Claire gently supported Addison, guiding her step by step as she limped away in pain. From the outside, it looked like Claire was on the verge of tears—her expression contorted with concern, as if she were the one injured. But Addison knew better.
She tried to shake Claire off, attempting to pry her arm free, but Claire held on tightly, her grip like iron wrapped in velvet. Despite Addison's efforts, she couldn't break free from the woman pretending to be her savior.
Then, in a soft voice dripping with faux sympathy, Claire added, "Let's head downstairs and have the pack doctor take care of your wounds. I heard you're… wolfless, right? So they won't heal on their own. You'll need proper treatment even for something this minor."
Her words, though lightly spoken, hit their mark.
To someone else, it might have sounded like random musing born out of worry—but Addison could hear the quiet cruelty woven beneath them. The implication was clear: she was weak, incomplete, a burden.
