Gilded Heart

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Giant, ebony-haired wolf, pale wolf skull over its face, red eyes. Red eyes. The color of blood. Blood eyes. Blood eyes.

"Ameerah," called the faint, distant voice of someone familiar, someone she knew. 

Blood eyes. Blood eyes. The eyes of the beast.

"Ameerah? Ameerah!"

Her eyes shot open, and she darted upward, looking around at her surroundings. Her breathing was ragged for a moment as her heartbeat erratically pounded against her ribcage.

"Ameerah, it's alright, you're safe," called that same familiar voice. Atlas. She looked up at him, blinking slowly and taking deep breaths to calm herself. "Do you remember what happened?" She shook her head, although she did remember the blood-red eyes. "You were helping me with a patient with Wolfsdane," he began. "Sir Godfrey."

Faintly, the memories came back. She remembered coming to the infirmary, helping Atlas with the batch of medication, and then she remembered helping the patient, Godfrey. "Is he alright?" she asked, remembering the wolf spirit she saw and how she had placed her hand on his forehead but nothing more after that. 

He let out an exasperated chuckle. "My dear, he is more than alright. I don't know how you did it, but you cured him. There is no trace of Wolfsdane left within his system, though we have still kept him in the infirmary to monitor him some more, but...he has been incapacitated for many months now. It was such a relief to see him awake and talking and moving."

It was then that she realized that she, too, was in the infirmary still, specifically in one of the beds. "What happened after that?"

He cleared his throat. "Well, shortly after, you collapsed. I'm sure you must've used a great deal of your powers in order to heal Godfrey---in whatever way you did---and you fainted."

Not from healing Godfrey, from the sight of those red eyes. "Who was the person..." she began, furrowing her brow at the memory, unsure if it was a real person or a figment of her own imagination. "With the red eyes?"

He looked at her, bewildered for a short moment, but his bewilderment quickly turned to amusement as a warm smile stretched over his features. "That was our King. His majesty Sirius Helldane," he said. "And the patient you saved was His Majesty Godfrey Helldane, his younger brother."

It surely had to be coincidence. She assured herself. There could be no possible way the Beast from her dreams, that was the source of her nightmares, was the King of all Werewolves, the one who granted Atlas the permission to even allow me here, the one who could decide if I lived or died. 

"Please, don't tell the Kingdom the truth."

His attention snapped to her, his brows furrowing. "My dear, you saved Royal blood. Even a Hybrid cannot be frowned upon for that," he said.

"It is best if the Kingdom does not know about me. Centuries of hatred cannot be forgiven because of one life saved. Even if it was Royal blood," she explained, growing more accustomed to just how much prejudice and hatred still lingered. 

"As much as I hate to admit such a thing, but you have a point. I am sure; however, the King has already thought of such things," he said. "Rest assured, there is nothing more you need to worry about."

She nodded slowly at him, swinging her legs off the bed and sitting on the edge, sighing heavily. 

Atlas stood, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Do not push yourself, my dear," he said calmly, his expression etched with worry. "There is no rush to get up and go anywhere. I already decided to give you the rest of the day off, so, please, lie back if you are still unwell."