Chapter 11 : Allies

*Vanessa*

“Alright, listen up. I want you all to pair off in groups of two, with one shifter being the medic and the other the patient. I’ll go through the medical protocol for various hunting-related injuries and I want you guys to simulate how you’ll go about addressing the wounds with the kits I provided.” Amara’s voice is laced with authority, and when I take a look at the dozen shifters before us, I can see the deference in their faces.

It gives me an odd sense of pride.

Amara and I had spent the rest of the night going through ways to improve Ashborne’s medical system. She listened to me, asking questions, making notes of the answers, and even offering some suggestions of her own.

It was strangely validating, to be taken seriously.

Like Aaron, she let me introduce all of the new ideas to the shifters first before she went into detail implementing them. I could tell that they couldn’t see the point behind the small first-aid sessions I’d suggested and that there might’ve been a hint of boredom among them.

But unlike the failure of yesterday, no one offered a single word of dissent. They all scrambled to take their seats and grab their kits, going through the drills Amara laid out.

I’d also suggested making sure the entire pack had some first-aid training, not just the ones assigned to be medics. The rest would start tomorrow with the easiest protocols, and go to a second training level. Today is meant just for the medic rookies.

I’m sure more than a few of them weren’t too happy about the new structure put in place, but to their credit, they chose not to say anything about it. I can only assume there aren’t any potential Beta candidates among the group, because no one bothered to try and vet my strategies.

It’s a relief.

Amara weaves between each group, offering them light corrections of improvement and technique and I watch the budding medics get into the flow of things.

By the time the session is over, Amara is convinced that it was a huge success.

“You don’t think it was a waste of time?” I ask her, worry creasing my brow.

She rolls her eyes, but her voice is friendly. “Definitely not. Do you really think I would’ve wasted everyone’s time with something I thought was useless? It’s often the stuff that people don’t think about covering that might end up being important. This was great.”

We head to the canteen area to get something to eat when we notice the hunting group has assembled near the entrance.

At my downcast expression, Amara adjusts her steps so she’s directly blocking my view of them as we walk. She knows that they’ve chosen not to incorporate my ideas.

I decided not to say anything, thinking that if Aaron disapproved of my plans, he would’ve relayed that to Shawn, and Shawn in turn wouldn’t care if the pack opted not to use them. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but not surprising given their reception to me.

What that does mean though, is that I have no idea how that leaves my situation regarding completing Shawn’s challenge. I don’t know if he’ll let me join Ashborne based on the theory of my ideas alone, or if he’ll change his mind after realizing that assigning me as a strategist won’t work if the pack will not listen to me.

An uneasy feeling coils in my gut and I try to bury it, eager not to repeat yesterday’s breakdown.

Amara spends our lunchtime bubbling away about her enthusiasm for the first aid classes, telling me funny stories about what the trainee medics got up to, and for a while I forget about everything troubling me.

Lunchtime is over faster than I would’ve liked, but there’s not much for us to do today and Amara suggests simply hanging out in the canteen until she’s needed somewhere.

But then a sudden commotion near the gate directs both of our attention to the oncoming group of returning hunters. They’re shouting, and from the looks of it, at least two of them have been injured.

Amara immediately springs into action and races toward them and I go with her, only a few paces behind. The rest of the compound has come out to see what the commotion is about.

As we draw close enough to see what’s happening, pure shock stops me in my tracks and my jaw drops.

Two of the hunters have makeshift splints attached to their legs and one other has a strange binding around their shoulder. They’re bleeding pretty heavily, and Amara calls over for one of the other medics to help usher them to the infirmary immediately.

I feel awful about what was obviously a hunt gone wrong until my brain registers something odd: the makeshift splints and bindings are familiar. In fact, I myself could probably have put them together because they’re the exact same devices that Amara taught the rookies to make today.

