The Alpha's Slave

CHAPTER EIGHT

The news of the attack reached Aurora like a cold wave, washing over her with a chilling dread. The whispers of the townsfolk, the hushed tones, the worried faces, all painted a grim picture of what had transpired in Dawnsville. Jaxon, her alpha, her mate, had been injured. The thought of him, wounded and vulnerable, sent a shiver down her spine, a pang of fear that tightened her chest.

She had been in the kitchen, preparing a simple meal, her mind lost in thoughts of the alpha, when the news arrived. A young wolf, his face pale and drawn, stumbled into the house, his words tumbling out in a torrent of anxiety.

"Aurora, you need to come to the clinic. Jaxon… he's been hurt."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis, the familiar sounds of the house fading into a distant hum. She felt a surge of panic, a primal instinct to protect her mate, to be by his side. She grabbed her cloak, her hands trembling, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Tell me what happened," she urged, her voice strained. "How badly is he hurt?"

The young wolf hesitated, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and sympathy. "The insurgents… they attacked Dawnsville. Jaxon was leading the pack… he was wounded."

Aurora felt a wave of nausea, her stomach churning with a sickening dread. She knew the insurgents were dangerous, ruthless, capable of unimaginable cruelty. The thought of Jaxon facing them, fighting for his life, filled her with a terror she had never known before.

"Is he… is he alright?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

The young wolf shook his head, his eyes downcast. "He's alive, Aurora. But he's badly hurt."

With a surge of adrenaline, Aurora rushed out of the house, her steps hurried, her mind racing. She reached the clinic, a small, unassuming building on the outskirts of town, her heart pounding in her chest. The air inside was thick with the scent of antiseptic and fear, the hushed whispers of the townsfolk a constant reminder of the tragedy that had unfolded.

She pushed through the crowd, her eyes searching for the alpha. There he was, lying on a cot in the back room, his face pale, his breathing shallow. His fur was matted with blood, his wounds visible even through his thick coat. He looked weak, vulnerable, a far cry from the powerful alpha she knew.

She rushed to his side, her hand reaching out to touch his face. He opened his eyes, a flicker of recognition in their depths. He smiled weakly, a gesture that sent a wave of relief washing over her.

"Aurora," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "You're here."

"I'm here, Jaxon," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "I'm here."

She leaned down, her forehead resting against his. She could feel the warmth of his body, the faint thrum of his heartbeat, a reassuring sign that he was still alive. But the pain in his eyes, the weariness in his voice, told a different story. He was hurt, deeply hurt.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

He closed his eyes, a grimace crossing his face. "The insurgents," he said, his voice raspy. "They ambushed us… they were waiting for us."

"How badly are you hurt?" she asked, her voice laced with fear.

He opened his eyes, his gaze meeting hers. "It's just a flesh wound," he said, trying to sound reassuring. "Nothing serious."

But Aurora knew better. She could see the pain in his eyes, the exhaustion in his movements. He was trying to downplay his injuries, to protect her from worry. But she knew, deep down, that he was hurting.

"Jaxon," she said, her voice firm. "You need to rest. You need to let the healers take care of you."

He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I know, Aurora," he said. "But I'm alright. I can handle it."

"No, Jaxon," she said, her voice unwavering. "You need to let them help you. You need to rest."

He looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and frustration. He knew she was right, but he hated the feeling of helplessness, the need to rely on others.

"Alright," he said, his voice resigned. "But I'll be watching you."

She smiled, a small, reassuring gesture. "I know you will," she said. "And I'll be here with you, every step of the way."

The healers, skilled in the art of healing, tended to Jaxon's wounds, their movements gentle, their touch reassuring. Aurora watched, her heart filled with a mixture of anxiety and relief. She wanted to take his pain away, to shield him from the darkness that threatened to consume him. But all she could do was be there, by his side, a silent testament to her love and devotion.

As the healers worked, Aurora sat by Jaxon's side, her hand resting on his, her gaze fixed on his face. She spoke softly, telling him stories of their life together, of their shared dreams, of the future they would build together. She wanted to fill his mind with images of joy and hope, to distract him from the pain that gnawed at him.

"Are you worried about me?" he asked, his voice a soft rasp.

She looked at him, her eyes filled with concern. "Of course I'm worried," she said. "You're my alpha, my mate. I can't help but worry about you."

He smiled, a weak, fleeting gesture. "I know," he said. "But you don't need to worry. I'm going to be alright."

"I know," she said, her voice filled with conviction. "You're strong, Jaxon. You're a fighter. You'll overcome this."

He squeezed her hand, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Aurora," he said. "For being here, for always being there for me."

She leaned down, her forehead resting against his. "I'll always be here, Jaxon," she whispered. "Always."

The scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, a reminder of the pain and fear that had gripped the town. But as Aurora sat by Jaxon's side, her hand in his, she felt a sense of peace, a feeling of hope that whispered of a brighter future. They would overcome this, together. Their love, their bond, their shared destiny, would see them through.