Returns Of God Of Medicine

chapter 2

Jasper stepped forward, placing himself slightly in front of me. His jaw locked tight, a familiar tell. When he spoke, his voice was controlled.

“Mara, that’s enough. He’s my brother. My blood.”

Mara’s gaze snapped to him, cold and cutting. The room seemed to shrink under it.

“He’s an assassin, Jasper. A government weapon. A man who leaves bodies behind. I will not have him under my roof.”

“That’s not who he is,” Jasper shot back. “Soren isn’t like that.” He didn’t look at me when he said it, but I felt the weight of his defense all the same.

Mara let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “You’re blind. Or stupid. He’s a killer, Jasper. A murderer.”

The word hit harder than it should have. I felt my shoulders tense, my hands curling once at my sides before I forced them still.

“He’s staying tonight,” Jasper said, stepping closer to her now. “It’s late.

Where do you expect him to go?”

“I don’t care,” Mara snapped. “I won’t share a roof with a murderer.”

Jasper’s face flushed red, heat rising fast. His hands trembled. He drew in a breath, ready to argue—

“Enough,” Mara cut in sharply. “How dare you bring someone like him into this house?” Her eyes narrowed, cruel and deliberate. “Have you forgotten what you are? A kept man living off my mercy?”

The words landed like a slap.

Silence swallowed the room.

Jasper’s eyes flew wide. Color drained from his face as if Mara had struck him, not with her hand, but with something far crueler.

“Mara…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “How could you say that?”

She didn’t hesitate. Not even a flicker of doubt.

“How could I?” Her laugh was brittle, sharp enough to cut. “How could you, Jasper? You sold yourself for ten million dollars. Ten million.” She stepped closer, her gaze burning. “And now you stand here pretending you still have dignity? Pretending you get a say in this house?” Her lips curled. “You’re nothing but a kept man. Bought and owned.”

Something inside my chest collapsed.

I stood there, frozen, the truth crashing into me all at once. My brother hadn’t just cleared my debt. He’d traded away his freedom for it. For me.

Guilt settled deep, heavy and suffocating.

Mara didn’t wait for a response. She turned sharply and scooped Lyra into her arms. The little girl stirred, cheek pressing sleepily into her mother’s shoulder, unaware of the wreckage around her.

I watched them disappear down the hallway, my jaw tightening.

So that’s it, I thought. He didn’t just save me. He sacrificed himself.

A brother who became a shield. A father who paid the price..

And this was his reward?

The house went quiet after Mara vanished from sight.

Jasper stood alone in the center of the room, shoulders slumped, looking like a man drowning where no one could reach him.

“I’ll talk to her,” he said finally, voice hoarse. He didn’t look at me. “Just… give me a moment.”

He took a step toward the hallway. “Mara, please. Let’s talk—”

She stormed back in before he could finish.

Fury radiated off her. She hurled a bag at his chest. It dropped to the floor with a dull, final thud.

“Leave,” she screamed.

Jasper bent quickly, grabbing the bag, hands shaking as he tried to steady her.

“Mara, calm down—”

“Get out,” she shrieked. “Now.”

The air felt too tight.

Then it happened.

Lyra’s body jerked violently in Mara’s arms.

The change was instant. Terrifying.

Her small frame stiffened, trembling uncontrollably. Her head tipped back, eyes rolling until only white showed. A thin line of blood slipped from her nose, staining Mara’s blouse.

“Lyra!” Mara screamed, clutching her closer. Panic tore through her voice. “Jasper! She—she’s—”

Jasper moved on instinct. He lunged for the cabinet, yanking drawers open, papers and objects scattering across the floor. His breathing came fast, uneven.

“Where is it—where is it—”

His fingers closed around a small glass vial.

The moment he turned, it slipped from his trembling grip.

The vial hit the floor and shattered.

Clear liquid spread uselessly across the tiles.

“No!” Jasper dropped to his knees as if he could gather it back with his hands. “No—no—”

Mara’s scream cut through him. “What did you do?!”

Jasper staggered upright, fumbling for his phone, nearly dropping it as he made the call.

“Yes—yes, it’s my daughter!” he shouted into the receiver. “She’s convulsing and bleeding please, you have to help her!” His voice broke completely. “Where’s the doctor?!”

A voice crackled through the phone. Whatever Jasper heard on the other end hollowed him out in real time.

“What do you mean you can’t send anyone?” His grip tightened, knuckles whitening. “She’s a child,” he snapped, voice breaking sharp and raw. “She’s dying.”

Mara stood rooted to the spot, arms locked tight around Lyra’s seizing body. She didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. Jasper’s voice dropped into something desperate.

“Please,” he begged. “Please… don’t turn her away.”

The line went dead.

Jasper stared at the screen as if it might come back to life out of pity alone. It didn’t.

A sound tore out of his chest and he hurled the phone to the floor. It shattered on impact, plastic and glass skittering across the tiles.

I was already moving.

I dropped to my knees beside Lyra, my hands hovering for half a second before I forced them steady. Her skin had gone ashen, a faint gray cast spreading beneath the surface. A dark vein crawled visibly along her neck, pulsing wrong. Too fast.

