Chapter 266: Alpha Scratch Post

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Alpha Roman ," Abel grinned at Roman, who stirred from his long sleep. Due to the severity of his condition, he had been sedated to prevent further aggravation.

Right now, he groaned from the infirmary bed, feeling a crick in his tone. He sat up, stretching the affected area.

"I’m guessing I’m at the infirmary," he said, glancing around.

"Yes."

"What time is it?"

"8 p.m." another voice answered, and Roman turned his head to see Adele approaching with a clipboard in hand, and his cardinal brothers standing behind her.

"Oh great," Roman thought inwardly, sure they’d come to mock him and rub salt in his wounds.

"Well, well, well," Griffin was the first to speak, humor lacing his tone. "Isn’t it the famous Alpha Roman? Quite the stunt you pulled today."

"Fuck off," he retorted.

"How can you say that when we came to check up on you?" the big guy teased further.

Roman rubbed his temple. "If you’re here to gloat, save it. I’m already humiliated. You can’t do more damage."

"Oh, sweetheart," Adele spoke up, "this isn’t gloating. It’s a clinical assessment."

Roman stared at the corners of her twitching lips, watching her fight back a laugh, and groaned in annoyance. She was clearly in on this with them.

Great. Fuck his life. Wasn’t he supposed to be the patient here? They should be pampering him, maybe even giving him "get well" kisses—though the mental image of being kissed by his cardinal brothers made him cringe. Instead, they were here to make him feel even worse.

"What went wrong with him?" Asher cut straight to the point.

At least he could count on the West Alpha not to kick him when he was already down. What a friend he had in Asher. Roman was genuinely glad.

Adele flipped the clipboard. "According to the injury report, Patient Roman presented with—" she paused dramatically, "’severe genital discomfort described by him as biting fire, despite no visible rash, boils, hives, or dermatological inflammation indicating infection, fungus, or parasites.’"

"Charming," Alaric remarked, speaking for the first time.

Roman shot him a death glare.

Adele continued. "Skin shows linear abrasions, mild lacerations, and surface bruising consistent with repeated aggressive rubbing against external surfaces...most likely a tree."

Alaric clarified all too accurately: "You humped a tree, Roman. In public."

"I didn’t hump the tree!" Roman growled under the sheet. "I attacked it."

"Your dick was the weapon of choice, apparently," Asher remarked dryly.

Roman felt his heart crack. He’d thought Asher was his ally. So much for that sacred brotherhood.

Adele said to him, "I think you should be grateful it’s only localized swelling from trauma and not a fracture or tear in the penile shaft. Otherwise, the southern pack would’ve been on their knees, praying to the goddess for your ability to sire an heir in the future."

Roman spoke bitterly. "Trust me, that would’ve been nice."

At once, an awkward silence settled over the room, heavy and telling, as if everyone instinctively understood the deeper meaning behind those words.

Abel cleared his throat, addressing Adele. "If there was no infection or skin disease, what caused this? My alpha was in real pain."

"It may interest you to know that cases like these are not exactly as rare as you think. I suspect magical interference or a hex is at work here." Adele slapped the clipboard against his bed with finality. "Roman Draven, in your long line of sexcapades, have you by chance dated a witch?"

Silence reverberated in the room as the implication sank in. Then Griffin and Alaric burst into mocking laughter.

"Oh my god, he’s fucked," Griffin snorted.

Roman’s face flamed bright red. "I never dated any witch! I haven’t slept with anyone outside the academy this semester!" he protested.

Griffin leaned closer, teasing. "Think harder, Roman—maybe you pissed off a girl enough that she hexed your little alpha?" He smiled sweetly. "Or...not so little, judging by the videos floating around campus."

"They’re what?!"

Alaric chimed in this time. "You trended on MoonFeed before dinner. I haven’t seen that many close-ups since the last talent show you hosted. And based on the comments...yeah, let’s just say you’re now called the Alpha Scratch Post."

"Fuck. Me." Roman dropped back onto the bed, horror on his face. There goes his social life. Of all the scandals, he had to put his dick in bad light.

Griffin tried to pat his shoulder, but Roman flinched. Smirking, the big alpha said, "You’ll live. Next time, try not to break a witch’s heart. It’s bad for your ego—and worse for your groin."

Unlike the others, Asher pointed out, "If that’s true, we might have an undocumented witch on campus."

Lunaris Academy wasn’t exclusively home to werewolves and humans. Incidents like what happened to Roman were precisely why every creature needed to be accounted for. If a string of murders ever broke out, the wolves would be the first to take the fall, tarnishing their already fragile reputation. But if those other beings were properly documented, they could be tracked, monitored, and their presence made public knowledge.

Unlike the wolves, witches had never gone to war with humans. But that didn’t mean they felt safe. On the contrary, witches rarely revealed themselves, wary of retaliation. They were good at hiding in plain sight, blending seamlessly into human society and retreating into the safety of their covens.

"So," Asher continued, "I’ll need a list of whoever you’ve hooked up with. We’ll weed out the witch before she causes more trouble."

Roman sighed. "I don’t exactly keep that list in my head."

"We’ll start somewhere," Asher said firmly.

"Fine."

Adele turned back to Roman. "You’ll be staying here overnight. I need to monitor any flare-ups."

Roman’s face fell at once. There would be no sneaking off to Violet’s bed. Tonight was going to be torture.

"Don’t worry," Abel said, as if sensing his disappointment. "I’ll keep you company."

Roman managed a fake smile to cover up the grimace crawling up his face. Great. Just great. All he wanted tonight was Violet Purple, her soft skin, and all. Instead, he was stuck with his beta.

"And here—" Adele handed him a container of numbing salve, "It should help in case the pain flares up again. That means no sexual activity, transformations, or strenuous training until further notice."

"Come on!" Roman cried out. "I have a lot planned on my plate for tomorrow!" And what did she mean no sexual activity when he already had plans for his purple human?

"I guess tomorrow will tell that," Adele said, compromising just a bit.

"Well, since you’re in safe hands, I’m out," Griffin said.

"Me too," Alaric added.

Asher leaned over Roman’s bed. "Guess I won’t have to punish you for trying to fool me. The gods already did."

With a smirk, he turned and left first. At the door, Griffin paused for a final jab. "Do try not to scratch it off before Parents’ Week, hmm? Bad for PR."

With that, he left, dragging Alaric along with him while Roman swore up a storm, their faint laughter echoing just outside the door.