Her Savior Alpha

Upon snapping out of the haze, I found myself laying on the ground on my side, upon wet leaves. The rain had stopped and all I could see was gray sky above me, interrupted by tree branches reaching up to scrape it.

Surveying the world around me, I tried to grasp at my memories, but they fell from the grips of my fingers like grains of sand. The first peculiar thing my eyes laid upon, though, was a very familiar back, lined with bleeding scratches dragged from the left shoulder down to the right hip flank. The man was kneeled facing away from me, positioned between me and someone else. All I could see was pale, champagne-colored fur, than in a few seconds, a retransformation that resulted in a head of longish dirty blonde hair, messy and matted with sweat and rain, cradled in the hand of who I realized was Clive.

I tried to shift myself up on shaky arms but failed. “Clive...” I tried to call out, but my voice was merely a weak, throaty sound that probably didn’t grab his attention, since wolves could hear even a whisper from a few yards away.

Another tall figure entered my vision. Dark, unruly hair, a pale face of sharp beauty: Archer. Eyes on me, he leaned down.

“C’mon, let’s get you up,” he murmured, putting his arms around my shoulders to lift them off the ground. He removed his hands from me for a quick second, pulling his long sleeve sweater off and plopping it over my head. Underneath he wore his sleeveless turtleneck shirt that made him look like a mercenary or a ninja. The cold didn’t seem to bother him. Adjusting the shirt, helping my arms through the sleeves, the shirt fell just past my butt, the sleeves long and dangling over my hands. Then, Archer helped hoist me up from the ground, my leg ringing with dull, throbbing pain, the worst of the injuries scattered across my body. Dizziness overcame me, but I leaned into Archer, using him as a crutch.

Now with a better view, I looked around me at what I could only describe as a wreckage, a miniature battleground. Broken branches and trees lay strewn around, alongside bodies - bodies of previously transformed wolves, now flesh and human bone, and very vulnerable looking laying among the earth’s natural elements. What was most horrible was the sight of scars inked on them like indulgent tattoos, still fresh and running with rivers of warm blood. My mouth fell open as I took it all in.

“Archer,” I whimpered. “What- what happened? Please, please tell me this wasn’t my doing.”

Archer adjusted my arm around his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Vera.” I didn’t know if he was apologizing for what happened to me or for the fact that I had done such a thing while my wolf was in control and he couldn’t help me undo it.

Clive finally hoisted up the body in front of him, turning around. Reilly hung from his older brother’s arms, in the worst condition compared to the rest of his comrades. His face was white and slack, closed eyes distressed and blood marking nearly every part of his body, from the scratching on his limbs from rolling around on rocks to bitemarks and deliberate claw marks etched across his chest, around his neck, on his legs. He looked like a torture victim, and I couldn’t imagine ever mustering up the strength or the resolve to do such a thing. Was my rage such a powerful catalyst for my wolf to go on such a rampage? I didn’t want to believe it.

Not meeting my eyes, Clive led the way through the trees.

As we walked, we came across the onlookers who had followed us from the courtyard. Some remained wolves, others humans, but all kept a significant distance between us and them, the air silent as they watched with bated breath. I felt eyes on me, but not in the usual way, not in disgust or abhorrence; rather, in wariness, in frozen fear, some in shock. As I flickered my eyes up to meet their gazes, each had a look of caution, as though a terrifying authority was walking before them. Were they afraid of me?

“What’s going on?” I whisper to Archer beside me. “Why are they all looking at me like that?”

Archer couldn’t look me in the eye, and I knew he was aware of the change. “I’ll tell you later,” he replied softly, his expression a bit haunted and reserved. I felt thankful that his firm grip around me as he helped me limp back to the pack was familiar and safe.

However, my eyes drifted to the broad shoulders walking in front of me, to warm, soft golden hair, still bright beneath the cloudy night. Three long, parallel scratches bled diagonally across his beautiful, sun-kissed back; and I remembered the first image I saw when I came to. A sickening ball of fear grew inside me as I realized the implications.

What had happened while I was out?

