Chapter 8 Eliza

The infirmary was clean, smelling faintly of herbs and antiseptic. Not my usual setting for post-brawl recovery, which typically involved a quiet corner and questionable self-care, but I wasn't about to complain. A kind-faced healer, a wolf named Anya, worked efficiently on my shoulder, her touch gentle despite the obvious strength in her hands.

"You're lucky," she murmured, her eyes holding a knowing depth. "That claw went deep, but it missed the main arteries. And the bone isn't fractured, just bruised."

"Good to know my bones are as hard as my head," I muttered, wincing as she cleaned the wound.

She gave a soft chuckle. "You took down two wolves, from what I hear. Rogues. That's not small."

"Wasn't exactly planned," I said, offering a tired half-smile. "Impulse control isn't my strong suit when someone's getting hurt."

She finished stitching me up, her movements precise. The bandage felt tight, a physical reminder of the night's violence. As she worked, I thought about Eliza. Anya had checked on her first, confirming she was physically unharmed but deeply shaken. They had given her something to help her sleep, and she was resting in a quiet room down the hall. Knowing she was safe, at least for now, eased a fraction of the tension that had been coiled in my gut.

But the questions about her future, remained. I always know about mine. On the run always looking over my shoulder.

Once Anya was finished, she advised rest and gave me instructions on changing the dressing. Rest. As if that were a simple commodity in my life. Especially now. I thanked her and left the infirmary, the stiffness in my shoulder a constant companion.

The safehouse was stirring. The news of the rogues, and my part in it, had spread. As I walked through the corridors, heads turned. The fear from the pup incident was gone, replaced by a new kind of speculation. Eyes followed me curious, awed, some still uncertain.

Part of me wanted to retreat to my room, pull the covers over my head, and pretend the last twelve hours hadn't happened. But another part, the stubborn, defiant core of me, knew I couldn't. I needed to talk to Alpha Draven. I needed to face the consequences of my actions and the implications of my revealed nature. And I needed to find out what he planned to do about Eliza.

His office was in a quieter wing of the house, a large room dominated by a heavy wooden desk and shelves lined with books and pack records. He was already there, standing by the window, his gaze fixed on the woods I had just emerged from hours earlier. The early morning light cast his profile in sharp relief, highlighting the lines of leadership and responsibility etched into his face. He looked tired, the Alpha summit clearly having taken its toll even before my chaotic return.

I knocked lightly on the open door.

He turned, his expression shifting from contemplation to sharp, assessing focus as he looked at me, my bandaged shoulder, and the weary determination in my eyes.

"Feei," he said, his voice calm, lacking the urgency of our brief exchange at the gate.

"Anya patched you up?"

"She did," I confirmed, stepping into the room. "Apparently, I'm just lucky, not invincible. Good to know."

He gave a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Sit down."

I took the chair he indicated, opposite his desk. It was uncomfortable, formal. Not a setting conducive to casual conversation, which suited me just fine. I wasn't here for casual.

He didn't sit immediately. He walked around the desk, pausing behind his chair, his gaze steady on mine. "Three rogue wolves," he began, his voice serious. "On my territory. Attacking a vulnerable Feral. You intercepted them. Killed two."

"They were going to..." I hesitated, searching for a word that wasn't too graphic, that captured the vile intent.

"Harm her. Violently."

He nodded, his expression grim. "I understand. Rogues who prey on the weak are a blight. You did what was necessary." He paused.

"As I said," I replied, a touch of irritation entering my voice, "seemed like the most effective approach at the time. Less paperwork than trying to arrest them, I imagine."

He didn't react to the sarcasm, his focus unwavering. "Most shifters, even experienced ones, would struggle against three rogues of that size and aggression, especially while protecting someone. You were efficient. Brutal."

I shrugged, the movement pulling at my shoulder. "Survival skills, Alpha. You pick them up when you don't have a safehouse to run to." The snark was a shield, deflecting the intensity of his scrutiny. Yes, my wolf form was different. Faster, maybe stronger, with an edge that went beyond mere lupine instinct. Being Moon-blessed, perhaps? Another mystery layered onto the many I carried.

"And Eliza," he continued, pivoting slightly. "The girl you made the deal with."

"She's the same girl," I confirmed. "She didn't mean any harm with Lily. Just desperately lonely."

"Lonely enough to kidnap a child," he pointed out, his voice lacking judgment, merely stating a fact.

"Lonely enough to make terrible decisions," I corrected. "There's a difference." I met his gaze directly. "She saved Lily's life, in a roundabout way. She gave her back to me. She held up her end of the bargain."

He sat down finally, leaning forward slightly on his desk. "And your end of the bargain was to stay here."

"That's what I promised," I confirmed. "My continued presence, in exchange for Lily's safe return."

"A strange currency," he mused, almost to himself. "Why did she value your presence so much?"

I sighed. "She saw the pack. Saw the belonging. Saw a world she craved but felt excluded from. Maybe she saw me as a bridge. Or maybe just a way to keep a piece of this world tied to her. I don't know her full motivations. But I know she's terrified and alone, and those wolves they proved she can't survive out there indefinitely."

He was silent for a moment, considering. "She's a feral," he said finally. "We don't have protocols for this. She was not wolf, not feral from another pack. Bringing her here..."

"Was necessary," I finished for him. "After what happened. I couldn't leave her there. She isn't feral anymore, I changed her."

He nodded slowly. "No. You couldn't. And you chose not to." He looked at me intently. "You risked yourself, not just against the rogues, but by bringing her here. You complicated things significantly."

