Chapter 6 : Shawn's Challenge

*Vanessa*

“I can’t believe you were ballsy enough to actually ask him that!” Amara’s eyes shine with excitement.

She didn’t ask immediately about what happened, but her curiosity was obvious enough to read into her body language, and for some reason, I was actually looking forward to telling her once Shawn left.

I shake my head in embarrassment, blowing off her praise. “I really wasn’t.”

“Oh, come on. You’re a stranger at the complete mercy of a pack you don’t know, and yet you just asserted yourself to their Alpha. That takes guts. I don’t think I would’ve been able to do that.” She peels back one of my bandages and I grit against the pain.

She smiles apologetically at me before her features return to their usual focused expression. I brave a look toward the wound on my arm and the sight turns my stomach.

“You’re one to talk about being brave,” I say, laughing shakily. “I can’t imagine doing what you do and seeing the kind of injuries you see on a near-daily basis. That’s true courage.”

Amara shrugs her shoulders. “Thanks. But it’s hardly courage on my part. Courage would imply the ability to overcome an obstacle. I don’t know, I just was never really bothered by blood and gore. Being a medic came to me rather naturally.”

She makes quick work of cleaning the wound and redressing it before checking on the others as well.

“You’re healing quite nicely, but I’d still be careful about not opening any of your stitches. So, no strenuous movements for at least three weeks. Got it?” she asks, peeling off her gloves and tossing them into the wastebasket.

I nod. “How long before I heal completely? If you had to guess?”

She thinks for a second. “Well, if you’re careful about not aggravating any of your injuries, I’d give you maybe two months until you make a full recovery. But again, I have to emphasize, no dumb decisions.”

“Got it. How long have you been doing this? You have the stern tone down perfectly.”

Amara chuckles and heads over to the supply cabinet to do some stocktaking. I can’t help but notice how much emptier it’s grown even in the days I’ve been here. Back home, there was an abundance of medication, sources taken right from the woods and processed into pills and powders. But their stock is meager.

I bite my lip, doubt creeping in about whether or not I’d really be able to help the pack find some measure of prosperity again.

“I don’t know. Maybe a decade or so? I’ve been working under Elder Taryn since I was a teenager. She’s the top medic of our pack and hopefully, with time and experience, she’s going to be able to pass the mantle over to me.”

I can hear the pride in her voice, and I don’t think it’s misplaced. Amara is genuinely good at what she does and skill aside, she is kind as well. Even though I’ve only known her for a relatively short period of time, I can’t believe there’s anyone better to take on the role. I admire her for it, though I do wish I had some of her mettle and confidence.

“You were born for this then,” I note, and she grins.

“Thanks. See, now that’s how you respond to a compliment. Not denying it altogether.” She gives me a pointed look.

“Okay, okay, I get it.” I throw my hands up in surrender. She mock-cheers in victory.

The truth is that I don’t like compliments much. Before the accident with Trent, I tended to believe people were teasing me just because of how rare they were for me. But I still accepted them, even if I didn’t necessarily take them seriously.

But my public rejection broke something inside of me that I wasn’t sure I could ever fix.

Trent’s words about me being an inadequate leader bruised more than I would ever admit to anyone. He completely ignored the times I discussed anything related to pack structures or made suggestions for improvements. He ignored the work I put into research and learning everything that would help make the pack stronger.

Instead, he made me second guess myself. I began to wonder just how smart I actually was. I may have been sure when I asked Shawn for the chance to join the pack. But it wasn’t until after that the voices in the back of my head began hitting me with self doubt.

'Your weakness will mean their ruin. I have no choice but to choose someone who will help me take this pack from strength to strength.'

I know now that Trent is a coward who isn’t even a good leader on his own. But that doesn’t do much to get rid of the lingering fear that there was something more to his words, regardless of his intent.

I want more than anything to be able to go back to my old self, the person who was largely indifferent to the opinions of others and had confidence in her abilities and skills.

Elder Luka’s eyes suddenly pop into my mind, along with their words that our mate’s estimation of us doesn’t define our worth.

They claimed to be older than the Goddess herself … I certainly hoped they were old enough for that statement to stem from some observable truth.

“You’re lucky to have found your place,” I say softly, half to myself. Embarrassed, I drop my gaze and stare at my hands in my lap.

Again, I’ve admitted more to someone here than I intended to.

I can see from my peripheral vision that Amara regards me for a moment, packing in the last of the medicines back into the cabinet. “Finding your place takes time. Be patient with yourself. Physical wounds aren’t the only type that can take longer to heal.”

My head shoots up at her words. She smiles. “I don’t know what happened in your old pack, Vanessa. But you’re here now and you managed to get the opportunity to prove yourself. This is where you go for it.”

I don’t know what to say to that.

Fortunately, I don’t have to try to come up with a response because the door opens and Shawn saunters in.

