Safe in the Alpha’s care

I sink into the plush mattress as gentle hands pull warm and soft blankets over my shoulders. My muscles unwind, a cocoon of security wrapping around me. The door bangs open, startling me from this peace.

"How did this happen?" A deep voice thunders through the room. "If she doesn't recover, I'll take all those who were involved head’s. No one touches what belongs to me."

Someone's fingers intertwine with mine, sending a cascade of warmth spiraling up my arm. I struggle against heavy eyelids, managing only the smallest sliver of vision on my second attempt. A man clutches my hand while speaking to someone in a white coat. When I try to shift and moan, the doctor approaches. A threatening growl fills the room as he leans over me, checking my pupils with a penlight before pressing a stethoscope to my chest.

My throat feels like sandpaper. When I clear it, the man beside me asks, "Need a drink?" I manage a weak nod. He guides a straw between my cracked lips, and the cool water soothes my parched throat. I turned to the doctor, my voice barely a whisper. "What happened?" Instead of answering, he rises and confers with the other men across the room. The one who'd been holding my hand—Evan—returns to my side, his fingers once again entwining with mine. Their hushed conversation drifts over to me. "She'll be fine," the doctor says. "Bed rest will help her body flush out the toxins. Give it a couple days." He gathers his things. "Call me if you need anything else, Alpha." Evan nods. "I'll take the guest room down the hall. So that I am close if anything comes up" As he exit, the door clicks shut, and in that brief moment, I catch something glistening in Evan's eyes. Tears?

Questions swirl in my mind as sleep claims me again. I drift in darkness until I sense strong hands on my shoulders and hear a deep voice murmuring, "You're safe now. I'm here, nothing will harm you. Please forgive me." Consciousness slips away, pulling me into the nightmare blood-soaked ground, corpses scattered everywhere. A boy clutches my arm, his voice desperate as he shouts for me to follow. I'm running through the tunnel again, lungs burning. Light appears ahead, then flashes blindingly bright. Through the haze walks a woman, her face perpetually shadowed despite my straining eyes. Her voice flows like honey: "My child, it's time to remember." I wake screaming, sweat drenching my skin, only to feel strong arms encircling me and that same voice promising, "You're safe. I won't let anything happen to you."

My lungs expand with a few deep breaths before my eyes flutter open. A canopy of white sheer curtains surrounds the massive bed where I'm sitting. The scent of fresh rain and cedar fills my nostrils intoxicating, comforting. I turned to find Evan's arms wrapped around me.

I shifted away from his embrace. "Thirsty? Hungry?" he asks, his voice gentle.

"Just water, if it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all." As he disappears from the room, I take in my surroundings—the elegant balcony, the stained-glass French doors that scatter prismatic light across the floor like fallen jewels. Footsteps announce Evan's return. He offers a cup with a straw poking out. I remove it I've always hated straws but the first sip sends pain shooting through my face. Suddenly, the straw's purpose becomes clear.

Evan slides a pillow behind me for support. As I take another sip, I glance down and realize I'm wearing only an oversized T-shirt. Heat rushes to my cheeks as I tug the blanket higher across my chest.

"I've dealt with the guard responsible," Evan says, his voice tight with restrained anger. "This should never have happened to you. Can you ever forgive me?"

I force a small smile and ask about the bathroom. When I try to sit up, pain lances through my body. Evan's hand catches my shoulder. "Let me help," he murmurs. Before I can protest, he's beside me, his arm encircling my waist as my feet touch the floor. My knees buckled immediately. In one fluid motion, he lifts me against his chest, carrying me to the nearby bathroom.

After setting me down gently, he backs toward the door. "Just call if you need anything. I'll be right outside." Once alone, I dampen a washcloth and bring it to my face. The mirror reveals a stranger with purple bruises blooming across my skin, a jagged cut slicing my left cheek.

The stranger in the mirror makes me flinch, I can’t believe that it’s me. I reach for Jade, calling my wolf spirit with my mind, but I encounter only silence. My legs give out and I slide to the bathroom floor, drawing my knees to my chest. One tear escape, then another, until I'm shaking with sobs I can't control. Memories of that night flash through my mind the endless tunnel, running until my lungs burned, until Priestess Raven finally found me. I promised myself I'd never be this vulnerable again, yet here I am, broken after just two days.

The door crashes open. Evan's there before I can wipe my tears from my face, lifting me from the cold tile.

