Alpha Prince's forgotten love

(SHEILA’S POV)

As I set out to gather herbs for our haven, the bright blue sky lifted my spirits. I took a sip from my leather canteen, the cool water soothing my parched throat. Glancing around, I couldn't help but wonder what delicious breakfast the community would prepare with the fresh herbs I was collecting.

Earlier, before dawn had even broken, the head chef had approached me, requesting more nettles for the soup. I made a mental note of it and now, as I surveyed the extra bundles of nettles alongside my herb-filled basket, I felt a sense of accomplishment. Today's gathering had been successful, and I had managed to avoid any encounters with cougars, thanks to the new hunter patrol route established by the haven a few nights ago.

With a smile, I sealed my leather canteen shut, then reached for my finely woven pine needle strands veil. Carefully, I secured its strands over my head, hiding the deep burnt scar that marred my face, a reminder of my resilience against the toxic touch of wolfsbane.

As I prepared to lift my herb basket, my human ears tuned toward the faint sounds of rustling leaves, followed by a soft thud. Though human in appearance, my ears possessed a heightened sensitivity, a testament to my unique heritage of both human and werewolf traits. Despite the forest sounds, I discerned not the threatening roars of cougars or bears, but instead, a weak and pained wolf whine—the cry of my own wolf kind.

In one swift motion, I gathered my belongings, sensing urgency in the air. With determination, I set off to follow the source of the commotion, ready to offer aid to a fellow wolf in need.

Worry mingled with curiosity, propelling me deeper into the forest, oblivious to the boundary of the hunters' patrol area. I pushed aside thoughts of getting lost; my instincts assured me I could find my way back home. The scent of pine resin, mixed with flowers and a strong undertone of lavender, would guide me onward.

Soon enough, I stumbled upon the scene I had unconsciously sought. In the shadows beneath the towering pines, a figure lay sprawled across the forest floor, both familiar and unknown. His clothes were tattered, his skin marred with bruises and scars. He resembled nothing so much as a discarded rag, left to wither midst the forest's embrace. If not for the pained groan that escaped his lips, I might have remained frozen in shock for minutes on end.

Rushing to his side, my auburn hair flowing behind me, I found my luggage offering zero restriction to my movement. Kneeling beside the figure, I gently shook his shoulder, my heart racing with concern.

"Hey, can you hear me? Wake up," I urged softly.

Another groan escaped him as he stirred, his eyes fluttering open briefly before narrowing in confusion and frustration. When he spoke, his voice dripped with anger, authority, and arrogance, sending a chill down my spine. "You!"

The sound of his voice triggered a memory I had fought to bury, stunning me into frozen silence. Fear replaced concern as disbelief washed over me. I stumbled backward, attempting to distance myself from him, but his unyielding grip on my wrist prevented my escape.

In the sudden movement, the shoulder strap of my herb basket snapped, its contents spilling out onto the forest floor.

I squirmed, desperate to break free from the heavy weight pressing down on me, pinning me to the unforgiving earth. Sweat and fear hung thick in the air, mingling with the sharp scent of pine needles and damp soil. "Let go of me!" I screamed, my voice a desperate plea echoing into the night.

My heart raced as I relived the terror of that night, the feeling of powerlessness as I struggled against my assailant. The memory gripped me like a cruel specter, refusing to release its hold.

The stranger loomed over me, his breath ragged with exhaustion and pain. "You will pay for pushing me into that cliff!" His words were laced with accusation, and confusion swirled in my mind. What did he mean by pushing him?

Through tear-blurred eyes, I looked up at him, curiosity replacing fear. His face, pale beneath the trickle of blood, mirrored my own distress. Doubt crept in as I studied him, realizing that he, too, seemed shaken and afraid.

As exhaustion seemed to overcome the stranger, his grip on me gradually loosened. His voice trembled as he muttered, "C-cold... it's so cold..."

Feeling the hold on my arms weaken, I seized the opportunity and pushed against him. Despite his resistance, his weakened state betrayed him, causing him to stumble and fall to the side. In a last-ditch effort, he lunged and wrapped his arms around my waist, as if trying to prevent me from escaping.

I shouted, my mind still clouded with anxiety, but enough clarity remained to realize that the stranger lacked the strength to harm me. "Please, let me go," I said calmly, my voice carrying a firm but compassionate tone.

Yet, the stranger refused to release me. His grip tightened, desperation evident in his actions.

Helpless, I could only watch as the man locked my movements with his grasp around my waist. Once more, I observed his trembling body and ragged breath, evoking a fleeting sense of sympathy within me. Gathering my resolve, I took a deep breath and steeled myself, my arms encircling Orion in a gesture of comfort. "Hey, I'm not here to harm you, I promise. Would you please let me go first? You're injured, I'll patch you up for a bit."

Orion looked up, his crystal blue eyes soft yet penetrating, seeming to see through the veil and into my soul. Relenting, he broke through the silence, his plea for connection though the chaos of his mind evident. "Who are you?" he inquired softly, slowly leaning backwards, releasing me from his grasp.

"Just some stranger gathering herbs in the woods," I calmly answered, finding more courage to meet his gaze. "And you? Who are you? What's your name?" My arms gently rested on his, conveying both reassurance and curiosity.

The stranger scrunched his face, his gaze shifting sideways in contemplation. "Who am I…" he trailed off, his hand instinctively clutching his head as he groaned in pain. "Orion," he said hesitantly. "My name is... Orion..." His breath grew heavy, his distress evident. Suddenly, without warning, the man leaned forward and passed out.

I easily caught him, concern etched on my face. "Hey!" I tried to shake him awake once more, but it was clear he had fainted. Realizing the urgency, I knew I had to bring the stranger back to the haven as soon as possible.

--

In the quiet solitude of my hut, I had prepared fresh cloths, two sterile makeshift blades, and tweezers, readying myself for the task at hand. With practiced ease, I set to work, meticulously crafting antiseptic salve from the remaining herbs I had managed to bring home with me. These skills were not merely acquired; they were the fruit of my voluntary work at the haven's healer hut, where I dedicated myself to tending to the injuries of hunters and inhabitants alike.

Once I was done with my medicine preparation, I reached out to the fainted stranger on my bed and tore open his upper clothes to assess his wounds. At that moment, Orion's eyes snapped open, his gaze wary and alert. Without warning, he seized my hand with a swift movement, his voice laced with suspicion as he demanded answers.

Once I finished preparing the medicine, I turned my attention to the fainted stranger lying on my bed. His clothes were in disarray, stained with brown soil and torn from his journey through the forest canopy. Despite the chaos, a fang-shaped sapphire pendant caught my eye, its vibrant blue standing out against the ruggedness of his attire. Carefully, I tore open his upper clothes to assess his wounds. Suddenly, the stranger's eyes snapped open, his gaze sharp and cautious. In a swift motion, he seized my hand, his voice filled with suspicion as he demanded answers.

"What do you think you're doing?" Orion asked gruffly, his breaths coming in between his words.