"As I recall, Alpha," I said, leaning back slightly, trying to find a comfortable position for my shoulder, "my existence complicated things the moment a flower sprouted from my blood on your floor. I warned you I wasn't simple."

A faint smile touched his lips again. "You did. I suppose I underestimated the extent of the complexity." He paused, then his expression turned serious once more. "Her presence here will raise questions. Concerns. She is an outsider, and her actions, however motivated by loneliness, put the pack's pup at risk."

"She saved Lily from the rogues by giving her back," I countered. "And she was nearly killed because she was vulnerable out there."

"The pack will need to understand," he said. "Accepting a feral is unprecedented."

"Perhaps," I said, a weariness creeping into my voice. "Or perhaps they'll see a scared girl who needs help, just like you saw someone who needed help when I arrived."

He studied me, his gaze searching. "You feel responsible for her."

"I feel like I understand her," I admitted, the shield of snark momentarily dropping. "The loneliness. The craving for a place to belong. I know that feeling. And I made a promise."

He held my gaze, and for a moment, I felt a connection that went beyond Alpha and anomaly, beyond wolf and moon-blessed.

He finally leaned back in his chair, the conversation shifting gears, though the intensity remained. "Speaking of belonging, and the pack, we have events coming up."

My internal alarm bells immediately went off. "Events?" My voice was flat, suspicious. Social events were my personal hell. Pack social events? Even worse.

"Yes," he said, his tone businesslike now. "In approximately two weeks. We will be hosting an inter-pack gala dinner."

My eyes narrowed. "A gala dinner." The words tasted foreign, unpleasant. My galas involved dodging guards and avoiding spotlights, not canapés and polite conversation. "Why?"

"It's an annual tradition among the regional packs," he explained patiently, as if I were a particularly slow pup. "An opportunity for Alphas and key pack members to network, discuss territorial matters, strengthen alliances. It's important for diplomacy."

"Diplomacy," I repeated dryly. "With wolves. Sounds charming. Will there be place settings marked with who's allowed to eat who?"

His lips twitched. "No, Feei. It's a formal gathering. Humans attend as well, where applicable."

"Right," I said, the sarcasm thick in my voice. "Because blending in is my specialty. Especially in formal wear." My worn, blood-stained clothes felt suddenly very inadequate.

"And," he continued, dropping the second shoe, "following the gala, we will be holding a mating ceremony for all wolves to find their matches." He quirks a brow in my direction.

A mating ceremony. Public declaration of lifelong bonds within a pack structure. The antithesis of my solitary, unbound existence. My stomach clenched.

"A mating ceremony," I repeated, the sarcasm giving way to genuine discomfort. "So, forced social interaction and public displays of pack permanence. My two favorite things."

He watched my reaction, an assessing look in his eyes. "These events are important to the pack, Feei. They reinforce our bonds, both internally and externally. And as someone who is now ostensibly a part of this pack, even in your unique capacity, your presence will be expected."

Expected. Right. Not desired, not welcomed for who I was, but expected as part of the scenery, the 'unique capacity' being the anomaly who lived among them.

"Expected," I echoed. "So, less 'guest who saved the pup' and more 'unusual exhibit A'?"

"Not at all," he said, though his tone was difficult to read. Was he being sincere, or just managing my reaction? "You are... a unique individual, Feei. Your presence here is known among the regional Alphas, if only by rumour about the Moon-blessed. Your appearance at the gala would formalize your position, in a way. Show that you are here under my protection, by my will."

Or, show that he had the Moon-blessed locked up, depending on the optics. The cynic in me, honed by years of distrust, immediately went there.

"Formalize my position," I mused, rubbing my aching shoulder. "So, instead of just the weird lady in the spare room, I get to be the weird lady in a dress, awkwardly avoiding eye contact while wolves discuss territorial boundaries?"

He sighed, a sound of slight exasperation. "It's not mandatory, Feei. But it would be beneficial. For you, and for the pack's standing."

Beneficial. Right. Forcing me into a social situation that felt like navigating a minefield while blindfolded. My brain, already weary from the fight and the conversation, felt like it was short-circuiting. Gala? Mating ceremony? Me?

"I'm more comfortable fighting rogues in the woods than making small talk in a ball gown, Alpha," I said flatly.

"I understand that," he said, his voice softer now. "But sometimes, the most dangerous battles are fought not with claws and teeth, but with words and appearances."

A chilling thought settled over me. Was this about more than just diplomacy? Was my presence at the gala meant to send a message? That Alpha Draven had the wraithbane? That he was allied with something ancient and powerful? Or was it simpler just a typical pack leader trying to integrate an unusual individual into his community, albeit clumsily?

"Alright, Alpha," I said, pushing myself up from the chair, the decision made with a weary resignation that surprised even me. I had promised to stay. This, apparently, was part of the package. "Fine. Put me down for 'Awkward Anomaly with Shoulder Injury'. Just don't expect me to waltz."

A genuine smile finally touched his face, a flicker of warmth that reached his eyes. "I wouldn't dream of it, Feei."

As I left his office, the weight of the last few days seemed to settle on me anew. The fight with the rogues, the rescue of Eliza, the promise I had made, my revealed nature, and now, a gala dinner and a mating ceremony.

My life, which had been a series of quiet disappearances and solitary survival, was suddenly filled with people, expectations, and blindingly public events. I had wanted a place to belong, a sense of safety. I had found it, in the most unexpected of places, among wolves. But it seemed belonging came with a price, and that price might just involve learning to navigate the terrifying world of formal wear and polite conversation. And stay off the radar of any searching for me.