The Girl Was Captured

(Eliza's POV)

Nanny Edwards settled on the worn wooden bench beside me, her weathered hands cradling her teacup. The evening breeze carried the scent of pine through the sanctuary gardens.

"There's more to Elder Morgan's story than just losing her son's affection," she said softly. "Something far more painful."

I leaned closer, genuinely curious. "What happened?"

Nanny Edwards' eyes grew distant. "While defending the northern border, Elder Morgan was gravely wounded saving her mate's life."

My heart clenched at this revelation. "She was injured protecting him?"

"The attack left her with terrible scars across her body," Nanny Edwards continued. "Worse still, the injuries damaged her ability to shift into her wolf form and took away her fertility."

I gasped softly. For a werewolf, losing the ability to shift was like losing half your soul.

"When she finally returned home, her mate couldn't bear to look at her scarred body," Nanny Edwards' voice turned bitter. "He found her warrior's appearance repulsive."

"That's monstrous," I whispered, genuine anger rising within me. "She sacrificed everything for him."

Nanny Edwards nodded gravely. "While Elder Morgan was recovering from her injuries, Donna became her husband's mistress."

The betrayal struck me like a physical blow. "Her husband took her son's caretaker as his mistress? While Elder Morgan was bedridden from wounds she received protecting him?"

"Elder Morgan described it as feeling like she had swallowed a fly," Nanny Edwards said. "Disgusted and heartbroken all at once."

I could only imagine the pain—rejected by both son and mate while still suffering from devastating injuries.

"Her husband couldn't stand her scars, her son was distant, and the woman she trusted with her child became her replacement," Nanny Edwards continued. "It broke something in her."

"So she came here," I murmured, looking around at the ancient pines. "To Green Pine Sanctuary."

"These trees have healing properties," Nanny Edwards explained. "She hoped they might mend her spirit, if not her body."

My throat tightened with emotion. "No wonder she refuses to return to the Morgan estate."

We sat in silence for a long moment, the weight of my grandmother's story hanging between us.

"James Morgan is unfilial," I finally declared, unable to contain my indignation. "And the entire Morgan family treated her unjustly."

Nanny Edwards' eyebrows shot up at my boldness.

"I know I shouldn't speak ill of my father," I added quickly, "but how could he abandon his mother after all she sacrificed? He should be ashamed."

A small smile played at the corners of Nanny Edwards' mouth. "That's quite a strong opinion from someone who hasn't even met her father yet."

I bit my lip, suddenly fearful. "Please don't tell anyone I said that. I'd be punished severely if those words reached the family."

"Don't worry," she patted my hand reassuringly. "Your secret is safe with me."

Later that evening, as I practiced my calligraphy by candlelight, I could hear raised voices from Elder Morgan's chambers across the courtyard.

"The girl called James unfilial!" Elder Morgan's voice carried clearly through the night air. "She has quite the nerve, speaking of matters she knows nothing about!"

I froze mid-stroke, my stomach dropping.

"She was defending you, Elder," came Nanny Edwards' calmer reply. "She was genuinely angered on your behalf."

"Hmph! Defending me? More likely trying to curry favor!"

"I don't believe so," Nanny Edwards said. "She seemed sincere in her outrage. And she feared punishment if her words reached the family."

A long silence followed, and I strained to hear Elder Morgan's response.

"Perhaps it's time I met this impudent granddaughter of mine," she finally said, her tone unreadable.

I exhaled slowly, unsure whether to feel relieved or terrified.

The next morning, determined to prove myself worthy of my grandmother's approval, I rose before dawn. I gathered the herbal guidebook Nanny Edwards had given me and headed to the medicinal garden at the far end of the sanctuary.

The elderly gardener looked up in surprise as I approached. "Miss Eliza? What brings you here so early?"

"I'd like to help," I said, holding up the guidebook. "I've been studying the healing properties of these plants."

He smiled kindly. "Do you know anything about tending medicinal herbs?"

I hesitated. In my first life, I'd learned basic herb cultivation during my years of hardship with the midwife's family. But those memories felt hazy now, like a half-forgotten dream.