We exited the woods, trekking all the way to the medical hall. The pack town was silent and hushed, as we entered the large double doors. Behind us, several other pack members had managed to carry the bodies of Reilly’s fallen crewmates, bringing them for treatment.

We entered the hall, making a beeline for the emergency room where cots lay every few feet for quick surveying and healing. I stayed beside Clive as he hurried to place Reilly on a bed, the young man looking small and pale, truly like his young brother. I couldn’t have done that to hm... could I?

I swallowed dryly, watching as the other pack members came in to place Gina, Trevor, Mathew, Zion, and the others on their own respective cots. Each one was in similar state of disarray and injury, blood painted across their cold, bruised forms. As the pack members left, they gave me a wide berth, eyeing me with wariness.

A flood of pack doctors and nurses surrounded the beds, getting into action quickly, and we were forced to step back.

A pack doctor checked over Reilly, as a Nurse wiped the dirt off of him and another hooked him up to a heart monitor. His heart beat sluggishly. “He needs to go to the ICU right away. He has too many open wounds, losing blood quickly,” the doctor said after hearing his chest with his stethoscope. Another two nurses brought over a gurney, and they carefully transferred Reilly’s deadweight body over. Clive hovered over helplessly the whole time.

“Excuse me,” I said, my voice hoarse. “I’ll just be... over there... somewhere.” I wasn’t sure where I was going, but I needed to leave. I turned, noting that Clive barely heard me. It was personal, but it still hurt.

“Vera, wait,” Archer said, hand touching my shoulder. “You have to tend to your wounds.”

Archer came with me to the supply room; I didn’t need a nurse or anything, the others needed one more badly than I did. We carried the healing supplies to an empty spot in the medical bay, a cot at the far left of the dim room. The lights were bright enough in the medical facilities.

Sitting with my aching body on the thin mattress, I began cleaning up and treating my wounds. Archer stretched out my left leg, with the massive half-moon bite mark on it, and I hissed when he wiped the blood and dabbed it with antibacterial ointment. His careful hands methodically wrapped white gauze around my leg, while I tended to the rest of my scratches on my upper body and face. I wished I had my tinctures with me for the bruises and the pain.

By the time I finishing cleaning up my wounds, they already felt better, and I felt I could walk on my foot for longer with only a slight limp. I supposed those Lycan powers had kicked in.

No one needed to tell me what I had done; I was not stupid. The bloodshed that I had woken up to was my doing. Something must have happened when I blacked out, and i couldn’t blame my wolf for doing out the revenge Reilly and his crew deserved. But now, I was even further down the social ladder. I had done something monstrous, out of my control, and I could already feel the alienation.

“How do you feel?” Archer asked from his seat on the cot in the empty medical bay. With all of Reilly’s crew mates undergoing various stages of intensive treatment upstairs, this place was deserted, left for those with minimal injuries or those ready for discharge.

“Good,” I smiled, but my tone was clipped. “I’m pretty sure I’m good to go.”

He gave me a disapproving look, with one dark brow cocked up, the other down. It suited him. “I don’t think so. You need to stay here to heal completely. Besides, we don’t know what Dane might do when he sees you.”

“I can’t go around hurting anyone else, either,” I couldn’t help but mumble.

“That’s not at all what I meant, Vera,” Archer countered gently.

“I know everyone knows now... that I’m Lycan.” I looked away, chewing on my lip, feeling something tense between us.

Archer’s eyes shifted down, to the side. “Yes... your wolf announced it during the...” Bloodshed? Battle? I didn’t know what to call it either.

We sat in silence for a minute, before Archer got up. “Let me get you something to drink. After such a long day, you must be thirsty.”

Upon seeing me shrug, he quickly left to the hall. While I didn’t feel like being with anyone else, his exit made me face the unpleasant thoughts banging around in my head. I felt so suffocated despite being in the large room, despite Archer giving me some space to “get me something to drink.” I wasn’t sure if he would return - I honestly couldn’t get a reading on him. Was he shocked that I was Lycan? Was he terrified or disgusted? Did he feel I went too hard on Reilly?

