Chapter 376

"Move aside!"

Luna White nearly knocked over the soldiers gathered around the stretcher as she threw herself beside Andrew Smith. Her fingers trembled, but she forced herself to remain calm as she assessed his injuries.

The gash above his brow was horrifying, blood snaking down his temple and staining half his face crimson. Worse still, his breathing grew fainter by the second.

"Doctor, the Captain was thrown over fifteen meters by the blast..." A young soldier's voice cracked. "You have to save him!"

Luna took a deep breath and swiftly unbuttoned his combat uniform. The moment her fingertips brushed his ice-cold skin, her heart plummeted.

"Prepare the acupuncture needles," she said with eerie composure.

"But the Captain needs surgery!" The soldier stamped his foot in frustration. "He needs to stop the bleeding, he needs—"

"Shut up!" Lily Collins yanked him back. "Dr. White is the Captain's fiancée. She knows exactly what she's doing!"

Only then did the soldier notice Luna's ashen face and the slight tremor in her hands. He stepped back, chastened, but his anxious gaze remained fixed on her every move.

The silver needles glinted coldly in the firelight. Holding her breath, Luna inserted the first needle into Andrew's pressure point. In that instant, she felt an unprecedented surge of energy.

Her supernatural ability was spiraling out of control.

Her healing power rushed into Andrew's body like a breached dam, flooding his meridians with terrifying intensity. Stranger still, the energy seemed to recognize him, flowing through his veins with almost joyful familiarity.

"This can't be..." Luna's eyes widened.

She could "see" the shrapnel embedded deep in his skull—and the fractured blood vessels surrounding it. By all rights, Andrew shouldn't have survived long enough to reach the base.

Yet now, her ability was repairing the damage at an astonishing rate. The shrapnel was being pushed out by an invisible force, the wound closing before her eyes.

"The Captain's waking up!" someone shouted.

Luna looked up sharply, meeting Andrew's bloodshot eyes as they fluttered open. Those usually warm, laughing eyes now reflected her own panic-stricken face with startling clarity.

"Luna..." he whispered weakly.

She quickly pressed down his attempt to raise his hand, her peripheral vision catching the shrapnel that had fallen onto the stretcher. With practiced subtlety, she covered it with her sleeve, her pulse roaring in her ears.

This wasn't right. Her ability had never reacted like this before—as if it had always belonged to Andrew.