Third Person's POV Kian was led to the annex, understanding clearly that Magnus had forbidden anyone else from entering. Leaving the others outside, he stepped in alone, carrying his medkit like a lone sentinel. Inside, the stench of blood and the sight of animal carcasses made even the towering Alpha's spine shiver. The Shadowbone estate's women were lethal-this much was obvious. Ignoring the bloodstained photographs that littered the walls, Kian followed the flickering light up the stairs, immediately spotting a room with its door ajar. "Hey... Magnus still alive in here?" he called, his usually brash tone abruptly cut off as he glimpsed the carnage within. The next second, the door slammed shut with a heavy thud. "Damn it! Jackson tricked me!" Kian muttered, clawing at his hair in frustration in the dim corridor. Of course-he realized-the scene he had just glimpsed was meant to make him the unwitting disruptor of the pair's heat, the intruder into their intimate world. Some men never learn, even when injured. Best left on the wall, he thought grimly. Sensing their savior approaching, Aysel stirred, mind snapping awake. She scrambled, propping herself against Magnus' broad chest, and with a surge of urgency, swung the door open. "Dr. Kian!" Her voice rang out, relief sharp as the scent of a hunter finding safety. Kian cleared his throat, shedding his earlier frustration, the storm of the "irritated old wolf" giving way to measured professionalism. "Uh... Miss Vale," he began, gesturing to the medkit, "may I... come in and take a look?" He did not doubt Magnus' resilience. The Shadowbane Alpha could contain his fury, control the surge of his wolf, even bleed himself without succumbing to frenzy. But medicine should be administered early-better safe than sorry. Aysel nodded, moving aside. "Go ahead." She flicked on the lights, revealing the room more clearly. Magnus now sat on the edge of the bed, his face calm, the raw predator of moments ago tempered into unreadable steel. Kian smirked at the Alpha's displeased glare, accustomed to such displays, while Aysel's brow furrowed, worry etching her features. "Looks normal enough... Anna didn't buy fake medicine, did she?" Kian's voice carried teasing amusement.Magnus' piercing gaze swept over him, cold and commanding. Aysel flinched slightly. "Will it... harm him?" Kian raised his hands in surrender. "I'm joking. It's real medicine." But even he noted internally-real medicine, real consequence. He bit his cheek, rearranged his focus, and said firmly: "Doesn't matter. One injection, and it's done." Abroad, he had administered similar doses countless times; poison, bloodletting, wound care-all like eating a meal. His mastery of toxins and antidotes was unparalleled. Only someone as innocent and trusting as Aysel could feel worried for a moment. Kian's needle moved fast, precise, sparing Magnus nothing. Once done, Aysel was escorted back to her room to rest before dinner. Magnus stayed nearby, perhaps wary of leaving her alone after the night's chaos. Using his bloodied, marked hands-arms still bearing the evidence of his controlled rage-he took a towel, gently brushing her damp hair. His voice, low and steady, held the strength of a protector. "I have some matters to handle. You rest now," he murmured. Aysel, sitting on the sofa, eyes following him, hesitated. "Are you dealing with Anna? I can come with you." Magnus paused. She was no fragile Omega, but some truths were too brutal, too unworthy of her eyes. The pack's darkness, the remnants of treachery-they were not hers to witness. Aysel seemed to sense this, releasing his hand. "Alright. You go ahead. I'll wait." Magnus' thumb brushed her flushed cheek, warmed from her bath, a rare moment of tenderness amid his Alpha dominance. "Rest well," he whispered, leaning down to brush his lips against hers. "When you wake, we'll go home."