Chapter 4 Episode 004

Chapter four

Logan's pov

"Marcus!" I roared, bursting into the healing den. "She's fading, damn it! You have to help her!"

The grizzled old healer took one look at her broken form and his eyes widened. He ushered me over to a cot, already barking orders to his assistants.

"Easy now, Alpha. Let me see the extent of her injuries."

"She's been poisoned," I growled through gritted teeth. "Some kind of toxin I've never encountered before."

Marcus leaned in close, sniffing delicately at her wounds. His brow creased into a deep frown.

"Indeed, this reeks of powerful magic - far beyond my skill to treat." He met my gaze, his eyes full of regret. "Unless we can find an antidote, or break whatever hex has been cast...her odds of survival are slim at best."

"That's not good enough!" I roared, rounding on the startled healer. "Tell me what I need to do, Marcus. There has to be a way!"

Marcus raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Perhaps...if we could enlist the aid of a skilled witch or shaman. One steeped in the old ways of magic and herblore."

I didn't hesitate. "Then that's what we'll do. Send a runner to summon Yarrow at once - that old crone owes me a debt."

While we waited for the witch's arrival, I refused to leave the woman's side. Up close, her delicate features were even more striking - high cheekbones, full lips slightly parted, thick lashes fanning across porcelain skin.

Despite her battered state, she possessed a raw, untamed beauty that called to my wolf on a primal level. I found myself tracing the curve of her jaw with one calloused fingertip, entranced by the feeling of her warm skin against mine.

The sound of approaching footsteps pulled me from my trance. I turned to see Yarrow shuffling into the den, her wrinkled face creased into a perpetual scowl.

"You'd better have a damn good reason for summoning me, Logan," she groused, leaning heavily on her gnarled oak staff. "My soaps were just about to reach the perfect–"

She broke off, catching sight of the motionless woman on the cot. In a surprisingly spry move for one so ancient, she crossed the room and peered down at her prone form.

"Poisoned by darkroot, by the looks of it," Yarrow murmured, almost to herself. "And infused with some nasty curse magic to boot." She looked up at me, her dark eyes glittering. "This one's got the blood of alphas coursing through her veins - likely the only thing keeping her clinging to life."

My breath caught in my throat at her words. An alpha? But she was just a lone rogue, or so I'd assumed...

Yarrow snapped her fingers under my nose, her expression one of thinly veiled impatience.

"Well? Are you going to stand there gawping all day, or are you going to provide what I need to start the rites?"

"Wh-what do you require?" I stammered, cursing the tremor in my voice. Get a grip, Logan!

"A sacrifice of alpha blood must be made if you wish to break this curse," the old witch intoned, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Only the lifeblood of a pack leader can counter such foul magic."

Without hesitation, I snatched up a wicked-looking bone knife from Marcus' tray of tools and sliced open my forearm. Gritting my teeth against the fiery pain, I held the freely bleeding wound over a wooden bowl, letting my crimson essence flow until the vessel was nearly full to the brim.

Yarrow accepted the offering with a curt nod, already shuffling toward the corner to prepare her foul-smelling concoctions.

At long last, Yarrow straightened, scooping up the bowl of my blood and shuffling back over to the cot. She tipped the contents over the woman's body, murmuring one final incantation that made the very air crackle with energy.

For a dozen agonizing heartbeats, nothing happened. Then, the woman's back arched off the cot as she sucked in a ragged gasp of air, her eyes flashing open. Those luminous orbs rolled wildly for a moment before locking onto my face, brimming with a swirl of emotions - fear, confusion...and something deeper that I couldn't quite place.

I sagged with relief, bracing my hands on the edge of the cot as my knees threatened to give out. She was alive. Battered and weary, yes, but gloriously, miraculously alive.

"Welcome back," I rasped, unable to tear my gaze from those captivating eyes. "For a while there, I wasn't sure if..."

I trailed off, suddenly aware of the heat flooding my cheeks. What was wrong with me? I was the alpha, the undisputed leader of one of the most powerful packs in the territories. And yet this woman rendered me a stammering fool with but a single look.

"You're safe now," I assured her, forcing my voice into a tone of quiet strength. "No more harm will come to you under my protection. This, I vow."

She held my stare for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in those fathomless depths. Then, almost imperceptibly, she inclined her head in a slight nod of acknowledgment.

With a grunt of satisfaction, Yarrow scooped up her belongings and hobbled from the den, muttering under her breath about impatient alphas and wasted batches of rosehip soap.

Marcus laid a gentle hand on my shoulder, his eyes alight with something akin to wonder.

"It would seem the fates have interwoven your destiny with this one, Alpha. Perhaps the Moon Mother has seen fit to bless you after all."

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words stuck in my throat as the enormity of the situation threatened to overwhelm me. This enigmatic woman had been brought to me at death's door, her very presence awakening something primal and protective in the deepest recesses of my soul.

I turned away from Marcus without a word, sinking onto the edge of the cot. Gently, reverently, I reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from the woman's brow, savoring the feeling of her silken tresses against my calloused fingertips.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marcus slip quietly from the den, leaving me alone with my charge. My ears picked up the reassuring cadence of her heartbeat, strong and sure in her chest. Allowing my eyes to drift shut, I focused inward, reaching out to my wolf in the hidden spaces of our shared consciousness.

What do you make of all this, Olie? I sent, letting the thought reverberate between us.

The great beast regarded me with molten eyes, his massive fanged maw curling into a rumbling growl. I know what you know, alpha. The Moon Mother has led this woman across our path, and not by mere happenstance.

You believe she could be...my fated mate? The notion was as terrifying as it was intoxicating. To be bound for eternity to this enigmatic stranger – was I truly prepared for such a pairing?

Olie seemed to sense my trepidation. He shifted closer, the heat of his breath ruffling my mental fur. Do you not feel the stirring in your soul, Logan? The inexplicable, irresistible pull toward this delicate creature?

As if in answer, my gaze was drawn back to the woman's slumbering form. I admired the gentle swell of her parted lips, the feathery lashes fanning across those high, sculpted cheekbones. Something low in my abdomen tightened, a sublime ache blossoming in my core.

This one is special, Olie growled, his voice a low, insistent rumble. Mark my words, Alpha – she will be the light that guides you through the coming darkness. Our one...true...mate.

A shudder passed through me at the wolf's vehement declaration. Logically, I knew I should approach this situation with caution. As the alpha, the welfare of my pack came before all else – including my own wants and desires.

And yet...as I drank in the ethereal beauty of this brave, resilient woman...all logic, all semblance of reason fled, leaving only the undeniable truth burning in the depths of my soul.

This was the other half I'd been searching for my entire life. My future, my destiny...my mate.

I settled back in the chair beside the cot, every fiber of my being attuned to the slightest change in her condition. My wolf rumbled contentedly, a sensation of profound rightness suffusing our shared mind.

Sleep, Alpha. We will keep vigil, as we were always meant to.

So I let my eyes drift shut, surrendering to the bone-deep weariness that comes from cheating death itself. But my dreams were not dark or troubled – instead, they were awash with visions of eternal moonlight, and the promise of a love that would redefine every truth I'd once held sacred.

When next I awoke, it would be to a brave new world, my role in the cosmic dance forever altered.

All because of her.