Chapter 3
When I woke, I was lying in a warm bed surrounded by the scent of cedar and pine.
My fingers instinctively flew to my stomach. Still flat. Still there. Relief flooded through me.
"The pup is fine," a female voice said from beside me.
I turned my head and found a grey-haired woman sitting in a chair, knitting. She looked up at me with kind eyes and a knowing smile.
"Gave us quite a scare, young one. Four days in the snow, six weeks pregnant, carrying a broken mate bond AND a blood curse?" She clicked her tongue. "You're either incredibly strong or incredibly foolish."
"How do you know about—"
"The curse?" She set down her knitting. "I'm Helga, the pack healer. I can smell dark magic the way you can smell herbs. And that curse..." She shook her head. "That was meant to kill an Alpha. The fact that you're still breathing is nothing short of a miracle."
I looked down at my hands. The faint black veins were still visible under my skin — the mark of the blood curse I'd absorbed thirteen months ago.
The curse that was meant for Dorian.
"How long do I have?" I asked quietly.
Helga's expression softened. "With proper treatment and rest? Years. Decades, even. It's dormant now. But if you keep pushing yourself the way you have been..." She trailed off meaningfully.
The door opened before I could respond.
The silver-haired man from the snowstorm stepped in, freshly showered and carrying a bowl of soup. In daylight, he was striking — tall, broad-shouldered, with storm-grey eyes and a jaw sharp enough to cut glass. A thin scar ran across his left eyebrow, and despite his imposing build, his movements were surprisingly gentle.
"You're awake," he said, and something like relief flickered across his face. He set the soup on the bedside table. "I'm Caspian Wolfe. Alpha of Thornridge."
I tried to sit up straight. "I'm—"
"Elara Voss. Kira told me." He pulled up a chair and sat down, his elbows resting on his knees as he studied me with an intensity that made me want to pull the blankets higher. "She also told me you were the best healer in the southern territories, that you were treated like garbage by your pack, and that your Alpha—" His jaw tightened. "—rejected his own fated mate at a public ceremony."
I said nothing. There was nothing to say.
Caspian leaned back, his grey eyes never leaving my face. "You have a home here for as long as you need it. No conditions. No debts. Thornridge doesn't turn away wolves in need."
"I'm pregnant," I blurted. Might as well lay all my cards on the table now. "With his pup."
If Caspian was surprised, he didn't show it. He just nodded slowly.
"Then your pup will grow up safe here too."
I blinked, not trusting the sudden burning behind my eyes. "You don't even know me."
"I know enough." He stood up and gestured toward the soup. "Eat. Rest. When you're stronger, I'll show you around. Thornridge could use a real healer."
He was almost out the door when he paused and looked back.
"For what it's worth, Elara — any Alpha who throws away his fated mate for a political alliance doesn't deserve to call himself an Alpha."
The door clicked shut behind him.
I stared at the ceiling for a long time, pressing my lips together to keep them from trembling.
For the first time in years, someone had looked at me and seen something worth keeping.
My fingers instinctively flew to my stomach. Still flat. Still there. Relief flooded through me.
"The pup is fine," a female voice said from beside me.
I turned my head and found a grey-haired woman sitting in a chair, knitting. She looked up at me with kind eyes and a knowing smile.
"Gave us quite a scare, young one. Four days in the snow, six weeks pregnant, carrying a broken mate bond AND a blood curse?" She clicked her tongue. "You're either incredibly strong or incredibly foolish."
"How do you know about—"
"The curse?" She set down her knitting. "I'm Helga, the pack healer. I can smell dark magic the way you can smell herbs. And that curse..." She shook her head. "That was meant to kill an Alpha. The fact that you're still breathing is nothing short of a miracle."
I looked down at my hands. The faint black veins were still visible under my skin — the mark of the blood curse I'd absorbed thirteen months ago.
The curse that was meant for Dorian.
"How long do I have?" I asked quietly.
Helga's expression softened. "With proper treatment and rest? Years. Decades, even. It's dormant now. But if you keep pushing yourself the way you have been..." She trailed off meaningfully.
The door opened before I could respond.
The silver-haired man from the snowstorm stepped in, freshly showered and carrying a bowl of soup. In daylight, he was striking — tall, broad-shouldered, with storm-grey eyes and a jaw sharp enough to cut glass. A thin scar ran across his left eyebrow, and despite his imposing build, his movements were surprisingly gentle.
"You're awake," he said, and something like relief flickered across his face. He set the soup on the bedside table. "I'm Caspian Wolfe. Alpha of Thornridge."
I tried to sit up straight. "I'm—"
"Elara Voss. Kira told me." He pulled up a chair and sat down, his elbows resting on his knees as he studied me with an intensity that made me want to pull the blankets higher. "She also told me you were the best healer in the southern territories, that you were treated like garbage by your pack, and that your Alpha—" His jaw tightened. "—rejected his own fated mate at a public ceremony."
I said nothing. There was nothing to say.
Caspian leaned back, his grey eyes never leaving my face. "You have a home here for as long as you need it. No conditions. No debts. Thornridge doesn't turn away wolves in need."
"I'm pregnant," I blurted. Might as well lay all my cards on the table now. "With his pup."
If Caspian was surprised, he didn't show it. He just nodded slowly.
"Then your pup will grow up safe here too."
I blinked, not trusting the sudden burning behind my eyes. "You don't even know me."
"I know enough." He stood up and gestured toward the soup. "Eat. Rest. When you're stronger, I'll show you around. Thornridge could use a real healer."
He was almost out the door when he paused and looked back.
"For what it's worth, Elara — any Alpha who throws away his fated mate for a political alliance doesn't deserve to call himself an Alpha."
The door clicked shut behind him.
I stared at the ceiling for a long time, pressing my lips together to keep them from trembling.
For the first time in years, someone had looked at me and seen something worth keeping.