“I’ve come up with a trial test for you,” he announces, folding his arms.

“Already?” I ask incredulously, my heart beginning to race. This is so much sooner that I expected. I know Shawn said he was going to test me, but I thought when he said he needed 'some time' to come up with one, that he meant days maybe, not hours.

But the Alpha seems resolute, his mouth set in a hard line.

“We’re on a bit of a strict clock. Plus, the test I have in mind will actually help us out for the short-term. Are you still up for it?” he asks, and my nerves skitter when I realize that this is real, it’s happening and I have a split second to make my decision.

“Yeah,” I reply immediately. “What do I have to do?”

Shawn nods in approval and then begins to explain. “We’ve lost a good number of our best warriors. Those were our patrols and our hunters, and as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, the pack has paid dearly for that loss.”

I murmur my agreement, recalling the things I noticed on my first walk around during the celebration dinner. I’d made a mental note of the scarcity on display, of the poor hunting practices and the lower numbers of pack members, and especially of warriors.

I understand why Shawn is struggling to figure this out on his own. Alphas typically work with a small council to come up with the best strategies. Shawn doesn’t seem to have that outside of his friends. They were left bitterly unprepared after his father’s passing.

“I’m tasking you with organizing a patrol and hunt expedition. I figure there’s no better time to test your skill and to up our reserves than right after a successful hunt while morale is still high,” he says.

That’s smart. Waiting until the food supply begins to run low will only lead to another unsuccessful hunt, not to mention the discouragement of the pack. But it seems as though he wants me to combine a hunt and patrol in one go and that is where the challenge lay, considering their numbers.

“Just to confirm, is this patrol and hunting expedition supposed to happen at the same time?” I ask.

He nods.

“Is that not a bit too difficult for one person to come up with on their own?” Amara chimes in. “We’ll be spread thin on both fronts. I never doubt your plans, Shawn, but this one seems a little bit too much.”

“No, I don’t think it is,” he answers, turning his gaze to me. The confidence in his statement puzzles me. Amara is not wrong. Does he really believe I’m intelligent and skilled enough to do this? “I think she’s perfectly capable of figuring this out. Aren’t you, Vanessa?”

He’s challenging me to acknowledge my skill. Ironic, considering the conversation Amara and I were just having before he came in. I take a deep breath, centering myself.

“Yes. I can do this. Just give me a couple of hours to come up with a strategy.”

“You have four.” He hands me a piece of paper that I can see has the names and roles of the pack warriors scribbled down in a neat, masculine script. Then, he inclines his head toward me and Amara in greeting before leaving. As he exits, I catch a glimpse of the friend I noticed at the dinner, the one with the fair features whose eyes were fixed on Amara the entire evening.

He looks at me with an odd mix of suspicion and uncertainty, then shoots a quick glance at the medic which melts the hard bitterness of that look into something soft and almost sweet. He follows Shawn out of the infirmary without looking at me again.

Amara gives a low whistle. “This is going to be a hard one. Our numbers really don’t lend well to a mixed expedition.”

“Indeed they don’t,” I agree. “But that’s what sets this up as a challenge, isn’t it? If I can find a way to wrap my head around this and actually pull it off, then I’ll have more than earned my place among you guys.”

Amara smiles with raised eyebrows, impressed. “There you are. Good to see I’ve already had such a positive influence on you.”

I chuckle, but it’s true. She leaves me with the list to work on my plan of action and I slip into the old me, the one who could isolate herself away from everything else and apply long-forgotten knowledge to any situation.

I stare at the list.

The pack total must be around one hundred wolves, a much smaller number than average. Less than one-third of them are experienced warriors, leaving me with thirty-four shifters to divide in an uneven split of hunters and patrol guards. There are way more patrol guards than hunters.

I think about the area around the territory, where they’d be most likely to find game to hunt. There is a hunting ground some distance away, one that lies between Ashborne and Greystone, another pack with higher numbers but less experienced fighters.

Then it hits me.

I know what I’m going to propose.

The patrol group will move out first, both spotting whether the grazing grounds are occupied and if there are other potential hunting groups on the prowl. Then they’ll split, the one half moving ahead to complete the patrol while the second circles back to the hunters and outlines where the game is located and if it’s possible to hunt.

After the hunters leave, the second group doubles back. If all things run smoothly, the two patrol groups will overlap and there will always be guards heading toward the rest of the waiting pack and as backup assistance for the hunters.

Everyone is protected and the numbers are optimized.

Pleased with myself, I lean back in the chair I’d poured myself in. For the first time since the attack, I feel more confident, like I can finally start to see some of my old self return.

And I know I have Shawn and Amara to thank for bringing that out of me. It’s strange to think that already, two people who were absolute strangers a week ago, have seen more in me than the pack who’s known me all my life.

I hope, so strongly that my body seems to convulse around the feeling, that I do not disappoint them.