In the midst of all of this, I catch Aaron’s eye and before he can mask it, I see the glimmer of panic as he watches the three hunters labor their way to the infirmary. Once he catches me staring though, he immediately walls me back out, though there’s something else in his expression that I can’t figure out.

With a small shake of his head, he moves after Amara and the injured hunters.

Some of the other hunters run after their friends but the rest of the group disperses throughout the territory, and bits of spirited conversation are peppered around me as the rest of the pack is filled in on what happened.

I’m not sure what to do.

I don’t want to follow Amara into the infirmary and be in the way while she works, but I also don’t want to hang around the general area by myself. I would go for a walk, but Amara isn’t there to escort me and Aaron is evidently preoccupied with worrying about his hunters. I’m not sure how much leeway I’d be allowed to move about without one of them to watch me.

So instead, I opt to wait outside the infirmary, in broad daylight where it can be obvious that I’m not planning a coup or mass murder or whatever.

My thoughts are occupied by the image of the splints and bindings. How did the hunters know how to make those? Medics don’t attend hunts. That was one of the reasons I had the idea to have the entire pack learn at least basic first-aid skills. And what was that look in Aaron’s eyes?

I don’t have answers to either of those questions.

It must be at least an hour since Amara rushed them into the infirmary. I’m about to take my chances and head inside when she comes walking out, a broad smile on her face.

“Vanessa, there you are!” She grabs my shoulders as I stand up to greet her and gives them a slight shake. “You saved them! Do you know that?”

I can’t make sense of what she’s saying and at my confused expression, she laughs. “You saved them! Those hunters were caught in one of Greystone’s traps. It’s amazing luck that some of the medics were excited enough to share what they learned with the hunters just before they left. They didn’t recreate the devices perfectly, but did it well enough to keep those three from bleeding out before they got back here.”

I’m stunned.

It was pure luck that we decided to hold those classes today and that rookie decided to share their knowledge. But if what Amara’s saying is true, then my plan was just proven effective. The classes today were just validated as having a purpose. My plan … saved three lives.

I don’t know what to say. Amara’s beaming at me, filling me in on some more details when Aaron slinks out from the nearest ward and awkwardly approaches us, scratching the back of his head.

“Amara, could I speak to Vanessa for a second, please?” he asks, his cheeks flushed with the lightest shade of red.

Amara looks at him with a knowing smirk, which only causes his blush to deepen.

“Of course. I’ll be in my office,” she says, her voice like a song and she saunters off, leaving Aaron watching her as she leaves.

When he gets a bit too distracted, I clear my throat and his head whips around. He looks embarrassed and I have to bite my lip to keep from chuckling. “You had something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Oh, yeah. Um, Dean —one of our hunters —was the one to do those splint things, and he mentioned that he learned them from one of the medics earlier today. I didn’t know what he meant, but Amara explained the whole first aid thing and, well…” he trails off, not knowing how to finish what he meant to say.

I wonder if that’s what that look Amara gave him was about. I wonder if there was an invisible compliment or thank-you tucked somewhere in his words. The possibility of that alone is enough.

“I thought it would be useful if the entire pack learned basic first aid, specifically because of situations like this,” I say.

He nods thoughtfully, then a thunderous expression clouds his features. “It was Greystone. They started using traps and none of us were expecting it. We hadn’t scouted the area out in a long time.”

I think back to when I suggested the hunter-patrol rotation and the merging of skill sets. I don’t want to sound insensitive or arrogant, so I don’t say out loud that this situation could’ve been easily avoided. But Aaron must have come to that conclusion himself because he seems to steel himself to say something, his shoulder rising with a pained inhale.

“So. I was, uh, thinking that maybe we could take another look at those plans you made for the warrior groups. Other packs seem to be evolving their strategies so I figure, you know, it might be time to do the same.” He scratches the back of his head again.

I don’t want to overthink this. I don’t want to take this as a show of acceptance. But I can’t help the tiny flicker of happiness that sparks in my chest at the thought that I could be proving my usefulness.

