Chapter 5 Enchanted

"Ugh... my wound."

Sasha staggered weakly through the forest, each step more painful than the last. Fresh blood seeped from the gash on her shoulder, staining her clothes. Her vision began to blur, a haze slowly creeping in from the edges. Through the fog, she caught a glimpse of a small house nestled among the trees.

Summoning what little strength she had left, Sasha limped towards it. But as her feet reached the front yard, the world around her spun, and her vision darkened. She collapsed onto the grass, unconscious.

She had no idea how long she remained in that state, but eventually, Sasha's eyes fluttered open. She found herself staring at the ceiling of an unfamiliar room, the soft glow of morning light filtering through a nearby window.

"Ah, you're awake," said a gentle voice.

Sasha turned her head and saw an old woman sitting by the bedside, her hands busy weaving a woolen thread.

Sasha's eyes widened in surprise, and she instinctively tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through her shoulder and arm. She winced, clutching the bandaged wounds.

"Don't move too much, dear," the old woman said softly. "Your wounds aren't healed yet."

Sasha glanced down at her arm, now wrapped neatly in white cloth. "You... treated my wounds?"

The old woman nodded, her smile gentle. "I found you lying in my garden last night. It looked like you'd gotten lost and been attacked by a wolf."

Sasha remained silent, trying to piece together the fragments of her memory from the night before.

"You're quite strong," the old woman continued, her tone calm and reassuring. "Even with such bad injuries, you managed to survive."

Sasha knew it was true. Though her self-healing was slow, her physical endurance far exceeded that of a normal human.

"I... I have to go," Sasha murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She realized that this kind old woman, who had taken care of her, was just an ordinary human.

"Where are you planning to go with a wound like that? Stay here for a while, at least until it heals," the old woman said, her voice filled with concern.

Sasha hesitated, unable to refuse. More precisely, she had no reason to. She didn't know where else to go, especially in her current condition. With a resigned sigh, she finally decided to stay, at least for a while, in the old woman's house.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the forest, Lucian lay curled up under a blanket, his expression tense and strained. The heat phase had set in, tormenting him ever since he had caught the faint scent of pheromones lingering in the forest that night.

"Mr. Lucian, you must attend today's meeting," said Billy, a Beta of the Vortex pack, as he entered the room. He could see that Lucian was not well. "Are you all right, sir?"

"Did you find her, Billy?" Lucian asked, his frustration evident in the tightness of his voice.

"Not yet, sir. We're having trouble tracking her because her scent is so faint."

"Find her!" Lucian's eyes flashed with a mixture of desperation and determination. "I want her! She's... she's my mate!"

Days passed with Lucian scouring the forest, but his efforts proved fruitless. Each search ended in disappointment, the forest yielding no trace of the girl who had been haunting his thoughts. Yet, he refused to give up. One night, driven by a restless need, Lucian ventured out alone, determined to find her.

He prowled the forest, searching for the faintest hint of her presence. And then, finally, he caught it-the same intoxicating scent that had been driving him mad for days.

"I smell it!" exclaimed Ray, the wolf spirit within Lucian, his voice vibrating with excitement.

Without hesitation, Lucian shift into his wolf form and sprinted through the underbrush, following the trail until it led him to a small house, secluded in the heart of the forest. In the courtyard, illuminated by the moonlight, sat a girl, lost in thought.

Lucian, still in his wolf form, crept closer, his eyes fixed on Sasha.

Meanwhile, Sasha, who had been daydreaming, suddenly felt a presence. She looked up and saw a werewolf watching her from behind a tree. Her heart leaped in her chest, her mind immediately flashing back to the rogue wolf that had attacked her before. Panic surged through her, and she jumped to her feet, snatching up a piece of wood to defend herself.

"P-Please, go! D-Don't come any closer!" she stammered, her voice trembling as she brandished the makeshift weapon.

"Don't be afraid, Little Wolf," came a low, soothing voice. "I have no intention of hurting you."

Sasha's eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of the werewolf standing before her. It was massive, far larger than any she had ever seen. Its thick, brown fur gleamed under the pale light of the moon, rippling with each subtle movement. For a moment, Sasha couldn't help but be mesmerized by it; she had never encountered a werewolf with such beautiful, almost regal fur.

She felt a pang of envy, a reminder of her own struggles. Unlike this magnificent creature, she had never even seen her own wolf form.

"What do you want?!" she shouted.

The werewolf's eyes, a striking amber, met hers with an intense, almost hypnotic gaze. Slowly, it took a step closer, and a deep, smooth voice rumbled from its chest.

"I want you."