CHAPTER 4

(ORION’S POV)

I walked slowly down the path, my progress impeded by the crutch I leaned on for support. The fang-shaped sapphire around my neck shifted with each step, a constant reminder of both my strength and my vulnerability. Disappointment weighed heavily upon me, dragging down my posture and clouding my thoughts. Sheila’s rejection echoed relentlessly in my mind, each recurrence deepening the sting of defeat.

In the middle of deep thoughts, Willowhart's private quarters came into my view, nestled among the vibrant foliage next to the bustling healer hut. Her serene presence was there, in the middle of fragrant herbs and blooming flowers. It was a stark contrast to my inner turmoil.

Pausing in her gardening, Willowhart glanced up, her perceptive gaze catching my unrest immediately. "Young alpha?" she murmured softly, concern etched into her gentle features. "You seem troubled." Her eyes scanned the area, noticing the absence of her protege. "Where's Sheila?" she inquired, her voice laced with curiosity and a hint of worry.

My heart sank like a stone as Willowhart uttered her name. I turned to meet her concerned gaze, the weight of my emotions evident in the heaviness of my voice. "Sheila," I began, struggling to articulate the turmoil within me, "she... she ran into the woods."

Willowhart's brow furrowed with deeper concern at my words, prompting her to abandon her gardening and approach me with determined steps. "Ran into the woods?" she repeated, her voice carrying a note of alarm. "What happened?"

It dawned on me then, the depth of Willowhart's worry for both Sheila and myself. I hastened to allay her fears. "Everything's alright, Willowhart," I reassured her, though the disappointment still lingered heavy in my tone. "I just... told her how I feel, but she turned me down and ran into the woods."

As I relayed Sheila's sudden departure to Willowhart, her tension visibly melted away, replaced by a compassionate understanding. "I see," she murmured softly, her voice a soothing balm to my troubled soul. "I'll ensure the patrol groups keep an eye out for her."

With a sense of empathy born from years of healing and observing human nature, Willowhart delved into Sheila's past, offering me a glimpse into the complexities of her character. "You know, young alpha," she began, her voice carrying the weight of wisdom earned through years of experience, "Sheila is a complex soul. Her heart bears scars deeper than you can imagine."

A sudden realization dawned on me, prompting me to interject, "Scars? You mean her face?"

Willowhart's gaze turned somber, her eyes reflecting the depths of Sheila's suffering. "Beyond that, dear alpha," she corrected. "I stumbled upon her in the woods, frail and forsaken, during the grand foraging last autumn." Weariness tinged her voice as she recounted the grim discovery. "Her body bore the marks of savage wounds, but none as haunting as the scars left by wolfsbane venom upon her visage."

A heavy silence descended as Willowhart contemplated the inexplicable cruelty behind Sheila's disfigurement. "It was as though the venom possessed a malevolent will of its own," she mused, her furrowed brow betraying her bewilderment. "Or perhaps... the potency of the wolfsbane was such that it wrought devastation upon her visage unlike anything I've witnessed before."

She shook her head slowly, as if trying to shake off the disbelief that clouded her thoughts. "Yet, regardless of its origin," she continued, her voice weighted with uncertainty, "She carries the heavy burden of that affliction every passing day, young alpha. It has shaped her in ways that defy our understanding."

Her words sank deep into my consciousness, stirring a mix of emotions within me. Anger simmered beneath the surface as I grappled with the injustice inflicted upon Sheila. Who could be capable of such a vile act? The question burned in my mind, demanding an answer.

"Her rejection, dear alpha, stems not from a lack of affection, but from a fear of revealing her scars, both physical and emotional," Willowhart advised gently, her words piercing through the haze of confusion clouding my mind.

I turned to Willowhart, my troubled expression reflecting the weight of Sheila's unspoken pain. "She never told me..." I murmured, my eyes pleading for guidance. "What can I do, Willowhart? How can I reach her?"

With a reassuring touch on my shoulder, Willowhart met my gaze with unwavering resolve. "Give her time, young alpha," she advised, her voice steady and sure. "Let her learn to trust. If your emotions toward her are sincere, patience and empathy shall serve you well. Demonstrate your fearlessness of her scars, revealing the beauty that lies beneath the surface."

A newfound determination surged within me as Willowhart's words resonated in my mind. "Thank you, Willowhart. I won't give up on her," I declared firmly, the resolve evident in my voice and in the determined gleam of my eyes. With her wisdom guiding me, I was determined to show Sheila the depth of my sincerity and the unwavering strength of my affection.