"Not much," I admitted. "But I'm eager to learn."

The old gardener nodded approvingly. "Honesty is a good start. Come, I'll show you how to identify the moonlight herb. It has powerful healing properties."

For the next several days, I established a routine. Mornings in the garden, afternoons practicing calligraphy, and evenings helping in the kitchen. My past life's survival skills proved unexpectedly useful.

When the cook complained about a weak healing stew, I remembered a technique from my years in the wilderness.

"May I suggest something?" I asked hesitantly.

The cook looked skeptical but nodded.

"If you simmer the moonlight herbs with venison bones first, then add the meat later, the healing properties will be stronger," I explained.

"Who taught you that?" she asked, surprised.

I shrugged. "I learned to make do with little during my childhood. When food was scarce, we had to extract every bit of nutrition possible."

The cook tried my method, and the resulting stew was noticeably more potent. Word spread quickly through the sanctuary, and soon my healing stew became a regular request.

One evening, Nanny Edwards appeared at the kitchen door.

"Elder Morgan would like a bowl of your stew," she announced.

My heart leaped. "She asked for it specifically?"

"She did," Nanny Edwards confirmed. "Though she claimed it was merely curiosity about what everyone was praising."

I prepared the stew with trembling hands, selecting the finest herbs and most tender venison. This was my chance to impress my grandmother.

The next day, Finch, one of Elder Morgan's personal maids, sought me out in the garden.

"Elder Morgan says your stew was adequate," she reported.

Coming from my formidable grandmother, "adequate" felt like high praise.

A week later, Elder Morgan requested my stew again. And again the following week.

"She's starting to acknowledge you," Nanny Edwards whispered as we walked through the sanctuary grounds. "I believe she's nearly ready to meet you face-to-face."

Hope bloomed in my chest. If I could gain Elder Morgan's support before returning to the Northern Territory, I might stand a chance against Katherine's schemes.

But fate had other plans.

I was in the herb garden, carefully harvesting moonlight herbs for that evening's stew, when shouts erupted from the sanctuary entrance.

"We're here for Eliza Morgan," a commanding male voice declared. "By order of Alpha James Morgan, she is to return to the Northern Territory immediately."

I dropped my basket, herbs scattering across the garden path. Looking up, I saw several men in Morgan Pack security uniforms striding through the courtyard.

"What's happening?" I asked a passing sanctuary attendant.

"Men from the Northern Territory have come for you," she replied, her expression worried. "They say you've been here long enough."

My heart raced. This was too soon. I needed more time to secure my grandmother's support.

Nanny Edwards hurried over, her face tense. "They're demanding you return with them. Elder Morgan is considering the request."

"I need to speak with her first," I insisted. "I can't leave without meeting my grandmother."

"I'll try," Nanny Edwards promised, hurrying away.

But before she could reach Elder Morgan's chambers, the security detail cornered me in the garden.

"Miss Eliza," their leader said firmly, "we have orders to escort you back to the Northern Territory."

"I'm not leaving," I declared, standing my ground. "Not until I've met Elder Morgan."

His expression hardened. "We have our orders. Please don't make this difficult."

"I refuse," I stated flatly. "I've waited patiently for weeks to meet my grandmother. I won't leave without seeing her."

The men exchanged glances. Then, without warning, two guards seized my arms.

"Let go of me!" I struggled against their grip, but they were trained fighters, and I was still weak from my previous life's malnutrition.

My wolf stirred within me, urging me to fight. I managed to land a kick on one guard's shin, causing him to loosen his hold momentarily.

I twisted free and made a dash toward Elder Morgan's quarters, but another guard tackled me to the ground.

"Restrain her," the leader ordered coldly.

One guard produced leather restraints, binding my wrists tightly behind my back.

"You can't do this!" I shouted, my voice carrying across the sanctuary. "I am Eliza Morgan! I have the right to meet my grandmother!"

But my protests fell on deaf ears. They lifted me bodily, carrying me toward the waiting vehicles at the sanctuary's entrance.

"Elder Morgan!" I called desperately. "Grandmother, please!"

I scanned the gathered crowd frantically, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but she was nowhere to be seen.