"What's wrong, my phoenix?" His voice is gentle as he sets me on the counter. "Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry," I whisper, ashamed of my tear-streaked face. "I didn't want anyone to see "

"Never apologize for crying," he interrupts, taking the washcloth and dabbing carefully at my bruises. "We all need to cry sometimes. It relieves stress."

"Would you like me to start a shower for you?"

I shake my head. "My body hurts too much. I just want to lie down."

Evan finishes cleaning my face, then retrieves a first aid kit from the nightstand. His fingers work with surprising gentleness as he applies butterfly bandages across the gash on my cheek. When he lifts me, the movement sends pain radiating through my back, pulling a groan from my lips. As I sink into the pillows, his eyes meet mine, dark with concern.

"May I check your back?" he asks, voice low. "The bandages likely need changing." I hesitate, weighing trust against necessity. After everything this pack has put me through, caution seems wise. But when he repeats his request, I realize I need to know the extent of my injuries. Slowly, I turn onto my side so he can lift my shirt. His sharp intake of breath precedes a rumbling growl.

"This should never have happened," he says, voice tight. "I'll get the doctor for thicker bandages. Without a wolf, you're healing too slowly, and these wounds are still seeping blood."

I met Evan's gaze, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why did they do this to me? I told them I knew you." My fingers twisted in the sheets. "You're being kind now, but you lied before. I may be different from others, but I deserve the truth—and better treatment than this." Evan's shoulders slumped as he stared at the floor. "This should never have happened," he murmured. "My warriors are trained to detect rogues by scent. They should have recognized you weren't one of them."

Evan's jaw tightened as he ran a hand through his hair. "The rogue wolf attacks have been relentless. I've had to restructure all our patrols, train new recruits..." His voice trailed off as he caught my expression. He stopped pacing and knelt beside the bed, his eyes finding mine.

"None of that matters," he whispered. "What happened to you is unforgivable." His fingers hovered near my bruised cheek without touching it. "From the moment I saw you that smile, those green eyes catching the sunlight " He swallowed hard. "I failed you, Jadon. And I'll make it right if it takes forever."

I lowered my gaze, heat rushing to my face. No one had ever spoken to me this way. His voice dropped even lower. "After I met you, I buried myself in paperwork with Jace, scheduled alpha meetings... excuses. All of them are just excuses."

His eyes held mine, amber flecked with gold, unwavering in their sincerity. I reach for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I understand you were busy," I whisper. "I don't know much about pack protocol. Maybe I shouldn't have come looking for you. I just needed access to your library for research. My own collection is... limited."

Evan's warm hands enveloped mine. His finger tilts my chin upward, forcing me to meet his gaze again. My chest rises and falls as I draw several calming breaths.

"My phoenix," he murmurs, "everything I have is yours. If what you seek isn't already in my possession, I'll find it. Whatever you need." His lips brush against my forehead, soft and warm, and I can't fight the smile that forms in response.

My voice trembles as I ask the question that's been haunting me. "Why can't I feel Jade anymore? My wolf—she's just... gone." I twist the edge of the blanket between my fingers, careful to keep my tone gentle. His jaw tightens before he answers, eyes darkening with what looks like guilt.

"How long will that take?" I ask, my voice barely audible even to my own ears. Evan's face tightens as he looks away. "The doctor says the toxin needs two to three weeks to clear your system. Your injuries, the broken ribs, wrist, and shin will take longer."

Words fail me as I absorb everything he's said. My body throbs in response, as if reminding me why this explanation matters. Can I really trust him after what's happened? A knock interrupts my thoughts. Evan rises and opens the door to admit the doctor, who approaches with clinical efficiency, bandages already in hand. I turn obediently, wincing as cool fingers probe my injuries. Behind me, Evan's low growl vibrates through the room each time the doctor's hands make contact with my skin.

After the doctor departs, I tug the covers higher and gingerly position myself on my side. The mattress shifts beneath Evan's weight as he returns. His fingers brush hair from my face with unexpected gentleness. "Most would be screaming after what you've endured," he murmurs. "You're remarkable, Jadon." I offer a small smile, knowing something he doesn't—I've survived far worse than he could imagine.

I place my palm against his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips. Our eyes meet, and I manage a small smile despite my aching body.

"I'll be fine," I whisper, my stomach growling audibly. "Just hungry."

His lips curve upward. "As you wish, my phoenix. I have work waiting, but I'll send an omega with food." He rises from the bed, straightening his shirt. "She can mind-link me if you need anything."