--

Several nights passed, each one marked by Sheila's conspicuous absence from her lodge. Though she brought me food and fresh clothes in the mornings, her visits were fleeting, and she always made a hasty retreat before any meaningful conversation could take place.

Sheila's excuses for her prolonged absences seemed flimsy at best. First, she claimed to be helping Willowhart tend to her garden, then she cited the need to gather herbs for cold medicine and assist in their preparation at the community healer hut's storage lodge.

The weight of the growing distance between us pressed heavily upon me, fueling a resolve to confront Sheila. I couldn't continue to let her evade me, not when our relationship hung in the balance. Today, I decided, would be the day I sought her out and had the conversation we so desperately needed.

My quest led me deeper into the heart of the pine woods, where the trees loomed tall and thick, their branches weaving a canopy overhead that filtered the sunlight into a mesmerizing pattern on the forest floor. Despite this natural labyrinth, I caught a whiff of Sheila's unmistakable scent—a blend of ripe grapefruit with hints of soft jasmine. Following the trail of her fragrance, I eventually stumbled upon her standing in a small clearing, her back turned towards me, her silhouette etched against the dappled sunlight.

Approaching her with caution, I was careful not to disrupt the serene stillness that enveloped us. "Sheila," I called out softly, my voice carrying across the tranquil space.

At the sound of my voice, Sheila visibly tensed, though she made no move to turn and face me. Instead, she seemed to retreat further into herself, her posture guarded as if shielding herself from the vulnerability of direct confrontation. "Orion! I-I didn’t expect you to be here!" she exclaimed, her surprise tinged with a hint of unease.

As I stood before Sheila, my mind buzzed with unspoken words, each one vying for expression in the charged silence between us. "Sheila, you've clearly been avoiding me," I finally spoke, my tone firm yet gentle, a reflection of the conflict raging within me. "I want to talk to you. So please, don't run away from me."

With a hesitant resolve, I reached out and gently clasped Sheila's hand, silently urging her to break the barrier of tension that hung between us.

Sheila remained silent, her posture rigid with apprehension.

Undeterred by her silence, I pressed on, my words measured and sincere. "I want you to know that it doesn't matter to me. None of it," I assured her, my voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling within me.

Her uncertainty prompted her to inquire, "What do you mean?"

Carefully, I recounted Willowhart's narrative, sharing the story of Sheila’s discovery in the woods the previous autumn. "Your appearance... It doesn't change how I feel about you," I explained, my voice carrying the weight of conviction. "What matters most to me is who you are, your heart. You've always been nothing but kind to me, Sheila."

Sheila hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching mine for some hint of reassurance. "Then let's put your words to the test," she finally declared, her voice steady despite the underlying uncertainty.

With deliberate movements, she reached up and removed the veil that concealed her face.

My breath caught in my throat as I beheld her true appearance. Sheila's facial scar twisted across her cheek like a dark, jagged river, its presence dominating her features with an undeniable rawness. Beneath it, her skin bore the marks of a tumultuous journey, contorted into ridges and valleys that spoke of pain and resilience.

To me, however, Sheila's scars were not a mark of imperfection but a testament to her strength. They added depth to her beauty, a reminder of the battles she had fought and the courage she had displayed in the face of adversity. In that moment, I saw her scars not as blemishes but as intricate patterns that told a story of survival and determination.

Recognition flickered briefly across my face before being replaced by awe and admiration.

But before I could articulate my thoughts, Sheila seemed to misinterpret my reaction, her disappointment palpable in the heavy sigh that escaped her lips. "I knew you couldn’t stand it," she lamented, her words echoing with a tinge of resignation.

Rushing to clarify, I interjected, "Wait, Sheila. You got it all wrong. Honestly, it's the opposite of what you think. I mean, you're just... stunning," I said sincerely, hoping she'd understand the depth of my genuine admiration.

Sheila turned away, her voice choked with emotion. “No, I shouldn't have shown you anything.”

As she began to walk away, seemingly overwhelmed, I couldn't bear to let her slip away without understanding. I reached out and gently grabbed her hand, halting her departure. "Sheila, I really meant what I said," I assured her softly. "I care about you. How you look doesn’t change that. Please, stay."

But as I reached out to comfort her, Sheila pulled away, tears streaming down her face. "Go away, Orion! Don't ever come to see me again!" she burst out, her voice trembling with emotion.

With that declaration, I dashed off in the direction of the haven, leaving me once again, alone with my thoughts and a heavy heart.