Chapter 6 - Three Days Gone
1351 Words
Raven woke to the smell of something delicious.
For several moments, she remained still, trying to understand where she was. Warmth surrounded her, and the surface beneath her body was softer than anything she had expected to find after waking in the middle of a forest. The memory of the attack returned slowly, followed by the painful awareness of every injury she had sustained.
Her ribs ached whenever she breathed, her muscles felt bruised from the fight, and her throat was still raw from Roman's hands. When she tried to shift her position, pain travelled through her body and forced a quiet groan from her.
The wound on her face was worse.
A deep, throbbing pain spread from her forehead toward her cheekbone, pulsing with every beat of her heart. Raven lifted her hand instinctively before stopping just short of the bandages covering the injury.
She stared at the unfamiliar ceiling.
Where was she?
The last thing she remembered was Silas carrying her through the forest.
Her eyes moved slowly around the room.
It was a cabin, although it was considerably larger and better maintained than she would have expected from someone living this far away from the packs. The walls were made from neatly fitted timber, the furniture was simple but sturdy, and a large stone fireplace filled the room with a comfortable warmth. Shelves lined one wall beside a wooden table and several cupboards, while everything appeared carefully arranged and surprisingly clean.
Raven tried to sit up.
The pain that followed made her immediately regret the attempt.
She sank back against the pillow, breathing carefully until the worst of it passed.
Footsteps sounded somewhere nearby.
Her entire body tensed.
Raven turned toward the doorway and watched Silas appear.
He stopped when he noticed she was awake, his storm-blue eyes settling on her before he slowly approached the bed.
Raven's instincts immediately became alert.
She couldn't feel her wolf properly yet, and her body was so weak that she doubted she could stand without falling. If Silas wanted to hurt her, she had very little ability to stop him.
The thought made her fingers tighten around the blanket.
Then she dismissed it.
He had carried her here when he could have left her in the forest. He had spent days keeping her alive when she had been close to death. Whatever kind of man he was, he had already had countless opportunities to hurt her.
Silas pulled a wooden chair closer and sat beside the bed, leaving enough distance between them that Raven didn't feel cornered.
“How long?” she asked.
Her voice sounded rough and unfamiliar.
“You've been unconscious for three days.”
Raven stared at him.
“Three days?”
He nodded.
She looked toward the window, trying to process how much time had passed. Roman had left her believing she would die alone, and somewhere during those three days, she had remained completely unaware of whether her body would survive.
“How bad was it?”
Silas considered the question before answering.
“It was touch and go.”
Raven looked back at him.
“You mean I almost died?”
“Yes.”
His calm response made her study him.
He didn't seem disturbed by the memory, but there was something different in his eyes when he looked at her. His usual guarded expression had softened slightly, and Raven caught a strange hint of admiration there.
“You're looking at me strangely.”
“You survived.”
“I noticed.”
“You shouldn't have.”
Raven's brow furrowed.
Silas's gaze moved briefly toward the bandage covering her face before returning to hers.
“The poison was strong, and you had already lost a lot of blood before I found you. By the time I got you here, I wasn't sure you'd survive the first night.”
Raven absorbed that quietly.
“So why did I?”
“You fought.”
A faint smile touched her mouth.
“That's what I do.”
“I noticed.”
The quiet way he said it made her smile a little more, although the movement pulled painfully at the wound on her face.
Raven winced and instinctively lifted her hand toward the bandage.
Silas caught her wrist before her fingers reached it.
His grip was firm but careful.
“Don't touch it.”
Raven looked down at his hand around her wrist, then back at him.
For a second, that same uneasiness returned.
She was completely at his mercy.
Silas released her almost immediately.
“I wanted to see it.”
“You'll see it soon enough.”
“What if it looks terrible?”
His expression remained unreadable.
“Are you worried about the scar?”
Raven hesitated.
She had never cared much about scars before. Every warrior carried them, and most were simply reminders of battles survived. This one was different because Roman had put it there deliberately, carving his anger into her face because he wanted her to carry the memory of him.
“I don't know,” she admitted.
Silas studied her for a moment.
“You're alive.”
Raven looked at him.
“That matters more.”
The words should have made her feel better, but thinking about being alive brought everything else rushing back.
Roman.
Vance.
Cameron.
The poison.
The attack.
Her fingers tightened around the blanket.
Silas noticed the change in her expression.
“You're thinking about them.”
“Roman.”
His name carried enough bitterness that Silas didn't need to ask which of them she meant.
Raven stared toward the fire.
“He thinks I'm dead.”
Silas remained quiet.
“He'll believe he got away with it. He'll wake up tomorrow, walk through his pack and continue his life as though he didn't leave me bleeding in the forest.”
Her voice hardened as the anger returned.
“He'll probably think he finally solved his problem.”
Silas watched her carefully.
Raven turned her attention back to him.
“I told you I was going back.”
“I remember.”
“When I'm strong enough.”
His gaze remained fixed on her.
“And then what?”
Raven's expression hardened.
“I'll make him regret what he did.”
Silas was quiet for several seconds.
“You think revenge will fix it?”
“No.”
Her answer came without hesitation.
“It won't give me back what he took from me, and it won't erase what happened. I still need to finish it.”
Silas leaned back slightly.
“You're planning all of this while you can barely sit up.”
Raven gave him a tired look.
“I have time to think about it.”
Something almost resembling amusement touched his expression.
“Eat first.”
Raven glanced toward the table.
The smell that had woken her had become impossible to ignore. A bowl of steaming stew sat beside a loaf of fresh bread, and her stomach betrayed her with a loud growl.
Silas looked at her.
Raven sighed.
“Fine.”
He stood and picked up the bowl, bringing it toward her.
As he handed it over, their eyes met again.
There was still that quiet admiration in his gaze, although Raven couldn't understand it. He barely knew her, and she knew almost nothing about him beyond the fact that he lived alone in the wilderness and had chosen to save a woman he had found half-dead in the forest.
For now, that was enough.
She accepted the bowl carefully and took her first bite.
The warmth spread through her body, easing some of the emptiness left by three days without food.
Silas returned to his chair.
Neither of them spoke for a while.
Raven ate slowly, watching him from the corner of her eye.
She still didn't know whether she could trust him.
Silas seemed equally content to let her decide that for herself.
And strangely, after everything Roman had taken from her, having someone give her a choice felt like the first good thing that had happened to her in days.
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