The alpha's chosen mate

Chapter two

The Stranger in the Woods

By the following afternoon, Soina did her best to put the unsettling encounter with her grandmother to the back of her mind. She had a small class of village children to tutor, and focusing on their sums and dictation usually provided a welcome distraction from the strange secrets shadowing her home. Yet, as the final pupil packed away their slates and bid her good evening, the quiet rustle of the surrounding woods crept back into the room.

She gathered her leather-bound books from the oak trestle table, rolling her shoulders with a soft sigh. “Finally,” she murmured to herself.

She had scarcely finished straightening the schoolroom when a sharp, desperate knock rattled against the heavy oak door. Frowning, she unlatched it to find a middle-aged man standing on the flagstone step, clutching his waist with a trembling hand. A light sweat sheen on his forehead despite the autumn chill, and he leaned heavily against the stone doorframe, his breathing shallow and ragged.

“Please,” he rasped, his eyes darting anxiously past her. “Your grandmother… is she within?”

“No,” Soina said, observing his pained expression. “She walked down to the village high street an hour ago.”

“My stomach is aching fiercely,” the man confessed, wincing as he pressed harder against his ribs. “She usually brews a bitter draught that settles it.”

Soina glanced toward the dense line of ancient oaks edging the property. Her grandmother had spent years teaching her the local flora, and she knew precisely which wild herbs were needed to brew the remedy. “I know the plant she uses for that draught,” she assured him.

Relief washed across his haggard face. “Could you fetch some? Please?”

“I won't be long,” Soina said, snatching her gathering basket from the hall peg. “Wait inside if you like.”

She pulled the door to and set off along the well-trodden footpath leading into the timberland. Having walked these woods since childhood, she knew every bend and mossy root by heart. The cool evening air carried the scent of wet pine and fallen leaves as she stepped beneath the canopy, and within minutes, she spotted the silver-leafed herbs growing near a stone wall.

Crouching on the damp earth, she carefully snipped several sprigs. “Got you,” she muttered.

Just as she reached for her basket, a sound cut through the whisper of the wind. It wasn't the guttural growl from the previous night, but a raw, human groan.

Soina froze, her hand hovering over the leaves. The sound came again, echoing low and pained from further down the unmapped track. Common sense urged her to turn straight back to the cottage, but a headstrong curiosity had always been her greatest flaw.

“Hello?” she called out into the shadows, her voice crisp in the quiet air.

Receiving no reply, she took a cautious step off the beaten track. The brambles grew thicker, sharp briars snagging her wool cardigan as she parted the dense undergrowth.

Then she saw him.

A man lay sprawled upon the damp moss, utterly motionless. Soina’s heart hammered against her ribs. “Good heavens!” she gasped, dropping her basket and dropping to her knees beside him.

For a second, she was struck silent. He was strikingly handsome—not in a conventional manner, but with sharp, noble features that seemed entirely out of place in these woods. Dark, unruly hair tumbled across his brow, framing a strong jawline and deeply set brows above closed eyes. Even caked in mud and exhausted, an air of quiet authority clung to him. His broad shoulders stretched the fabric of a torn dark shirt, revealing jagged abrasions along his ribs.

“Right. Focus, Soina,” she chided herself softly.

She leaned down to check his pulse, relaxing slightly when she felt the steady rhythm against her fingers. But her relief vanished when she noticed a fresh, crimson stain soaking through the linen at his side.

“Who on earth are you?” she murmured to the empty clearing. There was no sign of a horse, a carriage, or a nearby cottage. He was simply lying here alone in the thick of the forest.

“Brilliant,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Just bloody brilliant.”

She patted his shoulder gently. “Excuse me? Can you hear me?”

Getting no response, she gave him a firmer shake. Instantly, his eyes snapped open.

Soina recoiled, almost losing her footing. His gaze was intense—a striking grey that locked onto hers with startling focus. Confusion flickered across his face, quickly replaced by a look of sharp astonishment, as though finding her in these woods was the last thing he had anticipated.

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

Soina stared at him, incredulous. “You’re the one lying unconscious in the middle of the woods, and I’m the one being interrogated?”

His jaw tightened as he attempted to push himself up, only to hiss through his teeth and collapse back onto the moss.

“Don’t move!” she commanded, leaning over him.

“I can manage—”

“No, you can’t.” She laid a firm hand against his shoulder, pinning him down.

He stared at her hand, then looked up into her eyes with an unreadable expression. Soina ignored the sudden tension thick between them.

“You’re bleeding,” she said plainly.

“I am aware.”

“Clearly.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, the ghost of a faint smirk gracing his lips despite his condition.

“We need to get you to the cottage in the village,” Soina insisted.

“No.”

She knitted her brows. “No?”

“I cannot go into the village.”

“Well, you are hardly in a position to haggle.”

His dark eyes held hers firmly. “You don't understand the situation.”

“Then enlighten me.”

He set his mouth in a hard line, refusing to elaborate. Soina let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But can you at least stand?”

He gritted his teeth and tried to haul himself up once more. The moment he reached his feet, his knees buckled. Soina moved on instinct, ducking under his arm to catch his weight. The sheer solid bulk of him nearly knocked her off balance, his arm draping heavily over her shoulders.

“Mind out!” she gasped, steadying her stance.

He looked down at her small frame. “You’re carrying me.”

“I had noticed,” she shot back, fighting to keep them both upright.

Despite his pale face, that subtle smirk returned to his lips. Soina glared at him. “Are you actually smiling right now?”

“No.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You definitely are.”

He turned his head away, though his shoulder shook slightly with a suppressed chuckle. Soina rolled her eyes, tightening her grip on his waist. “Handsome and tedious. What a marvelous combination.”

“Pardon?” he asked, catching her soft murmur.

“Nothing. Just move your feet.”

The trip back was exhausting, but Soina managed to navigate the hidden deer paths toward the edge of the parish, avoiding the high street until she reached the local apothecary's surgery. The old doctor agreed to treat his wounds quietly, leaving Soina to wait on the timber porch.

As she sat on the steps in the dusk, her mind kept returning to the stranger's eyes. There was something about the way he had looked at her—a flicker of recognition that felt unnervingly familiar, though she was certain they had never met.

Once the doctor confirmed the man was stable, Soina hurried back to her grandmother's cottage with the herbs, intending to tend to the visitor with the stomach ailment.

However, when she pushed open the front door, the hall was pitch black and silent.

“Hello?” she called out, her voice echoing off the timber panels. She checked the parlor, the kitchen, and the pantry, but found no trace of him. She frowned; she had only been gone forty minutes. How could a man doubled over in agony have departed so swiftly?

Then she noticed the front door latch. It hadn't been secured from within—it was resting ajar, swaying slightly in the evening draught.

A cold sensation settled in Soina’s chest as she stepped back out onto the quiet lane. Looking down the cobblestones toward the village square, and then back toward the looming line of dark oaks, an unsettling certainty took hold. She could not explain how, but she was convinced that the unwell gentleman who had come seeking her grandmother and the wounded stranger in the woods were bound to the very same secret.