Aurora held his gaze, keeping her expression calm even though her mind was already moving ahead.
Then she realized something.
"…You want me to cure you," she said, "right now?"
The man, Alpha Asher, didn't answer. He actually didn't need to as the expectation was written all over his face.
Aurora stared at him for a long second before she asked, "Are you out of your mind?"
The words slipped out before she could stop them, making him narrow his eyes.
She exhaled and pinched the bridge of her nose briefly before looking back at him.
"I don't have the required herbs," she said, forcing her tone to return to its usual composed state. "This treatment isn't instantaneous. It will take time to neutralize the poison and stabilize your system."
"How long."
It wasn't a question.
She didn't hesitate and answered, "A month."
She was met with a heavy, almost dangerous silence. And she noticed how his gaze turned colder.
And then he spoke, "I'll give you five days."
Aurora's expression didn't change as she put out her chubby hand, flexing all four fingers and her thumb. "No! I need a month."
"Five days," he repeated.
"One month."
"Five."
She stared at him, and he stared back. The cave seemed to shrink under the pressure of their standoff.
"Your body is already compensating," she said evenly. "The poison is slow-acting. That gives us time... but not miracles."
"Five days."
Aurora's eye twitched, though barely noticeable. "Do you want to live," she asked calmly, "or do you want to die efficiently?"
There was a pause before he spoke, "Five days."
She inhaled slowly, and exhaled even slower. "You are not listening."
"You are talking too much."
She pressed her lips into a thin line. Her patience, though substantial, was not infinite.
"Fine," she said. "Then listen carefully. Poison treatment requires identification, extraction, stabilization, and recovery. Even with optimal conditions, it-"
"Five days."
She went silent for a moment and then muttered, "Unbelievable." Folding her arms, she tried again, "One month."
"Five days."
"One month."
"Five."
"Thirty days."
"Five."
Aurora stared at him for a long, hard minute as she calculated. Then, she offered again, "Three weeks."
"Five days."
She inhaled again. At this point, her pulse was starting to respond - not with fear, but with irritation. "You are negotiating like a child."
"And you are stalling."
Her gaze sharpened as she clarified, "I am being realistic."
"You are being slow."
Another beat of silence passed between them as tension crackled in the air. Aurora tried to think of a way to negotiate with him when he suddenly spoke-
"Two weeks."
The words were short, sharp, and final.
She studied him - his posture, his eyes, the set of his jaw. She could tell he was at the very edge of his patience. And if she pushed any further, the negotiation would end... violently.
She exhaled softly before replying, "Two weeks it is then."
The tension didn't disappear. But it shifted slightly as the agreement settled between them.
The Alpha held her gaze for a moment longer before he rose to his feet fully. His movements seemed fluid despite the lingering effects of the drug.
"You have until then," he said and Aurora nodded once. "And you will not leave."
Once again, it wasn't a question.
Aurora tilted her head slightly and asked dryly, "With this body, where exactly do you think I'm going to go?"
There was a faint pause before he spoke, "Don't test it." His words were simple and cold, also final.
He then turned toward the cave entrance and added, "I'll return in the morning, and I want you to be ready by then."
Aurora said nothing.
"And if you try to run..." He stopped just short of the exit, his voice dropping slightly, "...there is nowhere in this world you can hide from me."
It was a statement, not a threat, which only made it worse.
She gave a small nod. "Noted."
He didn't respond, didn't look back. He just simply stepped out and disappeared into the night.
Silence filled the cave.
Aurora stood there for a moment before she let out a slow exhale. "One problem managed."
Though it wasn't solved, at least she had managed it for now.
Her shoulders relaxed just slightly, and she finally allowed herself to take in a proper, deep breath... only to immediately regret it as the smell hit her like a physical force.
She froze and then turned her head slowly, looking around the cave only to instantly wish she hadn't.
The cave was a disaster. No. That was actually too kind - it was a biohazard.
Rotting scraps of meat were scattered across the ground, some so old they had become unidentifiable. Half-chewed, half-decayed fruits littered the corners. Torn animal skins lay in damp piles, stained with dirt and things Aurora refused to analyze too closely.
The air was thick, stale, and unpleasant. While the floor looked uneven, dusty, and clearly neglected for… a very long time.
She stood there with a blank expression.
"…Of course."
She glanced down at herself, then back at the cave, noticing just how consistent the original owner of her body was in her life.
For a brief moment, she considered her options. Her original plan was to have a bathe, but now it looked like she had to clean the place if she didn't want to suffocate in her own living space.
Unfortunately, there was nothing inside the cave she could use. No tools, no containers, no structure. Nothing.
Aurora exhaled quietly and reminded herself this was a primitive world.
She then made her way toward the entrance of the cave and pushed aside the thick vines covering its mouth, stepping outside.
She paused as fresh, cool, and clean air welcomed her. It filled her lungs like something she had forgotten existed.
She stood still for a second longer than necessary, abd then looked up only to find two bright and luminous moons hanging in the night sky like twin sentinels, casting a soft silver glow over the land.
The forest stretched endlessly around her - lush, alive, and untouched. The cave was surrounded with trees, bushes, and weeds.
For a fleeting moment, she simply observed, registered, and stored the information.
Then, she returned her focus to the important matter at hand and scanned her surroundings.
She walked up to a nearby tree and twisted a long, sturdy branch free. Next she gathered thinner, flexible twigs and a cluster of broad, durable leaves, and began assembling them with precise, practiced movements.
She bound the the twigs together at one end, layered long leaves for density, and lastly wrapped vines tightly to hold everything in place.
It didn't look elegant or perfect, but functional.
She straightened, holding the makeshift tool in her hand and examined it once, and then nodded in approval.
"Good enough."
Turning back toward the cave, she pushed aside the vines again and stepped inside.
The smell hit her again. But she didn't react this time. Instead, she lifted the makeshift broom and got to work.