Chapter 5: An Oath Beneath the Blizzard

"Get out of here and die with your trash!" the guard roared above the howling blizzard, followed by the heavy slam of the massive iron door locking tightly from inside.

BAM!

The echoing clang of the heavy hinges marked the end of my nightmare at the cursed Silvercrest villa. My world suddenly fell silent, save for the roaring night wind blowing thick snow crystals over my body.

I lay rigid atop the frozen snowbank. The flimsy medical gown I wore was torn and soaked in cold blood.

A deep numbness crept rapidly up from my toes, deadening every nerve in my joints. Severe postpartum hemorrhaging and the tearing in my pelvis turned the bite of the snow into the sensation of a million poisonous needles piercing my skin.

My vision blurred, spinning beneath the pitch-black night sky of Silver Falls.

Was I... going to die here?

My eyelids felt impossibly heavy, as if death itself was beckoning from the shadows. But just as my consciousness slipped toward the abyss of eternity...

Thump... thump... thump...

A tiny, rapid heartbeat fluttered softly right against my chest. The bundle inside the heavy coat clutched tight in my arms suddenly squirmed.

Waaah... waaah...

A faint cry, delicate as the chirp of a freezing songbird, sounded muffled from beneath the folds of my worn wool coat.

My little Leo shuddered against the cold.

The warm puff of his tiny breath against my skin sparked a massive shockwave within my soul. My closed eyes snapped open.

No!

I couldn't die in this cursed place!

My child had been brought into this world welcomed by no one. His father's pack deemed him defective and meant to toss him into an incinerator. If I let my eyes close tonight, this innocent baby would freeze into ice against my chest.

"Mommy's right here, baby..." I whispered raspily, my throat so parched it tasted of blood. "I'm not leaving you..."

Gathering the last shred of strength I possessed, I rolled my rigid body over in the snow. Every inch of movement felt like shattering my fractured pelvis all over again.

I dug my white knuckles into the freezing snowbank and began to crawl. Inch by inch, I dragged my helpless body across the deep blanket of white.

A trail of deep red blood seeped from beneath my gown, leaving a long crimson streak across the frozen ground. Ragged gasps escaped my blue lips, pluming into clouds of white steam in the night air.

The pain burned all the way to my nerve endings.

Yet every time I wanted to give up and surrender, the brush of Leo's breath against my chest forced my limbs to keep moving.

Roughly fifty yards away at the edge of the dark pine forest, the silhouette of an abandoned wooden shack stood among the trees—an old hunter's cabin, weathered and half-collapsed.

It was our only shelter from the storm threatening to claim our lives. Stifling a roar of agony in my chest, I dragged myself up the fragile wooden steps of the cabin.

BANG!

I collapsed across the threshold, kicking the wooden door shut with my heel to seal us off from the blizzard. The pitch darkness of the cabin engulfed us, but at least the freezing wind no longer bit into our skin.

I lay sprawling on the worn floorboards, gasping for air. With trembling, numb fingers, I unzipped my worn canvas bag lying beside me.

I pulled out an old cotton shirt and carefully swaddled little Leo's tiny frame. I gathered his shivering body tight against my chest, channeling every drop of my remaining warmth to keep him alive.

Leo slowly stopped crying, resting his small head in the crook of my neck. Hot tears spilled from my eyes, dripping onto his soft cheek.

Broken, humiliated, and discarded like meaningless trash.

But in this freezing old cabin, looking down at Leo's tiny fingers clutching my shirt, a fierce, unimaginable strength bloomed in my chest.

My wolf blood ignited, burning away every drop of despair. The weak, fearful, easily trampled Elora had died out on the snowbank tonight.

I lowered my head, pressing a soft kiss to Leo's tiny forehead, sobs racking my chest.

"Listen to my promise, Leo..." I whispered raspily, a mother's vow echoing firmly in the quiet cabin. "I swear I will survive for you. I will grow into a powerful woman and the greatest medical expert."

