Chapter 3

Sloane's POV

Finding my new life wasn't easy. But thank Goddess, Gaia helped me managed to find a small cabin on the edge of wolf pack territory for just one silver coin a month, and then I spent days job hunting with nothing but rejections. The bakery, grocery store, even the tavern, everyone had the same excuse about my appearance "hurting business." My old classmates made it worse, publicly mocking me in the square. Gaia asked if I wanted to work at her shop, but I said no. Her shop doesn't really need anyone else, and she's already helped me out so much. I don't want to be a pain in the ass for her.

Just when I thought Victoria might be right about me being worthless, I saw the clinic's job posting. Dr. Harris gave me a chance as his medical assistant after I correctly diagnosed a patient's problem. Ten copper coins a day wasn't much, but it was hope.

Now, a few days into the job, I was finally starting to believe I could make this work.

"Sloane, you handled everything perfectly today," Dr. Harris said while organizing medical records. "That elderly woman's circulation problem, if you hadn't caught it in time..."

"Just doing my job." I shrugged, grabbing my bag. "See you tomorrow, Dr. Harris."

"Have a good evening, Sloane."

When I left the clinic, the sky was dark with thick clouds, the air heavy with the oppressive feeling before a storm.

"Looks like it's gonna pour." I pulled my coat tighter and quickened my pace home.

Halfway there, fat raindrops began pelting my face. Within minutes, the sky cracked open like a broken dam, water cascading down. I could only cover my head and run, rain quickly soaking through my clothes.

"CRASH—"

Lightning tore through the night sky, followed by deafening thunder. Just as I neared my cabin, a weak moan reached my ears, barely audible over the rain.

"Mmph..."

I stopped dead, heart racing. Did I hear that wrong? The rain was too loud; I almost doubted my own ears.

Another moan, weaker this time, like someone desperately calling for help. Someone's hurt?

Don't go, Sloane. This late at night, what good could be in the forest? Logic told me to hurry home. But my instincts wouldn't let me turn away.

I fumbled toward the source of the sound, rain blurring my vision, branches constantly scraping my face and arms. The muddy ground was slippery and treacherous; I nearly fell several times.

"Where are you..." I called out while searching, my voice pathetically weak in the storm.

Just as I was about to give up, lightning illuminated the forest again. In that instant, I saw it, under a massive oak tree charred by lightning, a figure curled up by the roots.

I rushed over, my knees hitting the mud hard. The sight before me nearly made me vomit.

A young man, covered in blood, with a terrible gash across his chest still pumping blood. His shirt was torn to shreds, revealing intricate black tattoos now stained crimson.

The heavy scent of blood mixed with rain hit my nostrils, making my stomach churn. Stay calm, Sloane! You have the training for this!

With trembling hands, I reached for his neck. His pulse was so weak I could barely feel it, his breathing rapid and shallow. His skin was ice-cold and pale, lips already turning blue.

He's dying.

"Hang on, I'll save you." I shouted into his ear, not knowing if he could hear me.

Getting him back to the cabin was a nightmare. He was too heavy, bigger and stronger than any man I'd ever seen. When I tried to drag him, I slipped and fell in the mud first, my knee hitting a rock so hard tears sprang to my eyes.

I gritted my teeth and stood back up, wrapping my arms under his and pulling backward. Every few steps I had to stop and gasp for air, my arms aching like they might snap. Rain and mud covered my face, but I didn't dare stop.

Finally, finally, I dragged him into the cabin. I collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath, my whole body shaking.

What do I do now? Looking at the blood flowing from his chest, all my medical knowledge rushed back. I quickly stripped off my soaked, filthy clothes and washed my hands and arms thoroughly with soap and hot water. Then I threw on clean clothes and gathered all my medical supplies.

In the light, I began cleaning his wounds. The gash was deep and jagged, like it had been torn open by some sharp weapon.

"Goddess..." I sucked in a sharp breath. With wounds this severe, if I'd been just a little later, he would have bled to death.

While suturing, my hands kept wanting to tremble, but I fought to steady myself and focused on each stitch.. Outside, the storm still raged, wind and rain mixing with my ragged breathing, the whole cabin trembling in this terrifying night.

Two hours later, I finally finished treating all his wounds. My medical supplies were almost gone, and my clothes were stained with blood.

His breathing had finally stabilized somewhat, but his temperature was still high. I applied wet towels to bring down his fever, then finally allowed myself to collapse into the chair beside the bed. My whole body ached, and exhaustion was hitting me like a truck. But I couldn't sleep, not yet. I needed to monitor him through the night.

And I called Dr. Harris. "Dr. Harris, it's me, Sloane. I... I think I'm coming down with something. Can I take tomorrow off to rest?"

"Of course, take care of yourself."

I needed to stay home and monitor his condition. If his fever spiked or the wounds reopened...

The next morning, I made some simple breakfast, then quietly opened the bedroom door to check on him.

He was still sleeping, breathing steady and regular. For the first time since I'd found him, I could actually look at him without worrying about keeping him alive.

Oh my Goddess... I thought, carefully setting down the breakfast tray. He's so gorgeous.

He was lying there, pale as hell, with this nasty bruise on his forehead. But honestly, even looking like absolute crap, the guy was still hot. Broad shoulders, muscles that were just right, not too bulky, you know? And I could see some black ink peeking out from his left shoulder down to his chest.

His face was like, really defined, but he looked so worn out right now. Dark hair all messy and stuck to his forehead, stubble that looked like he hadn't shaved in days. His clothes were all torn up but you could tell they were nice—expensive, probably. Through the holes I could see more scars, more tattoos.

He definitely wasn't from around here. Everything about him just felt... off? Too polished for our middle-of-nowhere pack. I kept staring at him, feeling this weird flutter in my stomach. Couldn't figure out if I was just curious or if it was something else.

I was staring at his literally perfect face so hard that I totally missed when his breathing changed.

His eyes suddenly snapped open, those black eyes now completely alert. He shot upright fast, scanning the room before those sharp black eyes locked onto me.

A low growl came from his throat: "Grrr..."

Oh shit! I jumped back so hard I slammed into the wall.

This wasn't the helpless injured man from last night, this was something entirely different. The way he looked at me made my skin burn, his nostrils flaring like he was scenting me.

What the hell did I bring into my house?