Contract With The Alpha King
Chapter 104

Chapter 104

"Are you sure you already informed him that I will come back?" Fiona asked for the umpteenth time, looking at the man in a cloak.

"I sent the message the moment you walked through the door."

Fiona pursed her lips. She knew she couldn't trust him, but currently, she didn't have any choice. All the can do now was heal the Rogue King and get out of this place..

She sighed, brushing her fingers across the Rogue King's chest. His skin was cool to the touch, but as soon as her palm rested over the glowing tattoos, a sharp, stinging sensation pricked her fingertips, like a thousand tiny needles pressing into her flesh. She winced, but didn't pull away. Instead, she closed her eyes and focused.

The poison wasn't just a substance-it was alive, weaving through his essence like an invasive parasite. Fiona felt it resisting her, lashing out as her power pushed against its hold. She concentrated harder, her breathing steady, her energy pouring into the task. Slowly, she visualized the poison being drawn out, piece by piece, dissolving under her will

Time became meaningless. The sharp sting evolved into a dull ache in her chest, but she didn't falter. Every thread of poison she unraveled. revealed another, deeper layer. It was intricate, designed to linger and root itself into every fiber of his being. Her hands trembled as she workeil, sweat trickling down her temples.

Finally, the sharp resistance dulled. Fiona opened her eyes slowly, her vision blurred by exhaustion. The Rogue King's chest rose and fell with

fell with steady breaths now, the faint glow of the tattoos dimming to a soft shimmer. She stepped back, barely able to keep herself upright.

The hooded man appeared at her side, holding out a towel. "Take this," he said simply, his gaze fixed on her. She accepted it, pressing it to her face to wipe away the sweat. Her hands trembled slightly as she finished and let the towel fall to her side. "How long was I doing that?" she asked.

11

The man gestured toward a candle that had burned halfway down. "Tour hours," he said, his tone laced with a faint trace of surprise. "I didn't expect the process to take this long."

Fiona nodded faintly, her breath uneven. "Different poisons work in different ways. This one was layered, each part designed to protect the con removed the most potent parts to stabilize him. Sadly, removing all of them could do more damage than good. All we can do now is wait for hi recover on his own

As if on cue, the Rogue King let out a faint moan, his body shifting slightly on the bed. Fiona straightened, her attention snapping back to him. His brows furrowed as if he were in pain, and his fingers twitched against the dark velvet.

The hooded man raised his hand, snapping his fingers. A glass of water matenalized on the nightstand beside the bed. He waved it forward, and the glass hovered just above the Rogue King's lips.

Fiona stepped back, watching intently as the Rogue King's eyes fluttered open. They were a deep, piercing brown, sharp even in their haze of pain. He blinked slowly, his gaze adjusting to the light before his eyes settled on her. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then his fingers curled slightly, as if testing his strength.

"He's awake," Fiona said sofily, glancing at the hooded man,

The Rogue King's lips parted slightly as if to speak, but the words didn't come. The man in the hood stepped closer, taking the glass from the air and placing it into the Rogue King's hand. "Drink," he said simply.

The Rogue King obeyed, his movements sluggish as he lifted the glass to his lips and took small sips. Fiona stayed back, observing him carefully. Though his condition had improved, his strength was still far from restored. She noted the slight tremor in his hand as he held the glass and the way his chest rose and fell with effort

When he finished, he set the glass back down and leaned his head back against the pillow, his eyes closing briefly. Then, slowly, he looked at Fiona again.

"I can smell the Rosenthal in you," the Rogue King rasped, his voice rough and strained, a testament to his prolonged unconsciousness. His piercing gaze shifted to the hooded man. "Don't tell me you dragged someone out of the hole they were hiding in?" Romero's gaze shifted sharply to Fiona, his piercing brown eyes narrowing slightly as he processed her presence. Before he could respond to the hooded man, Fiona stepped forward.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, her expression neutral as her eyes scanned his features for a

rany signs of discomfort or lingering symptoms.

Romero blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her abrupt question. Before he could answer, Fiona continued as if addressing an ordinary patient. "You should avoid exerting yourself for now. Your body is still recovering from the poison, and any strain could undo what I've just done. If you feel dizzy or lose consciousness again, that would not be surprising, considering the toll the poison has taken on you

1/2

Chapter 104

Her gaze flicked briefly to the glass on the nightstand. "Hydrate regularly, and if you feel sharp pains or weakness in your limbs, tell someone immediately."

The room was silent for a moment, Romero's lips parted slightly, but he said nothing as he studied her. The hooded man tilted his head, his posture shifting slightly as though to better observe Fiona. The air in the room grew heavier.

Romero leaned back against the pillows, his lips curving faintly into what might have been amusement-or irritation. "You speak to me as though I'm one of your villagers," he said finally, his movements sluggish but deliberate. "Do you know who you're addressing?" Fiona met his gaze without flinching, her arms still crossed. "I know exactly who I'm addressing" she said, her voice steady. "The Rogue King. And if you value your recovery, you'll listen to my advice. You're not above the limits of your own body." Romero's expression darkened slightly, though his eyes held a spark of intrigue. He glanced at the hooded man, who remained silent, watching the exchange with an air of quiet amusement.

"You're bold for a healer, Romero said, his words measured as he rested his head back against the pillow, "Rosenthal or not."

Fiona didn't respond to the implied challenge in his tone. Instead, she stepped back, her gaze shifting briefly to the hooded man. "He's stable for now. The poison isn't gone entirely, but I've removed enough to give his body the chance to recover. He'll need rest, lots of it. Starting from today. only he can help himself." Fiona said nothing more. What these people had failed to consider was the fact that she was a Rosenthal. She could heal. She could kill. And she could do both at the same time.

She looked at the hooded man. "My presence is not needed anymore. Take me home." That wasn't a request. It was an order.