Chapter 9

Bloodhowl Pack

Cade POV

I paced the corridor, restless and anxious, just beyond the doors. Ayla was inside with the healers.

My mind kept replaying the moment I found her.

I had heard her voice—faint, almost like a whisper carried by the wind—deep in the heart of the forest. 

At first, I thought I imagined it. But then it came again, weaker… desperate.

Without hesitation, I shifted into my grey wolf, paws pounding against the earth as I ran, faster than my legs could carry me in human form.

I found her there—deep in the forest. Lifeless. Lying in a pool of her own blood.

I was devastated—confused, desperate—wondering what Ayla was doing in the middle of all this. But I had no time to waste. I scooped her lifeless body into my arms, blood soaking through my shirt.

Then—her eyes fluttered. Just barely. Life sparked in them for a second.

“Stay with me, Ayla. Keep your eyes open,” I urged.

A faint smile touched her lips—fleeting, fragile—and vanished as quickly as it came. Her eyes began to close again.

“Keep your eyes open, Ayla,” I said again, this time more desperately.

And then I ran. Fast. Without looking back.

“She is out of critical condition, Alpha.”

The healer’s voice snapped me back to the present.

“When will she wake up?” I asked, my voice low, my heart in my throat. I was praying inwardly—pleading with every part of me.

“Anytime soon,” he replied, before turning away to speak with the others.

I entered the room.

There she was—my mate—lying still, her face pale and too quiet.

Her long, dark curls had lost some of their luster, but they still framed her face beautifully, cascading behind her on the pillow like soft ink.

As I watched her, a quiet hum escaped her lips. She shifted slightly, the quilt slipping off her body.

I reached to pull it back up—and that’s when I saw it. The scar on her left hip. The one she got during a failed training session when we were younger.

My chest tightened with regret. I hated every damn thing I had let her go through—every pain, every tear I hadn’t stopped.

She moved again, murmuring something I couldn’t quite make out, lost in sleep.

And then… I caught myself smiling.

Despite everything, she looked peaceful. Beautiful. Cute, even.

I didn’t know when the smile came, but I stayed like that—just studying her, holding on to the quiet moment.

“Will you stop staring at me?”

Her voice was soft but sharp enough to cut through my thoughts. My gaze snapped to hers—deep brown eyes, now open and throwing daggers at me.

“Be grateful, at least,” I said, smirking. “I found you in a pool of your own blood.”

“Hmm. Thanks,” she replied dryly. “Can I stand up and leave now?”

“The healer said you should rest for a few days. You can’t leave yet.”

That was a lie. He didn’t say that. I just… wanted her close. Just a little longer. Maybe we could finally talk. Maybe this time, things could be different.

“Can you please stop staring at me?”

Her voice again—exasperated, but something about it was still soft. I blinked, realizing I’d zoned out staring.

I stood quickly, heading for the door.

“The maids will bring your lunch,” I said over my shoulder. “You’ve been out for a while.”

“What? I’ve been out since yesterday?!”

I turned slightly, catching her puzzled expression—and smiled.

A moment later, I left the room. Not long after, the maids came bustling in with trays of steaming, mouth-watering food.

The moment I stepped out of Ayla’s room, Riven—my Beta—was already waiting. Without a word, he fell into step beside me, leading the way to the conference room, guards trailing behind us.

The elders had summoned a meeting. No reason given. But I had a feeling—maybe, just maybe—it had something to do with Ayla… and the bond between us.

In minutes, we reached the room. Everyone stood as we entered, bowing in respect. I gave a curt nod and made my way to the far end of the long table, taking my seat. With a simple gesture, I signaled them to sit.

“To whom do I owe this unexpected meeting?” I asked, scanning the room, eyes studying each elder’s face, reading the tension in their expressions.

Elder Galen stood first. Of course. The old man had always been a thorn in my side—opposing nearly every decision I made. I’d long stopped caring.

“Alpha, it’s about the increasing rogue attacks,” he said, his voice heavy, his expression like stone—focused on me, as always.

“And?” I replied, already bored. My mind wandered. Was Ayla done eating? Was she resting? Awake?

“We believe it might be related to your mate.”

There it was.

If no one else would stir the pot, Galen always would. Planting seeds of fear and distrust like it was his divine duty.

“How exactly is it related to her?” I asked, genuinely curious now.

“She’s an Omega,” came the sharp voice of Elder Creed, Galen’s loyal shadow. “She’ll always be a liability.”

The words hung in the air like poison.

Riven was on his feet in an instant, sword halfway drawn. “How dare you call the Alpha’s mate a liability?”

“Stand down, Riven,” I said calmly, though inside, the Alpha in me was clawing at the surface. My voice remained level, but my eyes burned with a warning. “Let them speak.”

I turned my gaze to Galen, my tone cool but laced with fire beneath.

“So then, tell me—what do you suggest we do to avoid her being such a liability?” I asked, deliberately emphasizing the word.

Galen didn’t flinch.

“Reject the mate bond.”