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Chapter 2 : Ashborne

Author: Claire Wilkins
last update Last Updated: 2023-11-24 14:04:30

*Vanessa*

When I wake again, I’m lying in a bed in a place I don’t recognize with a strange woman tending to my bruises.

When she sees I’m awake, she places a hand on my arm, as though to steady me.

“Don’t panic. I’m a medic, my name is Amara. Our Alpha brought you in and you’re lucky he did.”

At first, her words don’t register. It takes her repeating herself before the wall I built against my emotions comes crumbling down as the realization hits me: Trent tried to kill me.

“Do you remember what happened to you?” The way she asks the question, I know that I must look at least a fraction as bad as I feel. As though her words inflame the gashes on my body, the pain rebounds so badly that I groan and she quickly administers pain meds which dull the agony somewhat.

“I know you’re in pain, but I need to know. Do you remember what happened to you?” she repeats. I know it’s most likely to check for any head trauma and I manage to croak out, “Yes.”

Trent’s attack flashes in my mind and I wince.

“Okay,” Amara carries on, making a note of that. “Do you remember your name?”

“Vanessa,” I say, my throat suddenly bone-dry.

“Good. Vanessa, I’m going to explain what’s happened since you’ve been brought in, okay?”

Even though I can hear her and process what she’s saying, it’s as though my head is trapped in a bubble. I was found half-dead, and by the way Amara gently describes my injuries, what happened wasn’t just a slip of Trent’s control. No, he actually wanted me dead. The full extent of everything that led to that point washes over me like a wave and the bubble bursts. I break down, beginning to sob.

The little comfort that I managed to find in my pack was ripped away from me.

Ramona, the friend I had for years, betrayed me.

And Trent, my fated mate…

What was the purpose of this bond if he could do what he did to me without any regret? It shook the very foundation of everything I believed about the Goddess and the mate bond. Every whisper, every kiss, every promise … they’d all been lies, some entertainment for Trent while he waited for someone he could take seriously.

I can see Lian’s smug expression on the day of the mating ceremony and hear her odd remarks just before we left. It was like she knew what was coming. I know that she and Ramona are friends, but I wonder how long this was planned and how many others were aware of what was going to happen. How many of them were perfectly fine with me getting thrown aside and potentially killed?

Amara tries to calm me down as I grow more and more hysterical, and I think I’m going to lose my mind with grief and sadness until I feel a sharp prick in my arm and darkness takes my mind once more.

When I wake up again, I’m calmer. Whatever sedative Amara gave me settled in my veins and numbed me, but though blunted, the pain is still there. I’m still aching with all of my questions, still mourning the loss of the life I once had, even though it wasn’t the best one to begin with. But it was home. It was all I knew and now nothing would ever be the same again.

Knowing now that Trent wanted to kill me, I can’t go back. He’ll just finish the job and as Alpha, no one would dare question him. As the pack pariah, no one would deign to defend me.

I’m lost, homeless, a straggler.

“How are you feeling?” Amara’s voice drifts over from somewhere on my right and I follow it to see her soft brown eyes take me in with concern. Now that I’m calmer, I can see her properly. She looks to be a couple of years older than me, maybe in her late twenties. She has a spray of feint freckles across her nose, and her brown curls are slipped in a topknot above her head.

I can’t bring myself to speak, my throat scraped raw with the emotions of the day, so all I do is nod in affirmation.

I look around, trying to figure out where I am. As though she can read my mind, Amara puts a hand on my shoulder.

“You can relax, you’re safe now. I know that this is a lot to process right now, but you’re going to be okay. In fact, the person who made sure of that is here to see you. I’ll give you a minute,” she says.

I’m not sure what she’s talking about as she makes her way out, but then someone quickly enters the room, and surprise slacks my jaw.

His features are familiar: inky black hair that falls in shaggy waves to just below his ears, an intricate black filigree of ink twining one of his forearms, and blue eyes as dark as a seastorm. In my less pain-addled state, I can see the rest of his face too. He has strong features with a proud nose and sharp cheekbones and jawline.

For a brief second, I can’t deny how handsome he is. It’s not just how good his face looks, but something about his aura is magnetic, drawing me in. That’s what makes me snap out of it completely.

The man before me is a stranger. After what happened with Trent, I know that I can’t trust anyone. If my fated mate could betray me, why would I think an unknown Alpha would treat me any better?

His looks are disarming. So is the authority he exudes. I also notice for the first time how much bigger and taller he is than even the shifters back home. And though he’s on the thinner side, the muscles covering his limbs are obvious in their strength. I keep my gaze level with his, trying not to give away how weak and vulnerable I feel under his stare as I try to read his facial expression.

