Natalia was stunned by the question. The pain was so intense she couldn't even turn her head; her hand was bleeding.

To examine Adrian's concern, she slowly raised her hand. The scar, suddenly visible after years of concealment, caught her off guard. Why had it reappeared? Had something happened to her body? She didn't want to discuss it; she didn't want to revisit the past. She had never regretted it, but this incident only intensified her unhappiness. After all these years, she still didn't want to talk about it, to think about it again.

“I—I was attacked by rogues and w—woke up with no memory of it.”

“Whe—”

A car horn interrupted Adrian. He turned to see Patric arrive. Behind his car, there was…

Patric leaped from his car, realizing the road accident.

“What the hell!” he exclaimed, seeing Natalia's condition.

Adrian wasted no time. He rushed to Patric's car, holding Natalia close as he sat in the backseat. Patric closed the back door as they entered.

Natalia lifted her trembling hand.

“M—My driver.”

Patric understood. He nodded reassuringly. “They're helping him. Don't worry.”

Within minutes, paramedics had extracted the unconscious driver.

“He's alive, still breathing,” Patric told Natalia, settling into the driver's seat.

A heavy feeling in her head caused Natalia to close her eyes. Adrian, confused, gently stroked the scar on her hand. He thought, She said rogues attacked her. When? After leaving my pack? I never saw this scar when she was with me. Many questions flooded his mind. He would ask later.

Patric pulled up outside the pack hospital. Doctor Harold and other medical professionals were waiting, having been informed beforehand. Adrian carefully lifted Natalia from the car.

Doctor Harold was shocked by the blood on Natalia's head and hand. The hospital staff suggested…

Adrian laid her down and let them attend to Natalia. He waited outside the operating room while Doctor Harold explained she needed stitches on her head.

“Adrian, you’re strong, you don't feel pain, but glass shards can infect your skin,” Beta Patric said.

Adrian looked down; he was bleeding from both hands— injuries from the broken car window. He'd injured his right arm and left palm trying to stop Natalia's car. His shirt was covered in her blood, but its black color concealed it.

He breathed deeply. He'd never felt such fear.

Patric, noticing Adrian's unconcern about his wounds, directed a passing nurse to treat him. The nurse, nervous around the Alpha, led him to a treatment room. Patric insisted Adrian get his hand bandaged.

Half an hour later, Doctor Harold emerged.

“She’s lucky her injuries aren’t worse. A head injury, but I estimate a week's recovery from the stitches.”

Adrian peeked into the operating room. “Is she okay?”

Harold was surprised by Adrian's concern; he'd never seen this side of him before.

“Yes, she’s fine. She lost blood, but the head wounds didn’t affect her memory. She’s fortunate.”

Patric discreetly observed.

“Thank you, Doctor Harold,” Patric said, knowing Adrian wouldn't have expressed gratitude himself.

“When will she wake up?” Adrian asked.

“Her stitches are fresh; we want her unconscious. A few hours, I think. You can see her tomorrow; she’ll be under observation.”

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