When the door clicks shut behind him, I exhale slowly. The silence feels like a gift to untangle my thoughts without his intense gaze. My fingers trace the edge of the blanket as I wish for Priestess Raven's steady voice, her hands that could brew healing tea while dispensing wisdom that made even the darkest situations bearable.

Sleep beckons as I close my eyes, willing my battered body to heal. Darkness swallows me whole. Distant screams pierce the void. My name echoes once, twice, again but the source remains hidden among the pressing crowd. A hand clamps around my wrist. I glanced down to find a boy tugging me toward a concealed doorway I hadn't noticed before.

His face remains in shadow, but crimson streams down his right leg from a gash that catches the dim light. He wrenches open the door, shoves me through the threshold, his voice urgent: "Run. Don't look back. Just run." My feet obey before my mind can protest. Suddenly, white light blinds me, washing everything away. When my vision clears, a woman stands before me, her presence achingly familiar silver hair cascading like sunlight, eyes green as spring leaves. Her fingers intertwine with mine, warm and solid. "Jadon," she whispers, "how beautiful you've become. Your destiny awaits you now." My throat tightens. "Please," I manage, "who am I? What am I supposed to do?" Her gaze holds mine, unwavering. "Find your answers in the history of the Jade Mountains."

The dim lights of the tunnel flicker ahead of me, a distant exit beckoning. My legs burn as I push harder toward freedom. Just as I break into the light, I jolted awake with a scream tearing from my throat. Strong arms encircle me from behind, and a deep voice murmurs against my ear.

"You're safe. It was just a dream."

Tingles cascade down my arms. I twist to find Evan's concerned face inches from mine, his amber eyes searching. "I felt your distress from my office," he says, brow furrowed. "You were thrashing and crying out."

I swallowed hard, forcing steadiness into my voice. "Just a nightmare. I'm fine now. You should return to your work I'll read until sleep finds me again." His breath warms the back of my neck as he inhales deeply, taking in my scent. I shift away and prop myself against the headboard, offering him a weak smile. "I'm fine," I murmur. "Thanks for checking on me."

"Do you want to talk about your dream?" Evan's eyes search mine. Not ready to open up to someone I barely know, I shake my head. "Just a bad dream. Nothing important."

He circles the bed, takes both my hands in his, and presses his lips gently against my knuckles. "If you're sure, my little phoenix. I'll finish my paperwork and bring dinner up for you."

After he leaves, I finally take in my surroundings. The spacious room holds a walk-in closet to the right and bathroom to the left. Across from the bed sits a small kitchen area, while the opposite wall features a television mounted above a couch flanked by armchairs. Soft yellow paint with light grey trim gives the space a warm, airy feeling.

A small smile tugs at my lips as I take in the room's details—yellow bedcovers with grey trim that match the walls, sheer white curtains floating around the bed frame. My fingers twitch with the urge to fill empty corners with potted ferns and hanging vines. Sleep feels distant, so I ease myself from the mattress, testing each step before crossing to the couch.

The clock reads six o'clock. By now, Christa and I would be sitting cross-legged in our garden, surrounded by wild sage and purple coneflowers, watching the little stream curl around the herb beds. My chest tightens with longing. I switch off the television and retreat to bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. The sheets smell of fresh rain and cedar makes me feel at home. I bury my face in the pillow, inhaling deeply, arms wrapped around it like an anchor. My eyelids have just grown heavy when the sound of the door opening jolts me back to consciousness.

The mattress sinks beside me, and fingers brush my cheek. Warmth spreads up my arm in tiny electric pulses as I blink awake to find Evan watching me. "You're done with work?" I murmur. "Sorry it took so long," he says. "Have you eaten? I could make something." I arch an eyebrow. " So, you cook as well as run a pack? A man of many talents."

"I manage not to burn things," he says with a half-smile. "I Want to help?" When I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, his hand caught my arm. I look up, meeting his concerned gaze. “I’ve been up and down all day," I protest. "I want to help." "You can help," he says, "if you let me get you to the kitchen." Before I can argue, he's scooped me up against his chest, carrying me across the room.

Evan settles me at the kitchen island and slides a cutting board toward me. "Think you can handle the carrots and onions?" His knife glints as he demonstrates a quick chop. I nodded, taking it from him, brushing our fingers. Heat rises to my cheeks as he turns to brown chunks of meat in a heavy pot.

"So," he says over his shoulder, "your coven how far exactly?" "Two days' walk from where we met," I answer, focusing on the steady rhythm of my knife against the board. "I was adopted when I was eight by my mother Raven. I don't remember much of anything before that."