As the Alpha of Blackwood, my judgments were always shrouded in stoic leadership. Yet, as I lingered in the shadowed infirmary, watching Delta, our healer, meticulously tend to an injured woman, my instincts surged with a protective ferocity. Delta's expertise was a comfort—she assured me of the woman's recovery—but unease gnawed at me.
Distracted by Lance's urgent call through our pack's telepathic bond, I was informed of a captured female shifter. Duty propelled me from the healer's side to seek the truth. Leaving the infirmary, I implored Delta to keep me abreast of any changes.
Approaching the pack's heart—the pack house—my mind spun with questions. Who was this shifter? Why trespass on our land? What link might she have to the rogue assault?
The interrogation room revealed her beneath the cascade of a shower, cleansing herself of the grime and blood of her ordeal. She was an lithe figure, her fragile form contrasting with the resilience in her stance. Offering a towel as she concluded, our gazes locked—a blend of vulnerability and veiled determination.
I wrestled with a primal protectiveness, unfamiliar and disarming. This woman evoked an innate allure, yet I steeled myself with the mantle of Alpha authority.
"Who are you?" My tone was a calibrated balance of command and consideration.
"Lia," her response was a whisper of defiance.
Her name, a simple syllable, resonated with an unexpected significance. "Lia," I echoed, etching it into my consciousness. "Why were you in Blackwood territory?"
Her eyes flickered, a silent dance of inner turmoil. "I don't know," she murmured, her voice a delicate tremor.
Intuition whispered of untold stories behind her words. Yet I tempered my approach, seeking a path through her reticence. "You were found near a rogue attack. Anything you can recall may aid us," I coaxed, softening my voice.
Tears brimmed, betraying her strife. "It's all hazy... there was a man... he bit me."
I absorbed her fragmented confession, giving her the space to breathe, to gather the scattered pieces of her memory. "Take your time," I offered, a gentle nudge. "Anything else? Any detail could be pivotal."
Her next words were suffused with vulnerability. "I remember... there was a guy and a girl with him."
Lance and I shared a glance heavy with implication. The possibility of what she was suggesting loomed over us like a gathering storm.
A primal instinctual urge to shield her warred with my duty to the pack. "You weren't a shifter before this encounter?" I probed, dreading the confirmation of my suspicion.
Her eyes were a silent testament to her newfound reality.
"Could she be a 'made-wolf'?" Erin's voice was tinged with disbelief through our mental link, mirroring the shock that rippled through me.
YOU ARE READING
Run Little Wolf
WerewolfLia's life was miserable. She existed to give her abusive boyfriend whatever he wanted. She was too weak to fight back. Until one night everything changed. Bitten on the night of a blood moon-changed by a group of rogues- she's done being weak an...