Surprisingly, he did come back and, he did, in fact, get me a juice box and a granola bar. I could always trust him to get me food. I thanked him, opening up the straw, but I couldn’t find it in me to remember to sip.

“Archer, you should go see how Clive is doing. I think I’ll just rest my eyes for a while.” I smiled, urging him to go without making it obvious. He stared at me, his expression telling me that he knowing what I was hinting at.

After a few seconds, he seemed to understand and read between the lines. “Okay, Vera, I’ll let you recover. I’m sure Clive would want you to be there beside him, but I guess I can be the next best thing. Do you want me to pass on any message?”

I highly doubted I should be anywhere near Clive after nearly murdering his brother. Asshole or not, family was family - Dane was the exception.

I thought a bit, my mouth set in a tight smile. “Just tell him that... There are no words for how sorry I am. That’s all.”

He hesitated a moment longer, studying my face with those silvery, perceptive eyes, than nodded firmly. Turning around to leave, he strode assuredly to the door, and I was glad to have kept up my amicable expression but he sent me another glance before exiting.

Finally alone, I let out of whoosh of breath, the day’s toil attempting to leave my body. But much of it still remained trapped in my lungs, in my chest, a heavy weight on my shoulders. Feeling my breathing become shallow and my airway tighten, I knew being alone here, in this room filled with horrible memories of recuperating after numerous beatings, wasn’t enough. I had to leave before the walls squeezed in on me.

My feet slapped against the tile flooring as I strode down the hallway, not knowing where to go. I didn’t necessary have any destination in mind when I left my bed; my soul simply ached for something far away from any eyes, where I could be alone and solitary to my own thoughts. Letting my legs lead, my head ran a mile per second, bringign all of my most damning thoughtst to the forefront with every hall I passed. So much had happened in the past twenty fours hours, I barely knew who I was or where i stood with the pack any longer.

I stopped in front of a metal door in a deserted hallway, one that led out to a stone gray staircase in a shadowy part of the medical facility. I’d been thorugh here before, during some of the many times I’d had to visit the medical hall. Pushing the cold metal handle, I pushed it n to reveal the concrete steps leading up. This was an out-of-the-way staircase used manly by staff and in the case of emergency. I padded up the staircase, passing by a couple floors on automatic mode, knowing now where I was heading.

At the top, the stairs ended at another industrial door. Pushing it open, cool air met me, unfurling my hair and spreading it around me and across my face as I stepped out on the roof. Slowly walking forward, I let the sight of the surroundings wash over me, the dark trees and mountain silhouettes looking grand and shapeless under the dark night. Tiny white dots flickered in the sky, the moon hidden behind black clouds.

Upon reaching the small wall at the edge of the roof, I dared sit on it, gathering my knees into an embrace as I looked out from the height. I could see the twinkling windows of the residential area from here, and I wondered if the pack was having a good night after the bloodshed that had happened to day. As I saw the roof of Dane’s grand home, what he thought about it was the last thing on my mind.

Instead, feelings of resentment and poisonous bitterness streamed through my veins. Sure, I was horrified at what I must have done under my Lycan’s control. But I couldn’t forgive Reilly and his crew. it was cruel, and they got what they deserved. I was not sorry, and I wasn’t sorry about the fear the had been implanted upon every pack member after the event. They should know who I am and that I’m done

Yet underneath my utter disappointment and seething vindication, I also felt...lost. A girl without a home. Orphaned. Family-less. Pack-less. A pariah, first; now an absolute outsider.

I wanted to disappear. But not in the way I used to want to disappear. Rather, I wanted to leave and forever forget I’d been a part of this pack. The feeling was stronger now after the betrayel of my so-called mate. I wanted to wipe away the shame, embarrassment, and emptiness attached to the identity of Vera Hunter here in Mount Hunter town, and mold myself into someone new somewhere else. I knew I had promised Archer, but I had seen it through. Now, I wondered if Archer would still want to escape with me. After his cautious movements and unreadable expression, I didn’t know anymore.

As the stars shined down on me, I made a decision.