Chapter 133

The old woman had been watching Sloane the entire time. When she’d first collapsed, the ER team hadn’t known what to do. Her heartbeat was stuttering, her breath shallow, she’d thought that was the end. Until Sloane rushed in, calm as moonlight, hands steady as she pushed a series of silver diagnostic pins into pressure points around the chest. With every pinpoint adjustment, Elara’s lungs eased. Her vision cleared. The girl had worked with the precision of someone who’d been born for crisis. Yes, she thought now as she studied her from the gurney, this one has sharp eyes. A steady gut. A spine. A girl good enough to stand near her nephew, the cold, unreachable Dominic Volkov. The boy who had lost interest in women long ago… whose past trauma had made him shut the world out. She’d worried he’d spend the rest of his life alone with nothing but his wolf, his temper, and a pile of meditation books. But now? Things had changed. For the better. She forced herself upright. Sloane immediately