And I must be useful if Aaron is willing to put aside his prejudice of me however briefly. So, with a neutral expression, I readily agree.

***

It took all of three weeks to put my contributions to the test.

By then, the patrol and hunter groups had already begun acquiring each other’s skills so that by the time they took off on the patrol-hunt expedition I’d suggested in the beginning, it didn’t matter that they were down by three hunters —they still returned with one of the biggest hauls they had in a long time.

The pack was ecstatic and there was an air of victory that permeated throughout all of Ashborne as they brought in their kills.

“I told you that others would start seeing your efforts,” Amara says as we watch the pack buzz around the compound, excited and eager to enjoy the spoils. “No one can doubt you now that you bring something to this pack.”

A surprised laugh bubbles out of my mouth. The thought of being partially responsible for the happiness I see around me is overwhelming, and hearing her words only makes me even less certain about whether I want to laugh or cry.

I did it.

I actually did it.

“I’m just happy I managed to prove myself,” I say honestly, smiling at a young boy pulling at his mother’s hand to watch the hunters carry the meat inside the depot. Amara turns to say something to me when Shawn approaches us.

My throat goes dry at the sparkle in his dark blue eyes.

“Vanessa, can I see you for a minute?” he asks, and I turn to look at Amara who says she’ll wait for me in the square.

I follow Shawn to the space he uses as an office, leaving behind the sounds of celebration and revelry behind us.

He goes to stand against a large old wooden desk, leaning against it while resting his hands on the surface. He takes me in for a second, and I feel warm under his gaze.

“I’m thoroughly impressed,” he says, and he sounds sincere. “I set this up as a challenge and you’ve surpassed my expectations. I wanted to personally congratulate you for all the hard work you’ve put into improving our pack systems and to thank you for bringing us success.”

I feel my cheeks burn hot with his praise, and I awkwardly shift my weight from one foot to the other. I’m still not used to compliments. Even with Amara, I’ve learned to just hold my tongue when she gives them, but with Shawn, I feel obligated to respond.

He’s still the Alpha here and even despite all the recent progress, I can’t risk offending him and risk him kicking me out. Even scraps of kindness from Ashborne would be infinitely better than the luxuries of Helbane.

“Thank you,” I reply quietly, lowering my head in deference because, for some reason, I can’t meet his eyes.

“Vanessa?” he calls my name softly, seemingly imploring me to look up.

With my heart pounding, I do. Shawn’s head is tilted, his eyes slightly squinting as though he’s trying to decipher a puzzle but can’t quite fit the pieces together. “You’re allowed to celebrate yourself. You’re allowed to enjoy the night.”

“I … I didn’t want to assume things,” I manage to get out, and even though it’s such a vague statement, he seems to understand what I’m implying.

“I told you when you first got here that you weren’t a prisoner. I meant that. And I told you that this challenge was set up to prove not just your abilities, but your trustworthiness. You’ve achieved both.” He inclines his head toward me in a gesture of respect. “I think you’ve earned your spot here, for as long as you’d like to stay. Without a guard over your shoulder, I should clarify.”

I realize now that any frost of suspicion that existed between us has officially thawed.

We may not be friends, but we are something like allies, at least for now. I can tell that he’s beginning to trust me, and though I’m honored he does, it’s not something I can return without fear. Not right now. But I am grateful and I want to make sure he knows that.

“I appreciate the chance you gave me, Shawn. I promise that I’ll be as useful to Ashborne as I need to be,” I say, trying to affect the same sort of professional tone lower wolves use with higher ranks. "It’ll be my honor to serve you.”

He looks like he wants to say something, opening his mouth before closing it again. When he speaks next, I’m sure it’s not the words he originally intended to say.

“Go and have fun. You deserve it.”

With a courteous shallow bow, I turn and head out to find Amara, feeling Shawn’s stare follow me out of the door. I must be crazy because all throughout the night of feasting and partying, I can swear I still feel his eyes on me.