer the antidote, but it'll damage the baby for sure and numb her nerves temporarily," the poison specialist explained, showing Renar the results.

"Hmm," Renar muttered, glancing at the blood test results.

"I suspect this assassination was designed to ensure she lost the baby without losing her life, leaving her in a vegetative state," the general surgeon added.

Renar clenched his jaw, the medical team in the observation room awaiting his decision. The cruel decision to let go of the unborn child.

If he could, he would use his healing powers to save her and the baby, but against poison, he was powerless.

There was no cure for silver poisoning except the antidote, and its effects were something no werewolf ever wished to endure.

Even for a lycan, a wound from a poisoned silver dagger was fatal, taking weeks to heal. But she was wolfless—her healing was far weaker than a normal werewolf's, and this felt like a death sentence.

"Usually, the fetus could be saved if she had a wolf inside to protect it, but in her condition..." The obstetrician trailed off, unable to put the grim reality into words.

Renar watched her through the glass window. Just moments ago, she had followed him with stubborn insistence, determined to pay off her nonsensical debt.

His fist clenched, fighting the urge to let his pity sink deeper. He wanted to believe that, if she woke, she would understand—and be strong enough to face the cruel truth.

"Do your best to save her," Renar said sombrely, patting the general surgeon's shoulder before turning to leave. "Even if we can't save the baby, she has no other choice, does she?"

"We can't! We need the guardian's consent," one of the medical team interrupted, yanking off the intercom. "I just got her identity from the data scan, and... she's Lethia Ashcroft from the Obsidian Pack in the countryside. You know how it works with the countryside packs—"

"If I say we can, then yes, we can!" Renar cut him off sharply. "I'll be her guardian and take full responsibility. All of you just need to save her!"

Renar left the observation room and made his way to his office. He knew all too well how sensitive countryside packs were about the capital meddling in their affairs.

But considering the way she'd escaped that abduction and how deliberate the stabbing had been, it was clear this Lethia woman had serious trouble with her pack.

Dragging a hand through his hair, he exhaled sharply, as if trying to scrub away the headache creeping in.

Why the hell did he have to get tangled in this mess tonight of all nights?

And, his reaction to Lethia's scent in the car earlier still lingered in his mind. That only deepened his curiosity—one that demanded to be answered soon enough.

The surgery began, with the medical team focused solely on saving the woman, doing their best not to dwell on her identity.

Terenian was owned by the Tuffin family, and Renar Tuffin was one of the directors. He was also one of the highest-earning and most skilled doctors, so no one dared question his commands.

This hospital was the most renowned in Ashenhold, upholding equality for both humans and werewolves, just as its motto claimed.

After all, in Ashenhold, all beings were treated as equals, and the capital city had very little social disparity. Safe to say, it was a city where wealth thrived under the guise of equality.

Just as the surgeon pulled the dagger from Lethia's stomach, blood splattered, and her vitals plummeted.

Her pulse weakened, as did the fetus's, both faltering from the heavy blood loss. The team worked desperately to stop the bleeding, but her condition remained unstable.

At that perilous moment, a massive thunderclap shattered the sky, as if the heavens had opened their gates for something ominous.

Suddenly, the air in the hospital turned icy, a creeping chill seeping into the walls.

Unseen by mortal eyes, mists of countless colours swirled through the corridors, drawn toward Lethia's operating room.

The spirit realm within the hospital erupted into chaos. Her blood carried a scent that bewildered them—intoxicating, addictive, like fine wine laced with thick honey.

"This wolfless smell nice. I want her!" The blue mist, the first to reach the operating room, lunged toward the doors.

But before it could slip through, a thick red mist surged forward, blocking its path and shoving the blue mist back with force.

"Then I'll be the one to claim her!" The yellow mist tried to push through, but its efforts were in vain.

"What a peasant! You guys better just go, or I'll kick your ass straight to hell. She is mine! Ha...Ha...Ha!"

The red mist's laughter rippled through the spirit realm in the hospital, its voice a rich, sultry tremor laced with dominance. The other mists faltered, reluctant to draw any closer.

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Some stubborn mists refused to back down, trying their luck to push through the red mist's blockade.

The struggle lasted for a while, a chaotic whirlpool of swirling mists creating bursts of color like a fractured rainbow.

One by one, the weaker mists were flung away or vanished, leaving the commanding red mist as the sole victor.

The red mist slipped into the surgery room, hovering above Lethia's unconscious body.

It swirled in slow, deliberate circles before finally revealing its true form—a red fox with three tails, its body wreathed in red flames that flickered like a shadowy fire.

It paced around, its burning gaze sweeping over the chaos in the surgery room.

Then, with a graceful leap, it landed on the operating table.

The fox sniffed around Lethia's body near the open wound, where the female surgeon was fighting to control the bleeding.

It was worse than she had anticipated—the womb was torn deeper than expected, and the fetus's heartbeat was undetectable.

"Hmmm... this scent is so divine," the fox mused aloud, its voice laced with intrigue.

It sniffed the air, a flicker of pleasure crossing its cunning expression. "Why do her blood and pheromones smell so intoxicating, not like usual wolfless?" Its ember-like eyes gleamed with eerie excitement.

"Hm... Pregnant?" The fox clicked its tongue, tilting its head. "Oh... dead? Oh dear... the smell comes from the fetus. Hmmm..."

A playful giggle from its lips that no one could hear, disturbingly out of place against the tense atmosphere of the operating room.

The nurses scrambled, hastily replacing blood bags as the bleeding refused to slow.

The fox's sultry gaze roamed over Lethia's body. "Hmm... not bad. Good figure, decent face... and I do like that hair color. Might be worth the effort." A smirk curled its fiery lips.

Without another word, its form dissolved back into red mist, twisting into a spiraling vortex before plunging straight into Lethia's open wound.

The moment it disappeared inside her, the bleeding slowed. Her vitals stabilized. The entire medical team froze, stunned by the impossible turn of events.

Then, just as the obstetrician prepared to operate on the womb to remove the lifeless fetus, the anesthesiologist suddenly shouted, his voice cutting through the heavy silence.

"Wait—stop! The fetus... its heartbeat—it's back!"