I pressed my spine hard against the soft leather backrest, my breath coming in short, ragged hitches as the Blood Moon warriors closed the door.
Through the dark, one-way tinted window of the SUV, the entire courtyard looked like a silent horror movie.
I couldn’t hear a single thing over the roaring quiet inside the vehicle, but I kept my left ear tilted toward the glass anyway, desperately trying to catch any vibration.
Out in the dirt, Alpha Richard was kneeling on the sharp gravel, his face twisted in absolute pain as Alpha Alexander stood over him like a giant shadow.
I watched my worst nightmare shrink into a small, pathetic coward, and I was completely out of his reach where he couldn’t hurt me or curse me out.
The suffocating weight of his constant presence, the terrifying echo of his boots down the hallway, and the daily fear of his unpredictable rage suddenly felt hundreds of miles away.
Even though I was separated from the gravel yard by only a thick sheet of reinforced glass, it felt like an unbreakable shield.
His fist connected with Alpha Richard’s face.
The force of the blow made the his head snap violently backward, his teeth cutting into his lip as a fresh spray of crimson hit the gray stones.
I must have been so distracted that I didn’t notice when the other side of the door behind me was opened.
A soft click of a lock and a rush of cool air swept through the opposite side of the vehicle, but my focus had been so entirely glued to the unfolding violence that the sudden shift in my environment caught me completely off guard.
I felt someone touch my arms and my muscles locked up instantly.
I braced my arms over my face, expecting a harsh slap or a sudden beating.
I was so used to them attacking me whenever I was cornered that my body moved on pure survival memory.
My chin tucked automatically into my chest, my shoulders hunched to protect my fragile throat, and I braced for the heavy impact of a fist or the stinging burn of a whip against my raw skin.
“Hi, I shouldn’t have scared you like that, right?
I am very sorry.” The voice said cheerfully.
The tone was entirely unexpected.
It wasn’t the gravelly, harsh bark of anyone I knew or the mocking, high-pitched sneer of Celia.
It was soft, light, and carried an undercurrent of genuine warmth that felt completely out of place in a war zone.
“My name is Hazel.
I am a doctor.
What is your name?” she asked.
I slowly removed my arms from my face and took a good look at her.
It was a lady dressed in the most beautiful gown I have ever seen.
The fabric was a soft, flowing pastel color that looked cleaner and softer than anything I had touched in nine long years.
She had the most beautiful, big blue eyes and bright blonde hair that fell in perfect, neat waves around her shoulders.
She was just perfect, and her smile was catchy, something you wouldn’t mind seeing as the last thing on earth before you died.
She was a stern-looking wolf beneath her gentle exterior, possessing the unmistakable, solid structure of a high-ranking Blood Moon member, but her eyes held a quiet, deep sadness as she looked at my split eyebrow and discolored cheekbone.
She didn’t raise her hand to strike me.
She didn’t move aggressively or reach out to tear my shirt away to inspect the damage.
Instead, she reached into a stainless-steel medical kit resting beside the leather seat and pulled out a small, clean antiseptic pad and a fresh roll of white bandages.
She smiled at me again, and I was pretty sure I was looking at her like a lovesick puppy.
She had that exact effect on me.
My bruised jaw went slightly slack as I stared, completely fascinated by the lack of hostility radiating from her.
In my world, powerful wolves only looked at me with disgust or volatile anger.
To have a beautiful, high-ranking female look at me with kindness was a shock to my entire system.
“You still haven’t answered me yet, you know, and it is rude to ignore people,” she said again, smiling.
Her voice lacked any real edge or threat; she was simply teasing me, trying to coax a response from my frozen lips.
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out.
My vocal cords felt dry and locked, entirely uncooperative after all the screaming and the heavy trauma of everything that had happened.
I just lowered my head and stared hard at my hands, watching the soap stains on my raw knuckles and the dirt embedded under my nails.
“Alright, no rush there.
You don’t have to tell me your name now,” Hazel murmured softly, her fingers working efficiently as she prepared the medical supplies.
She didn’t force me to speak, and she didn’t growl at my submissive silence.
“Be still, little one,” she spoke in a calm, low voice.
