5
1328 Words
Aaron’s POV
Three days. Three long, brutal days of waking and realizing I was still alive. Still breathing. Still whole. Every stretch of my shoulder, every shift of my ribs, reminded me how close I’d come to not seeing another sunrise. But with each movement, each test of strength, I could feel the power returning. I was no longer weak. Not fully. Not in body, not in mind.
The Ravenwood Pack’s stronghold felt… safe. Organized. Every face, every hallway, every detail radiated loyalty. But my mind wasn’t in the present. It drifted to the night Maeve found me…the rogue woman who had crouched beside me, who had kept me alive when death was closer than breath.
I flexed my injured shoulder carefully, testing its strength, aware of every tiny pain. Lucas, my Beta, had been patient but nonstop in keeping me updated.
“The dart,” he said quietly as I finally managed to sit upright, “was coated with something… toxic. Not just any drug. Something designed to suppress your healing. Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing.”
I closed my eyes, remembering the sharp burn when Maeve pulled it free. My body had fought back, but slowly, painfully. That slow fight almost killed me. That slow fight had introduced me to her.
The door opened mid-morning, but not silently. Footsteps, soft but deliberate, paused just inside. My mother entered with the kind of presence that filled the room, commanding without shouting. She carried herself with authority, but her eyes softened the instant they landed on me.
“Aaron,” she said, crouching slightly to examine the bandages. Her hands hovered for a moment over my chest, then my shoulder, careful but firm. “You’re awake. Good. I don’t like being told my son was fighting death without me knowing.”
“I had someone else for that,” I said quietly, keeping my voice low, controlled.
Her gaze sharpened. “I don’t need to know her name,” she said, though I could feel her thinking it. Maeve. She knew, somehow. I didn’t correct her. Not now. Not yet.
She pressed her hand to my shoulder, lingering for a second longer than necessary. “Rest,” she said finally. “We’ll handle everything else. Ravenwood can’t wait for its Alpha to heal slowly.”
I nodded. “I know.” But my mind was already elsewhere. Maeve.
Almost immediately, a knock sounded on the door frame. Elias stepped in, his movements measured but natural, as if he had rehearsed entering a room like this a hundred times and still made it seem casual. He had that calm aura that put others at ease. Older, taller, steady…my half-brother, my confidant, my best friend.
“You look… like a human again,” he said with a teasing grin. “I was beginning to think you’d never sit up without needing a crane.”
I tried to smile, but the pain and exhaustion made it flicker. “I’ll manage,” I said, letting him help adjust my pillow.
He didn’t push, didn’t fuss. Just moved with quiet precision, checking the bandages, adjusting the blankets. “Good,” he said. “Because I’d hate carrying you around like a spoiled child. Not that I wouldn’t do it… just… reluctantly.”
The way he moved, the calm in his voice, grounded me. He wasn’t my father’s son by blood, but the loyalty, the respect, the bond we’d built over years made him inseparable from me.
…
Then Lila arrived.
I heard the soft, uneven patter of her footsteps before I saw her. The door opened slowly, and she stepped in, hesitant, scanning the room like she feared it might collapse if she moved too quickly. When her eyes found me, everything changed. Relief slammed into her like a wave, and she rushed forward without thinking.
Her arms wrapped around me tightly, nails pressing into my shoulders, and I could feel her heartbeat racing against mine. “I was so scared,” she whispered, voice trembling. “I thought I’d lose you.”
I held her for a moment, letting her squeeze out the fear, her warmth grounding me. “You won’t,” I said, calm on the surface, even though my mind was calculating every risk, every threat. “Not while I breathe.”
She didn’t release me. Her hands dug into me lightly, almost desperate, and I felt that spark of something I couldn’t name, tangled with my memories of Maeve. I let her do it for a few seconds longer, feeling her fear, her vulnerability, her love. But part of my mind, the sharp, calculating part, was already thinking about the attack, the dart, the people who wanted me dead.
Lila finally pulled back, searching my face. “You’re… okay?” she asked softly.
I nodded. “I will be. Soon.”
Her lips brushed my forehead briefly. I let her do it. I needed her presence, even if my attention couldn’t fully belong to her right now.
…
The knock this time was firmer. Heavier.
The door opened and Rowan stepped in.
Head warrior. Broad shoulders. Sharp eyes that missed nothing. Rowan didn’t speak unless it mattered, and when he did, people listened. He carried a folder tucked under his arm, his jaw tight in a way that told me this wasn’t routine.
“Alpha,” he said, dipping his head once. “I need a moment.”
Lucas straightened immediately, stepping aside. Lila moved back instinctively, sensing the shift.
“Talk,” I said.
Rowan placed the folder on the table beside me. “We followed the trail from the poison compound. Not inside the pack. Outside our borders. There’s a location coordinating movement. Supplies. Watch patterns.”
“A base?” I asked.
“Not exactly,” he replied. “It’s a working property. Cattle ranch. Independent owner. Small operation, but clean. Too clean.”
My chest tightened without warning.
Rowan opened the folder. Maps. Notes. Photos. Timelines. Every page was precise. Thought-out. Professional.
“This place lines up with the night you were attacked,” he continued. “One of my patrol units recognized the access routes. I already sent men to secure the area quietly.”
I reached for the folder, flipping through it slowly.
Then I saw her.
Standing near the edge of one photograph. Sleeves rolled up. Hair pulled back. Hands stained dark with dried blood that wasn’t hers.
My breath hitched.
Memory slammed into me all at once. Her voice. Her hands. The way she refused to leave me even when she thought I might die right there in the dirt.
Maeve.
The realization settled heavy and sharp in my chest.
I snapped the folder shut and pushed myself upright, ignoring the sharp protest from my ribs.
“Rowan,” I said, voice low, controlled but tight. “Your men. They’re already moving?”
“Yes, Alpha.”
“How far out?”
“Minutes.”
Lila stepped closer, confusion written across her face. “Aaron… what is it?”
I didn’t answer her. I couldn’t.
Because everything finally connected.
The location. The timing. The woman who had been there when I should’ve died.
“She’s not a threat,” I said quietly, more to myself than anyone else.
Rowan frowned. “Alpha?”
I clenched my fists, power rolling through me, sharp and restless. My pack was loyal. Efficient. Already executing orders.
And they had no idea who they were about to face.
“My men…” I murmured. “They’re walking straight into her world.”
Lila's voice shook. “Who?”
I swallowed hard.
“Maeve,” I said under my breath. “It’s her.”
The room fell silent.
I stared at the folder, heart pounding, mind torn between duty and something far more dangerous.
The operation had already begun.
And the woman who saved my life was standing at the center of it.
- Writer
