Chapter 1 Hands That Heal

• The scent of sterility mixed with a faint aroma of pine needles lingered in the air. The pristine white walls of the medical wing seemed almost too clean. Amelia Cole removed her gloves, tossing them into the disposal bin, and exhaled. The wounded warrior lying on the table was already asleep under the effects of painkillers. The surgery had been a success. A severe muscle tear, a deep gash from a silver blade, and the threat of permanent immobility—all of it was now in the past.
• Amelia Cole was a twenty-year-old woman raised in the Red Moon pack by Alpha Brad Cole and his Luna, Mira. Though not related by blood, Amelia had become an inseparable part of both the family and the pack from an early age. She grew up among werewolves, absorbing their strength, confidence, and resilience—yet she preserved her softness, compassion, and humanity.
• Amelia had long, light chestnut hair cascading in waves over her shoulders and expressive brown eyes filled with both kindness and inner strength. Her delicate appearance masked a will of steel. She was slender and graceful, walking with a light, quick step—a reflection of the balance between strength and elegance.
• Since childhood, Amelia had dreamed of helping others. She dedicated herself to medicine and became a talented surgeon. Her care for others was genuine, and each patient was more than just a body to her—they were a story worth fighting for.
• “You saved someone again, Amelia,” came a familiar voice behind her.
• She turned and smiled. Standing in the doorway was Gregory, the middle of her three brothers. His thick black hair was tousled, and his shirt was stained with dirt and blood.
• “Need me to stitch that scratch too?” she asked teasingly, nodding at the cut on his cheek.
• “This? It’s nothing. The important thing is Kyle can move again. You worked overtime again?”
• Amelia wiped her forehead and nodded.
• “Yes. But I don’t mind. I... love it. I like knowing that my hands can make a difference. I may not be a wolf, but I’m useful.”
• Gregory walked over and hugged her.
• “You’re not just useful. You’re irreplaceable. To the entire pack.”
• Those words always warmed her heart. She hadn’t been born into this pack—she was human. But the Cole family had never made her feel that way. Brad and Mira, the Alpha and Luna of the Red Moon pack, had taken her in and raised her as their own. Anthony, Gregory, and Steven were her brothers not by blood, but by heart.
• The Cole family home was located in the very center of Red Moon territory—surrounded by forests, hidden from outsiders. Amelia walked into the kitchen, where Mira was already preparing breakfast, despite the late hour.
• Mira Cole—the Luna of Red Moon—was a woman with regal posture and warm eyes that held wisdom and quiet strength. Her long chestnut hair was usually styled into a simple but elegant updo that highlighted her noble features.
• “Mom, you know I can do this myself,” Amelia said, kissing her cheek and starting to help.
• Mira smiled gently.
• “I just worry. You haven’t slept in nearly a day.”
• “The patient was on the edge. I couldn’t leave him.”
• At that moment, Steven—the youngest, always cheerful and loud—burst into the room and swept Amelia into a tight hug.
• “Our heroine! Saved someone again, huh?”
• “I only did what I could,” she snorted, but smiled nonetheless.
• Then Brad entered—tall, broad-shouldered, with silver streaks in his hair and the heavy gaze of an Alpha.
• “Darling, kids, we need to talk. There’s news,” he said seriously.
• Everyone fell silent immediately. Brad approached the table and laid out several scrolls.
• “This morning, we received an invitation from the Lycan court. King Damien Virellian is summoning representatives of all allied packs for a ball in honor of the end of the Eastern war.”
• Amelia frowned. She had heard of Damien. A king who lost his mate. Cold. Ruthless. A true warrior. Rumor had it no one dared to meet his eyes. Why would he host a ball?
• “Do we have to go?” she asked.
• “Yes,” Brad said firmly. “Your brothers and I will definitely go. And you…,” he paused, looking at her, “I’d like you to come too. You don’t have to, but—”
• “I’ll go,” Amelia interrupted. “It sounds interesting.”
• Mira looked at her with concern.
• “The Lycan court isn’t a safe place. Especially for a human girl, even if you were raised among us.”
• “I’m not weak, Mom,” Amelia replied calmly. “I can handle it.”
• “That’s almost insulting, Mom. We’ll always be there and will definitely look after our sister,” said Anthony, Brad and Mira’s eldest son and one of the most respected warriors in the Red Moon pack.
• Deep down, even Amelia didn’t fully understand why she agreed so quickly. Maybe she just wanted to escape routine, to see more of the world. Or maybe… something was drawing her there.
• Late at night, lying in bed, Amelia turned over a pendant in her hands—the only thing left from her real parents. She didn’t know who they were. Brad had found her in the forest, wounded and frightened, and brought her home. He hadn’t hesitated to take in a human. He had given her a chance.
• “I wonder what I’ll find at the palace,” she whispered into the dark. “Or who…”
• Her fingers tightened around the pendant.