I squeezed the cloth swaddling my son until my knuckles turned white.

"I will never let that cruel man, or anyone from their cursed pack, ever touch or hurt you again!"

Six years later.

The morning sun cast warm rays through the branches of the pine trees in the outer district of Silver Falls. The soothing scent of Golden Petal extract, menthol leaves, and aromatic herbs filled the fresh air.

"Elora! Uncle Budi's nerve-soothing remedy is all packed up!" a cheerful female voice called from the apothecary counter.

Maya Vance stepped out of the herb-drying room, holding a glass bottle filled with clear green liquid.

Maya's face looked vibrant, her cheeks flushed with health, and the dark veins from the rare wolf blood disorder had disappeared without a trace. The plasma isolation surgery six years ago—paid for with my blood and tears—had completely cured her.

I smiled warmly from behind the examination counter at the Sanctum Clinic—a cozy two-story wooden building I built through years of grueling hard work.

"Thank you, Maya. Please set it on the front shelf," I replied, organizing a patient's medical chart.

I was no longer that helpless, pitied orphan girl.

Through my knowledge of rare wolf herbs and sheer resilience from building a life from scratch, Sanctum Clinic was now widely renowned across Silver Falls as the most trusted herbal healing center for minor packs and local townsfolk.

"Mom! Look what I caught in the backyard!"

An energetic voice shattered the peaceful quiet of the clinic.

A six-year-old boy bounded through the doorway with a wide, toothy grin.

Leo.

He carried the striking, aristocratic looks of his bloodline—a sharp jawline despite his young age, piercing golden-brown eyes shining with intelligence, and a natural aura of confidence.

A blue-winged butterfly rested gently on his small, cupped hand.

"Leo! How many times have I told you not to jump around inside the clinic?" I scolded with playful sternness, though my heart melted at the sight of my handsome boy.

"But I moved really slowly, Mom! So I wouldn't scare the butterfly!" Leo protested, scrunching his nose in an adorable, mischievous pout.

"You sound just like your mother when she's making excuses," Maya chuckled, ruffling Leo's thick black hair.

I gazed at Leo, overflowing with boundless gratitude. He had grown into a brilliant, healthy boy who was fiercely protective of me. He was the brightest light in my life.

But the peaceful life we had built over the years was suddenly shattered that afternoon.

The chime above the clinic door rang loudly as a middle-aged male patient from a local wolf pack rushed inside, out of breath.

"Dr. Elora! You have to see this!" the man exclaimed, placing a sheet of heavy parchment with gold trim onto my counter.

I frowned, looking down at the lavishly printed official decree.

"What is it, Uncle Thomas? What kind of announcement is this?" I asked calmly.

"Downtown Silver Falls is in total chaos, Doctor!" Uncle Thomas said, his face tense. "The Silvercrest Pack just issued an exclusive, top-tier medical request!"

My heart hammered wildly against my ribs at the mention of that pack.

"A search for a healer?" Maya muttered, stepping closer to the counter.

"Not just any search!" Uncle Thomas cut in hurriedly. "Alpha Kaelen Blackwood's only son is in a mysterious critical condition! His body is rejecting all the pack doctors' treatments, and the boy is raging violently, refusing to let anyone touch him!"

Uncle Thomas pointed to the bottom of the parchment.

"Any doctor or herbalist who can cure the Alpha's son will receive a staggering reward and total protection from the Silvercrest Pack!"

My fingers turned ice-cold. Lips draining of color, I reached out for the gold-trimmed parchment.

My eyes locked onto the raised emblem at the top of the paper—a silver wolf head howling proudly under a crescent moon.

The official crest of the Silvercrest Pack.

Bitter memories rushed back in a crushing wave—the dark penthouse night, the agonizing labor in the dim basement, and my second child ripped from my arms six years ago. My chest burned, suffocating me.

My hand trembled as I clutched the official decree, my eyes glued to the wolf crest: The Silvercrest Pack... the pack belonging to that cold-blooded man six years ago.