Thank you

~Elira~

The first thing I felt was the pain, dull at first and then sharp as it spread through my head like something was clawing its way out. I let out a low groan as my fingers twitched against the surface beneath me.

My vision was blurred when I forced my eyes open, everything around me shifting and unclear, shapes blending into each other as I blinked slowly, trying to make sense of where I was and why the air felt different, cleaner than the damp rot of that dark room, softer than the cold bite of the forest floor.

The events of the previous night came rushing back all at once, too fast and too sharp, and my breath caught painfully in my throat as my body tensed against the surface I lay on.

My heart began to pound as the memories forced themselves into place, the guards, the woods, the arrows pointed at me, the moment I had shut my eyes and accepted death, and then the sound, the screams, something moving in the darkness before everything went black.

I swallowed hard as my hand moved to my head, wincing slightly when my fingers brushed against the sore spot, and I whispered quietly, “Something hit me…” the realization settling slowly as confusion followed right after it, because I hadn’t seen what had saved me, hadn’t seen who had stepped in before the darkness took me.

A soft grinding sound pulled me from my thoughts, steady and rhythmic, and I turned my head slightly despite the discomfort, my vision clearing enough to make out the figure at the other end of the room.

An elderly woman bent slightly over a small table as she worked, her hands moving with practiced ease as she crushed herbs in a ceramic mortar, the scent of them faint but noticeable in the air, sharp and earthy and strangely calming.

She didn’t look at me immediately, but I could tell she knew I was awake, something in the way her movements slowed just slightly before she finally turned her head, her eyes meeting mine with a calmness that felt out of place with everything I had been through.

“You’re awake,” she said, her voice gentle but firm, carrying the kind of quiet authority that made me still instinctively, and I pushed myself up slightly, wincing as the pain in my head pulsed again, my body protesting the movement as I struggled to sit properly.

“Where… where am I…?” my voice came out hoarse, barely steady.

I swallowed before trying again, my gaze shifting between her and the unfamiliar room, the wooden walls, the soft light filtering in, the absence of chains and guards and fear that I had started to used to. “Who are you…?”

She studied me for a moment, her expression unreadable but not unkind, and just as she opened her mouth to respond, the sound of footsteps reached us, drawing both our attention toward the entrance of the room.

The door opened without hesitation, and he stepped in.

My breath caught.

For a moment, I forgot the pain, forgot the fear, forgot everything except the way he carried himself.

He was tall and composed with a presence that filled the room without trying, his brown hair slightly tousled as if he had just come from outside, his features sharp but not as cold as the King’s, and his eyes…

There was something different in them, something that held weight but not cruelty, something that felt like control without the need to dominate. He was handsome, undeniably so, but it wasn’t the kind of beauty that suffocated the way Kael’s did, it was steadier, quieter, like a storm that hadn’t decided to break yet.

He stopped a few steps into the room, his gaze settling on me as he took in my state, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw something close to concern flicker across his face before it was masked again by calm composure.

“How do you feel?” he asked, his voice low and even, carrying a strength that made it hard to ignore.

I blinked slowly, still trying to process everything, still trying to understand why I was here and why I was alive, and the question slipped out before I could stop it, my voice softer now but steadier than before, “Why did you help me…?”

His gaze didn’t waver as he stepped closer, stopping at a distance that felt respectful, not invasive, and he exhaled quietly before answering,

“Because I don’t stand by and watch helpless people get killed in such an inhumane way,” his tone firm but not harsh, and there was something in the way he said it that made me believe him instantly, as if it wasn’t just words but something he had lived by for a long time.

He tilted his head slightly, studying me again before continuing, “If someone is going to die, then let it be in a fair fight, not like that… not like prey waiting to be slaughtered,” and his jaw tightened just slightly as he finished, a flicker of something darker passing through his expression before it faded again.

My fingers curled slightly against the fabric beneath me as I absorbed his words, my chest tightening faintly, not from pain this time but from something else I couldn’t quite name.

I realized then that the clothes against my skin felt different, softer, cleaner. My gaze dropped quickly, and my breath caught again as I took in what I was wearing, no longer the rough slave fabric but something simple and proper, something that didn’t mark me as property.

“I…” I hesitated, my hand gripping the fabric slightly as confusion filled me again, “These aren’t…”

“You were in slave clothes when we found you,” he said, answering before I could finish, he crossed his arms loosely over his chest, “It wasn’t hard to tell what you were.”

A flicker of shame passed through me, quick and sharp, but I pushed it down as I looked back up at him, forcing myself to meet his gaze despite everything.

“Your village,” he continued after a brief pause, his eyes narrowing slightly as if searching for something in my expression, “it was burned down too, wasn’t it?”

The question hit harder than I expected, and my throat tightened as the images returned, the fire, the screams, the bodies, and I nodded slowly, unable to trust my voice in that moment.

Silence settled between us for a few seconds, and then he spoke again, his tone softer this time but no less certain, “You’re safe here,” he said, and something in the way he said it made my chest tighten again, not with pain but with disbelief.

“Kael won’t reach my territory easily, not with my pack standing,” he added, his gaze steady on mine, “not now… not without a fight.”

The name alone sent a faint ripple through me, that weak, unsteady bond stirring again in my chest, and I swallowed hard as my fingers pressed lightly against the fabric over my heart, trying to ignore it, trying to focus on what was in front of me instead.

“You don’t understand,” I said quietly, my voice low but urgent as I shook my head slightly, “he will come… and when he does, it won’t just be me he comes for… it will be all of you,” the fear slipped into my words before I could stop it, because I knew what Kael was capable of, I had seen it with my own eyes, I had lived through the aftermath of his destruction.

His expression didn’t change much, but there was a subtle shift, a firmness that settled deeper into his posture as he held my gaze without hesitation.

“Then we’ll be ready,” he replied simply, as if the outcome was already decided, as if the idea of facing the Alpha King didn’t shake him the way it should have.

A small frown formed on my face as I studied him, trying to understand the confidence in his voice, and before I could stop myself, I asked, “Who are you…?”

He held my gaze for a moment longer before answering, “Alpha Ryker Thorne,” His presence somehow growing even stronger with the name, and I felt it then, faint but undeniable, the aura of power that surrounded him, different from Kael’s but no less real.

“I’ve had my eyes on Kael and Valerith for a long time,” he added, his tone thoughtful now, as if this wasn’t new to him, as if this had always been a matter of time.

My chest tightened slightly at that, my thoughts racing as I tried to piece everything together, but before I could ask anything else, he spoke again, his gaze softening just a fraction as it settled on me.

“You’ll tell me why you were out there, ready to die like that,” he said, not as a demand but as a certainty, “but not now… not until you’re stronger.”

I didn’t respond immediately, my fingers curling slightly into the fabric beneath me as I looked at him, really looked at him, trying to understand why someone like him would step in for someone like me, why he would risk anything at all.

It made no sense to me, but, I was glad he saved me.

“Thank you.”