I flinched backward when she stepped closer, my shoulder jamming hard into the leather armrest.
The sudden proximity triggered another wave of panic, my survival instincts screaming that anyone who got this close was bound to inflict pain.
“Don’t…
please,” I tried to say, my voice coming out as a raspy, broken whisper that I barely recognized.
The words scratched against my throat, sounding hollow and weak in the quiet interior of the vehicle.
Hazel stopped immediately, keeping her hands completely visible so I wouldn’t panic.
She held her palms open, freezing her movements in mid-air to show me that she wasn’t a threat.
“No one in this vehicle is going to hurt you.
You are under the official protection of the Blood Moon Pack now.
Your pack cannot touch you ever again,” she said, her voice firm and full of an absolute certainty that made my heart stutter.
“Secondly, ohh, so you do talk?
That’s nice.
I like your voice, by the way,” she said, raising her hand as if to surrender, a soft chuckle bubbling in her throat.
She moved slowly, centimeter by centimeter, gently pressing the cool, wet antiseptic pad against my torn eyebrow.
The chemical sting was sharp and white-hot, making eye water, but the relief was immediate, washing over the burning, inflamed skin of my face.
I was experiencing what actual medical care felt like for the very first time in my life.
No one was screaming at me for wasting expensive pack supplies.
No one was telling me I deserved the pain because of my cursed luck or my lack of a wolf.
Hazel worked with a meticulous, quiet rhythm, her touch incredibly light as she smoothed a soothing, clear gel over my swollen cheekbone before wrapping a light, clean bandage around my forehead to secure the gash at the back of my skull, as the last one I had put on was damp with sweat and old blood.
Every movement she made was precise, treating my broken body like something worth saving rather than a piece of trash to be thrown into the dirt.
While she worked on my injuries, I kept my left eye fixed tightly on the tinted glass, watching the silent struggle unfolding in the dirt outside.
Alpha Richard was trying desperately to stand up on his shaking legs, his mouth moving rapidly as he undoubtedly threw more desperate lies, fake excuses, and whatever into the air.
He looked smaller now, stripped entirely of the grand, terrifying illusion of power he always wore like a cloak inside the packhouse.
The crown had fallen off his head, and he was nothing but a cornered animal trying to talk his way out of an execution.
Alpha Alexander didn’t look like he was listening to a single word of his pathetic explanation.
He didn’t pace around the yard, and he didn’t waste his breath shouting back at the coward.
He stood perfectly still, a massive, unyielding monument of dark fury right in the center of our valley.
Suddenly, with a movement so impossibly fast my eyes could barely track the mechanics of it, Alexander’s massive arm flashed forward again.
His fist connected directly with Alpha Richard’s jaw.
Even through the soundproof, reinforced glass of the vehicle, I felt a low, heavy vibration rattle right through the metal frame of the car as Alpha Richard’s body was lifted completely off his feet by the force of the impact.
He crashed heavily into the sharp stones of the driveway, his leather jacket sliding through the gray dust as he skattered across the courtyard like a broken toy.
The Silver Ridge warriors standing on the porch didn’t move an inch to help him.
They didn’t growl, they didn’t bared their teeth, and they didn’t step off the wood.
They stood completely frozen, their heads bowed low in absolute submission as Alexander walked forward, his boots stepping directly over Alpha Richard’s shattered body.
Hazel finished securing the clean tape on my forearm, her eyes briefly darting toward the window to watch the conclusion of the strike before she looked back down at me.
“The Alpha is thorough,” she murmured softly, her voice holding a distinct edge of pride.
“He does not tolerate those who break the Council’s laws, especially those who hide behind a title to destroy the innocent.”
She set the medical scissors back into her stainless-steel kit, then turned her full attention back to my posture.
“So, how bad do the ribs hurt?
In a scale of 1-10?” she asked me again, her thumb gently hovering near my side without touching the sore spots.
“8,” I said when I finally found my voice, the syllable coming out a little stronger this time.
“It hurts a lot.”
“That is expected,” she said, her eyebrows knitting together in concern.
“There isn’t much I can do for you right now until we get back to the infirmary where we have the proper equipment.
I can only give you temporary relief.”
She leaned back slightly against the opposite seat, her big blue eyes studying the discoloration around my face.