Her breaths hitched, uneven, shallow.

Nyx toxin!

The realization slammed into me hard enough to steal my breath.

How?

How did something that lethal end up in a child’s body?

“No… no,” I muttered, shoving the surge of panic down until it burned. Panic was a luxury. Lyra didn’t have time for it.

I looked up sharply. “Jasper. Mara.” My voice cut through the chaos. “I need ice. Now.”

Mara turned on me, eyes wild, wet with terror. She pulled Lyra closer, instinctive, feral. “What do you know about this?” she demanded, as if I were another threat closing in.

“Enough,” I said, softer now, steady on purpose. “Trust me.” I swallowed, already planning three steps ahead. “I need salt water too. Wash your hands with it, both of you.”

Jasper looked at me like the floor had dropped out from under him. “What’s happening, Soren?” His voice shook despite his effort to steady it.

“I don’t know yet,” I said, and hated how honest that sounded. “But I’m praying it isn’t what I think.”

Mara’s fear snapped into fury. “Don’t touch her,” she screamed. “Stay away from my daughter, murderer!”

Jasper reached for her, fingers closing around her wrist. “Mara—please. Let him help—”

She tore free, nails raking his skin. “No! Don’t let him near her!”

Lyra convulsed again, a sharp little jerk that twisted my chest tight.

I didn’t look at Mara. I couldn’t afford to. My world narrowed to the child gasping on the floor. “Jasper,” I barked, “the ice. Now.”

He hesitated—just a second too long.

“Go!” I roared.

That did it. He ran.

Mara watched him disappear into the kitchen, her breathing ragged, her arms locked around Lyra as if she could wield the poison by force alone.

When Jasper came back, he nearly slipped as he skidded to a stop, shoving the ice pack into my hands. I dropped to my knees and pressed two fingers gently against Lyra’s throat. The vein was there—dark, wrong, pulsing beneath fragile skin.

Nyx toxin.

My stomach turned, but my hands didn’t stop moving.

I slid the ice along her neck, slow and deliberate, cooling the swollen vein, then guided her onto her side, angling her airway the way Master Alden had drilled into me years ago. One hand supported her jaw, the other steadied her shoulder as another spasm ripped through her small body.

Mara gasped. “What are you doing?!”

I didn’t answer. I counted Lyra’s breaths instead. Too shallow. Too fast.

Then pain exploded across my face.

The slap snapped my head to the side. Heat bloomed along my cheek.

I turned back slowly, meeting Mara’s eyes. My voice came out low, edged with something dangerous. “Do you want her to die?”

She froze.

“Then stop,” I said. “Or get out of my way.”

Her face collapsed. The fight drained out of her all at once. She staggered back into Jasper’s chest, sobbing, fingers clutching his shirt like it was the only solid thing left in the world.

Jasper wrapped his arms around her, jaw clenched, eyes red.

I took a deep breath, forcing my panic down. “I don’t care if you see me as a murderer, Mara,” I said, my voice low but firm. “This is my niece. I won’t hurt her. If anything happens, I’ll die by her side.”

Mara’s sobs filled the room, but she didn’t interfere. She stayed behind, gripping Lyra against her chest, her body trembling.

I knelt beside Lyra, feeling the heat and weakness radiating from her small frame.

Her veins were dark and swollen beneath gray skin. Nyx toxin. Every second counted.

I pressed the ice pack to her chest to slow the spread. My hands shook slightly, but I forced them steady. I reached for a syringe from my bag, filled it with warm saline—something Master Alden had taught me years ago: controlled blood dilution combined with direct pressure points to flush out venomous compounds.

I carefully inserted the needle into a vein in her arm, steadying her wrist. I applied light, continuous pressure along her arteries while infusing the saline slowly, guiding the circulation. Her body jerked once, violent and uncontrolled, but I held her steady, murmuring to her softly.

Steady, steady… I thought, feeling the tension in my chest ease only slightly.

Then I located the pressure point at her wrist, the one Alden had insisted could accelerate toxin expulsion. I pressed with firm, measured force and massaged her arm along the meridian, feeling the toxin’s grip loosen. I whispered quietly, grounding her, grounding myself.

I took a small vial of activated charcoal powder, mixed with water, another of Alden’s methods for absorbing lethal compounds and carefully poured a teaspoon into Lyra’s mouth. I massaged her throat gently, coaxing her to swallow. Each movement is precise, controlled.

Her spasms slowed. The dark veins began to fade to a lighter, healthier pink.

Jasper and Mara were frozen behind me, wide-eyed, silent witnesses.

“Soren… what… what is that?” Jasper’s voice was raw, disbelief and fear tangled in it.

I didn’t look up. “An old field remedy,” I said, steady, though my heart was hammering. “Something taught to me when nothing else worked.”

Mara stayed silent, her gaze fixed on Lyra, on me, on the fragile thread of life we were holding together.

Lyra’s body convulsed one last time, a deep shudder that ran from her toes to the top of her head. Then her limbs went limp. Her chest stopped rising.

Mara screamed and lunged forward. “She’s dead! You’ve killed her!”