LUCIAN’S POV
The border camp was quiet, and the tension of the past few days were finally beginning to ease.
Rourke’s forces had withdrawn, just as I had ordered, and the patrols had reported no further incursions.
It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
I stood at the edge of the camp with Jace and a few of my senior warriors, with a map spread across a wooden table in front of us.
The morning sun was just beginning to rise over the distant mountains, which casted long shadows across the rocky terrain.
“The withdrawal is complete,” Captain Aldric reported, pointing to the marked territories on the map.
“Rourke’s forces have retreated to their side of the border.
But we can not assume this is over.
He will try again.”
I nodded, studying the map carefully.
“He will.
But now we have time to prepare.
We will reinforce the patrols along the ridge and set up watchtowers at key points.
If he tries anything, we will see him coming.”
Jace leaned forward, his eyes scanning the map, and suggested, “What about a formal treaty?
Rourke will never agree to it unless it benefits him.”
I smiled coldly and said, “Then we make it beneficial.
We offer trade agreements and open borders for commerce.
But we make it clear that any violation will result in immediate consequences.”
Captain Aldric raised an eyebrow.
“You think he will accept that?”
“I think he will have no choice,” I said simply.
“He may not admit it, but he lost this round.
He needs time to regroup.
A treaty gives him that time — and gives us the chance to prepare.”
The soldiers exchanged glances, and I saw a flicker of respect in their eyes.
They had seen me handle the situation.
They had seen me stand my ground.
Jace gave a low whistle and tapped my shoulders lightly.
“King of the border strikes again.”
I shot him a look and hissed, “Focus.”
“I am focused,” Jace said, grinning.
“I am focused on how terrifying you look when you are talking strategy.
It is almost like you know what you are doing.”
“I do know what I am doing,” I said dryly.
“That is the problem.”
Captain Aldric chuckled despite himself.
“I will have the watchtowers set up by the end of the week, Alpha.”
“Good,” I said, rolling up the map.
“And prepare a draft of the treaty terms.
I will review it when we return to the palace.”
Before anyone could respond, a loud cry went up from the edge of the camp.
“Alpha!
Alpha, come quickly!
A soldier is down!”
Jace and I sprinted toward the commotion, and saw small crowd of soldiers gathered around a young wolf lying on the ground, whose face was pale, and his hands clutching a deep wound in his side.
Blood was pooling beneath him, soaking into the dirt.
“What happened?” I demanded, kneeling beside him.
“An ambush, Alpha,” one of the soldiers said, his voice shaking.
“A patrol was attacked near the ridge.
They came out of nowhere and then disappeared.
We did not even see them coming.”
I looked at the young soldier.
“He is losing too much blood.
He needs immediate care.”
Jace was already calling for a stretcher.
“We need to get him back to the palace clinic.
Now.” He said hurriedly.
I helped lift the young soldier onto the stretcher, my hands steady despite the urgency.
“Move quickly.
Don’t stop for anything.”
We rushed through the forest, the stretcher bouncing with each step, the young soldier’s groans filling the air.
I pushed myself faster, my mind focused on one thing: getting him to the clinic in time.
But even as I ran, I could not stop thinking about her.
About Nora.
About the last words we had exchanged.
About the way she had looked at me like she was breaking.
I shook my head and forced myself to focus.
There would be time for that later.
Right now, a life was at stake.
We burst through the doors of the clinic, the noise of our arrival echoing through the room.
The stretcher was set down quickly, and I stepped back to give the healers room to work.
And then I caught it.
Her scent.
It was faint at first, barely noticeable beneath the smell of blood and sweat.
But then it hit me again — warm, familiar, unmistakable.
Nora.
My heart stopped, and my breath caught in my throat.
I looked up, my eyes scanning the room, and there she was.
She was already in motion, rushing toward the stretcher, her hands reaching out to check the soldier’s wounds.
Her voice was calm and steady, cutting through the chaos like a blade.
“Move!
Get him to the back room!
Someone bring me clean cloths and water!
Now!”
I could not move.
I could not speak.
I could only stare at her, watching her work, her hands steady and sure, her focus entirely on the patient in front of her.
She was beautiful.
She was always beautiful.
But seeing her like this—strong, capable, in control, and it took my breath away.
She did not notice me at first.
She was too focused on the soldier, too focused on saving his life.
But then she looked up, her eyes scanning the room, and she froze.
Our eyes met, and the world stopped.
I stared at her, my heart pounding, my voice caught in my throat.
She was right there, inches away, and I could not find the words to speak.
But before I could even try, she turned back to the soldier, her hands already moving, her focus already shifting.
And I was left standing there, frozen, watching her save a life while I struggled to remember how to breathe.
The minutes stretched into what felt like hours.
I stood frozen, watching her, waiting.
I could hear the faint sound of her voice from the emergency ward, calm and steady, giving instructions to the other healers.
She was in her element.
And I was helpless.
Her hands were slightly red from the blood she had washed off, and there was a strand of hair clinging to her damp forehead.
She looked tired but relieved.
She looked up and met my eyes.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
“He is going to be okay,” she said softly, her voice carrying across the room.
“He is stable now.
He will need rest, but he will recover.”
I felt a wave of relief wash over me.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice rough.
She gave a small nod, and dropped her eyes to the floor.
“It is my job.”
I wanted to say more.
I wanted to tell her that she had done more than her job.
That she had saved a life, a young wolf with a family waiting for him.
But the words stuck in my throat.
She finished her work and stepped back from the bed.
She clasped her hands together, and I noticed they were trembling.
I felt a pang of something raw and painful in my chest.
She turned and walked toward the door, her steps quick and determined.
She was going to walk right past me without a word.
I could not let that happen.
My hand shot out and caught her wrist before I could think.
Her skin was warm and soft under my fingers, and I felt her freeze at my touch.
The silence was unbearable, and I could hear my own heart pounding in my ears.
“Have you missed me?” I asked, my voice low and rough.
She did not turn around.
“That is not fair,” she said, her voice cracking.
I stepped closer, feeling the heat of her body just inches away.
“Fair?” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Nora, I have spent every day since I left thinking about you.
Every night, I lay awake wondering if you were okay.
If you were thinking about me too.”
She shook her head, and said in a trembling voice.
“You should not have been thinking about me, Lucian.
You should have been focusing on your pack.”
“Do not tell me what I should have been doing,” I said, my voice low and raw.
“I know what I should have been doing.
But I could not help it.”
I gently turned her around to face me, my hand still wrapped around her wrist.
Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her her lips were trembling.
She looked like she was about to break.
“Did you think about me?” I asked again.
“Even for a moment?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
Then she looked at me, her eyes searching mine, and I saw the answer before she could say it.
She had missed me too.
I stood there, her wrist still in my hand, and my heart pounding so loud I was sure she could hear it.
She did not answer.
She did not have to.
But I could see it in her eyes — she had missed me too.
I leaned in closer, my lips brushing against her ear, and whispered, “I will see you at the palace.”
Then I released her wrist, turned, and walked out of the clinic without looking back.