Alpha’s Regret: My Rejected Mate Is A Healer novel Chapter 26

Maxwell

The night was still as Maxwell stood in the shadows, preparing for his journey beyond the boundaries of Devil’s City. The air was thick with the scent of impending rain, but he moved with an unbreakable focus. Valen’s words still echoed in his mind: Confirm the healer wolf’s existence. Find the truth.

For centuries, Maxwell had been Valen’s trusted scout and enforcer. Tonight, however, his mission felt charged with greater purpose. The rumors surrounding a healer wolf were impossible to ignore, even if they seemed as improbable as any he’d heard. Valen’s previous purge of healer wolves had been merciless, leaving none to spare, or so they’d believed. But if one had truly survived, this could reshape everything they understood about their species-and reignite old wars.

Maxwell slung his gear across his back and blended into the night, his steps soundless as he made his way through the outskirts of the city. His senses were sharp, taking in the hum of life beyond the walls. He would need every ounce of stealth as he ventured close to werewolf territory, relying on a careful plan to go unnoticed. His orders were clear: observe, confirm, and report back. Any action beyond that would need Valen’s approval.

The night was hushed around Maxwell as he moved through the pine forests, each step light and deliberate, a master of the shadows. Valen’s command was clear: confirm the healer wolf. But Maxwell couldn’t shake the doubt echoing in his mind. All healers were supposed to be gone, he thought, his grip tightening on his cloak. The memory of the last war-the bloodshed, the fires, and the promise of revenge for Valen’s lost mate-played like a dark refrain in his mind.

But if one healer wolf had truly survived, that would mean they had overlooked a threat. And for vampires, such mistakes came at a cost.

With a flick of his hand, shadows pooled around him, rendering him nearly invisible as he neared the pack’s hospital. Maxwell had abilities that made him an ideal scout: he could slip into shadows, warp perception, and focus his heightened senses to catch even the faintest heartbeat from a mile away. But tonight, his attention was drawn to the only light in the hospital wing -a small room where Ella lay recovering.

Inside, Ella lay still, her eyes half-closed as she rested. From his vantage point, he could see that she looked pale, her cheeks hollow from the aftermath of her injuries. This was no ordinary wound, though; the dormant energy around her signaled that her wolf was silent, leaving her exposed-more human than wolf. Her vulnerability intrigued him.

This can’t be the legendary healer wolf, he thought, his expression darkening. She seems so…ordinary.

The nurse Sara entered Ella’s room with her usual soft-spoken demeanor, her heels silent on the polished floor. Maxwell, watching from a shadowed corner, smirked faintly. Sara had proven to be a valuable asset, her loyalty quietly bought by Valen himself. Through her, he had been able to observe the werewolves’ habits, routines, and weaknesses, all without the pack suspecting a thing.

Sara leaned over Ella’s bed, adjusting the IV line with gentle fingers. “Ella, how are you feeling today?” Sara asked, flashing a warm smile that had long since earned Ella’s trust.

Ella offered a faint smile. “I feel better… but something’s wrong. I can’t feel my wolf.” She glanced down, brows knitted with worry. “It’s like I’m… human.”

Sara tilted her head sympathetically. “That’s understandable, given the severity of your wounds. But rest assured, with time, I’m sure you’ll recover.”

“Hmm,” Ella murmured.

Maxwell’s eyes narrowed as he listened intently, processing each word. So, she’s lost her connection to her wolf, he thought, intrigued. This could make her even more vulnerable-perfect for what I need.

Sara glanced briefly toward the window, where she knew Maxwell would be waiting. “Well, if there’s anything I can do to make your recovery easier, let me know.”

“Thank you, Sara. I feel safer with you around.” Ella’s expression softened as she lay back, closing her eyes. It was one of the few moments of comfort she’d felt in weeks, though her nagging sense of vulnerability remained.

Standing alone in the darkness, Maxwell considered what he’d discovered. If Ella truly was a healer wolf, she was the last of her kind. This shouldn’t be possible. Valen’s purge had been ruthless and thorough; he’d wiped out every known healer wolf after his mate had been killed. Maxwell recalled the devastation, the smoldering ruins left behind, the cries of werewolves mourning their own.

Maxwell brought the vial closer, feeling a surge of energy radiating from the blood within. He took a deep, savoring breath, his heightened senses flooding with an unnatural warmth. The blood carried a faint yet potent aura-an essence he hadn’t encountered in centuries.

The last healer had been powerful, even without the strength of a pack. She had been able to heal herself, her wounds closing faster than they could be inflicted. But ultimately, she fell, leaving the vampires with a chilling victory.

Maxwell’s mind raced with the implication- Ella’s existence could shift the balance of power between vampires and wolves, perhaps even spark another war if Valen deemed it necessary.

Steeling himself, Maxwell moved back into the shadows and prepared to report. He would contact Valen as soon as possible, but this needed to be done with utmost discretion. If there was even a hint of suspicion that a vampire had been near their hospital, it could ruin everything.

Merging with the shadows, he began to head back. His mission was clear, but a new plan began forming in his mind as he recalled the fragile, nearly human girl lying alone in her hospital bed. If she truly was a healer wolf, she might not even know