Vengeance in His Bed

Inside Room 104 of the Upper District Hospital in Freenly City, the only sound was the steady, rhythmic beeping of a life-support monitor. The room was small and filled with white medical equipment, casting a cold light over the patient lying on the bed.

Beron, a low-rank Alpha from the slums, lay completely still beneath a thin white blanket. His head was wrapped tightly in medical bandages, and several clear tubes ran from his arms to the machines that kept him breathing. He had been in a deep coma ever since his motorcycle had swerved violently off the lower-district highway, crashing into a concrete barrier during a sudden storm.

Beside the bed sat his mother, Joyline. Her eyes were red and swollen from hours of crying. She held her son’s limp, cold hand tightly between her own, tears streaming down her lined cheeks.

"Please hold on, my boy," Joyline sobbed, her voice breaking in the quiet room. "You have to be strong for me. The doctors are doing everything they can. Everything will be okay, Beron. Just open your eyes. Please, just come back to your mother."

The mechanical door of the room slid open with a soft click.

Doctor Damian Boren stepped inside. He was a high-ranking Alpha physician, wearing a spotless white lab coat over his blue hospital scrubs. He carried a digital medical tablet in his hand. Damian was a respected doctor who worked in the Upper District Hospital, but he was also well-known for spending a large amount of his free time running a free medical clinic down in the slums, helping the poor laborers who could not afford expensive treatments.

Damian walked over to the bed, his soft footsteps clicking on the clean floorboards. He looked down at Beron’s vitals on the monitor, then turned his gaze to the weeping mother. He placed a gentle, comforting hand on Joyline’s shaking shoulder.

"You need to take it easy, Joyline," Damian said kindly, his voice direct and calm. "Crying like this will only make you sick. Your son’s heart is strong, and his vitals are stable. He will get better soon. You need to stay strong for him so that when he wakes up, you are healthy."

Joyline wiped her nose with a wet tissue, looking up at the handsome doctor with a face full of misery. "How could this happen to him, Doctor Damian? He was always so careful on that motorcycle. He was a good boy."

Damian let out a slow, heavy sigh. He pulled a chair over and sat down across from her. "Joyline, to be completely direct with you, I tried to warn Beron weeks ago. I saw him hanging around the slum market with that girl, Jannah Nenth. I explicitly told him to stay far away from her. I told him that she was cursed and that bad things happen to any Alpha who tries to get close to her. But he was young, and he simply did not listen to my warning."

Joyline’s face immediately twisted into a mask of pure anger and disgust at the mention of the name. She dropped her son’s hand and clenched her fists.

"It was her good looks!" Joyline shouted angrily, her voice full of bitterness. "What else could have led my poor boy to ignore such a warning? If it wasn’t for her face, Beron would have never looked at her. Jannah Nenth bewitched him! She used her beauty to cast a spell on my son and ruin his mind, just like she did to those other Alphas in the past!"

Damian nodded his head slowly, looking at the medical chart on his tablet. "Jannah is indeed a very beautiful girl, Joyline. There is no denying that. But historically, witches are always beautiful. They use their high-level attractiveness as a trap to capture people and draw them into danger before they even realize what is happening."

"Exactly!" Joyline said, her voice shaking with rage. "No wonder that girl is always completely alone in the slums. Everyone is terrified of her. She has no friends, no family left besides that old mad grandfather, and she will die completely alone in a dark corner. Honestly, the elders should just banish her from the slums permanently. She is a danger to our community, especially to our young men."

Damian looked out the small window of the room, thinking deeply for a moment. "Maybe she won’t die alone, Joyline. In this world, the universe usually creates a balance. Perhaps there is someone out there—a specific soulmate—that was uniquely meant for her."

Joyline let out a loud, mocking scoff. "A soulmate? Who could possibly be a match for a girl like that? Maybe a fellow cursed witch just like her, or a demon from the dark forest!"

"Of course," Damian replied simply, his face expressionless. "A cursed man would be the only one who could survive her frequency."

Joyline calmed down slightly, her mind shifting away from her anger as she looked at the kind doctor. She had known Damian for a long time because of his work in the slum clinics, and she had always wondered about his personal life.

"Doctor Damian," Joyline asked, her tone turning curious and concerned. "Can I ask you something personal? Why do you choose to live and work down in the slums so often? You are a brilliant Alpha doctor. You are paid a very good, high salary by this Upper District Hospital. You could live in a beautiful, luxury apartment up here with the wealthy elites. Why stay down there in the dirt? Or... do you perhaps have a secret girl you like down in the slums? It is very concerning to all of us who care about you."

Damian let out a small, quiet laugh. He adjusted the collar of his lab coat, keeping his eyes on the life-support monitor. "Probably there is someone I like down there... or perhaps not, Joyline. I simply prefer the quiet nature of the lower sectors. The upper district can be very exhausting."

Joyline rolled her eyes gently, but then she remembered a piece of gossip she had heard through the neighborhood network just yesterday.

"Speaking of that witch Jannah," Joyline whispered, leaning closer to the doctor. "I heard from the market women that she actually managed to get a job up here in the Upper District. I don’t know what kind of job a dirty slum girl like her could possibly do for wealthy people, but she left the slums a few days ago."

Damian’s pen stopped moving across his tablet. His posture went completely rigid for a split second. He turned his head sharply to look directly into Joyline’s eyes, his voice losing its casual tone.

"Where exactly is she working, Joyline?" Damian demanded directly.

"Oh, it’s a very big scandal," Joyline said, nodding her head quickly. "They say she is currently working inside the private estate of Dorrent Grefo, the multi-billionaire CEO of Gammar Technology Company."

Damian stood up from his chair slowly, his hands sliding deep into his lab coat pockets as his eyes darkened with a sudden, intense focus. He stared down at the floorboards, his mind processing the dangerous connection between the most powerful S-tier Alpha in the city and the cursed omega girl.

"Dorrent Grefo..." Damian murmured under his breath, a cold, unreadable expression settling over his handsome features. "It’s been very long since I’ve seen her."