“How long have you been nursing these injuries?” she asked.
“4 days, I think,” I replied, my voice dropping back into a quiet murmur.
“You think?” she asked, tilting her head in confusion.
“I have been unconscious for the four days, so…” I lowered my head again, my eyes tracking the hem of my worn shirt.
I didn’t want to explain the Alpha’s involvement in what happened to me so I kept the answer short.
“Well, my dad will know exactly what to do when we get back to the pack territory.
He is the official pack doctor, and I am more like an assistant in training,” she said, looking at me with a soft expression.
She reached out, her fingers warm and gentle as she closed them around my hands.
“I am so sorry for everything that happened to you here, but not to worry, we will take care of you from now on,” she said with a sad, comforting smile, holding tightly onto my hands to anchor me to the present.
I smiled weakly at her, a tiny, unfamiliar stretching of my facial muscles, and nodded my head.
The warmth of her grip felt real, solid, and safe.
She closed the lid of the stainless-steel medical kit with a sharp click and turned around to leave the seat.
“Ella.
My name is Ella,” I said suddenly, the words leaving my lips before I could even think about stopping them.
I wanted her to know.
I wanted someone in this new world to call me by my actual name.
Hazel paused, turning her head back around, her smile widening.
“Well, Ella, it is very nice meeting you.”
“Thank you for everything,” I said, my left ear straining to catch the soft tone of my own gratitude.
She smiled and looked straight into my eyes, her blue gaze bright and steady.
“It was no biggie, and you are welcome.” She smiled one last time before stepping out of the vehicle, walking away from the car and closing the side door firmly behind her.
I turned back to continue looking at the drama unfolding outside of the car glass, my eyes fixed on the yard.
Alpha Alexander gave Alpha Richard one more heavy punch to the face before turning away from the groveling, bleeding form of the Silver Ridge leader.
Alpha Richard lay flat in the dirt, clutching his broken jaw, his face covered in dust and blood.
My very own nightmare, the untouchable god of my childhood, was being broken like a fragile twig right before my eyes, and I didn’t have to lift a single finger to make it happen.
Someone else was doing the heavy lifting for me, fighting a battle I was too weak to fight, and for that, I was deeply, profoundly grateful to Alpha Alexander.
He had stepped between me and the monster without hesitation.
He didn’t look back down at the groveling Alpha, and he also didn’t grant the trembling Silver Ridge members on the porch a single glance.
He walked with a slow, deliberate stride straight toward the vehicle, pulling a clean white cloth from his trouser pocket to wipe the fresh, bright red blood off his massive knuckles as he approached.
The door of the vehicle from my side suddenly clicked open, and a sharp blast of the freezing afternoon air rushed back into the cabin, shattering the soundproof isolation.
The silence inside was broken.
Alpha Alexander stood in the open doorway, his towering frame completely blocking out the sun.
His shirt was slightly rumpled, and his chest heaved with slow, measured breaths.
He looked down at me, his pitch-black eyes searching my face.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his deep baritone voice washing over me.
I nodded my head yes, my fingers gripping the leather seat.”Can you stand and walk okay?”
I nodded again, forcing my legs to slide toward the edge of the seat to prove that I could move.
“Good,” he said, his expression remaining serious and unreadable.
“Okay, Ella, we need to get inside the packhouse.
I need to make an official call to the High Priest Council.
Don’t worry, I am not leaving you alone.”
I stepped out of the car, my feet hitting the sharp gravel.
My body was still incredibly fragile, and my side burned with every movement, but the fear was gone.
I stepped forward and followed right behind his broad shoulders as he walked back toward the entrance of the packhouse.
By now, nearly everyone inside the Silver Ridge territory had already run outside or clustered around the windows to see what the massive circus was all about.
Dozens of eyes, warriors, omegas, and high-ranking wolves were staring at us in absolute shock, watching the wolf-less freak walk alongside the executioner.
I felt the weight of their judgment, but then Alexander shifted his weight, his massive frame blocking me completely from their sight.
“Stay right behind me, Ella,” he commanded quietly, his voice an iron shield that locked me into his shadow as we crossed the threshold.
Okay Hazel we see you…..
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