But he doesn’t regard me with the arrogance I expect to find written there. I’m fully at his mercy, and for most Alphas that would be reason enough to get drunk off their own power. I now know Trent to certainly be that kind. But this man doesn’t seem the least bit interested in directly intimidating me. He just is intimidating without having to try.

Nothing about him seems easy to decipher.

“Well, you certainly look better than you did a few hours ago,” he finally says, his voice low and lilting. “Vanessa … that’s your name, right?”

I blink away my confusion and try to find my tongue. “Why did you help me?”

He watches me carefully for a second before raising an eyebrow. “That’s a very inarticulate way of thanking me for saving your life, you know? I’m Shawn. And you’re welcome.”

“Sorry,” I say cagily. While I want to be careful, I don’t want to seem rude. It’s a fine line to walk, but I’ll need to tread it well. I begrudgingly acknowledge that he did choose to bring me here instead of leaving me there to die. “Thank you, for saving my life. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful, it’s just been a lot for me to process.”

He presses his lips together and I can tell that he’s probably assessing my injuries, which speak for themselves. I feel hot under his gaze, my stomach drawing itself into anxious knots. But he doesn’t radiate anything predatory. He just looks … genuinely curious to see how I’m holding up.

“I understand that you might feel uneasy considering you don’t know us. But we’re trying to help you. Amara is one of our best medics and I have no doubt she can bring you back to health in no time, though keep in mind that we’re mutual strangers. Because of that, she’s also going to be monitoring you.” At whatever expression I pull, he clarifies. “You aren’t a prisoner here. But I can’t take the risk.”

Amara mentioned that their Alpha had saved me. From his presence alone, I can tell that he’s a leader. I can’t begrudge him looking out for his pack, even if it makes me feel uncomfortable. I am, after all, a stray.

“You can stay with us until you’ve recovered. After that, you’re free to leave whenever you want,” he says.

I don’t understand the offer of hospitality. He doesn’t owe me anything. I’m not part of his pack and thus not entitled to any of his resources, including the services of his medic. But no way am I going to decline it, despite my suspicions of him and his of me.

There’s a tension between us, one that leaves room for more questions that neither of us seems too keen to ask any time soon. So I just nod and he does too, seemingly ending our little conversation as he turns and heads for the door.

Before he can leave though, I remember that he didn’t answer the one question that will keep me up if I don’t have an answer.

“Wait!” I call out and he stops, turning his head to look at me over a broad shoulder.

“You never answered me. Why … why did you help me?”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, seeming to carefully consider his words. Then, he turns back to the door.

“It seemed like you didn’t want to die.”

With that, he leaves and I’m left to try and figure out what that means by myself.

Enigmatic doesn’t even begin to describe him.

Part of the research I did into preparing for what was supposed to be my role as Luna included familiarizing myself with all of the other packs and their leadership. Even though each pack territory is large enough to not have our patrol routes overlap with one another, there’s still a lot of tension around various border lines.

Some areas are contested from old blood feuds that had vague resolutions. One of the answers to these tensions was to try and amass as big and powerful a pack as possible. That involved recruitment, training, and, of course, encouraging mate bonds to produce the most talented shifters.

It seems outdated, but that was how most packs were run.

Because of that, it was easy enough to learn about who the important players were in the game. Despite Shawn’s quiet intensity, I don’t recall his name at all from any of my previous research. That’s incredibly odd.

“Are you currently in any pain?”

I’m pulled out of my reverie by Amara’s voice. I didn’t even realize that she’d returned. The drugs in my system must be dumbing down my senses.

“No,” I say truthfully. “No, I’m fine.”

“Good.” She looks over my injuries, promptly redressing one of the wounds that had begun to bleed through the bandages.

As she works, I drum up the courage to ask the question that has been burning in my mind since Shawn entered the room.

“Um, Amara?” I start, unsure of how to ask this without being misinterpreted.

“Yes?”

“Where am I? I don’t even know what pack this is,” I say, trying my best to sound polite.

“Oh, right, you don’t know. You’re in Ashborne,” she replies softly.

I freeze.

No wonder I have no recollection of Shawn’s name. The last time I heard about Ashborne, their Alpha was an older sickly male who had recently passed. They weren’t considered a particularly important pack, mainly due to the weakening of their morale and loss of resources after his death.

I never met the man, but I know from the description alone, Shawn was his spitting image. He must be his son and heir.

I know that they’re struggling to keep their territory, maintain their alliances, and take care of all of their members. A million more questions about what is going to happen to me here sprout in my mind as I think about the burden on this new Alpha’s shoulders.

More than that, I begin to worry about what will happen to me now that I no longer have a home with Trent. Ashborne is on the cusp of falling apart. My old pack is being led by a monster wearing the guise of a leader.

I am utterly lost.

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