Rejected Luna’s Vegas Redemption

### Chapter 3 (Amber’s POV)

Survivor

My eyes fluttered open, white light piercing my vision. I lay on a soft bed, the sharp scent of herbs and antiseptic thick in the air. My body felt heavy but strangely painless, except for a faint throb in my leg. I touched it, expecting blood, but found a bandage. A burn mark, shaped like Vivian’s glowing rune, peeked from the edge, its edges oddly faded. I was in a hospital room, but how? Last night, I’d collapsed on a dark road, blood seeping from my leg, a shadow with red eyes looming over me. My heart raced as I sat up, my head spinning.

My fingers brushed the silver necklace I’d worn since childhood, its pendant warm against my skin. It felt alive, pulsing faintly, like it had shielded me. A Whitestone blacksmith once told me it was rare, forged to protect its wearer from dark magic, maybe even curses. I’d thought he was joking, but now, with Vivian’s rune burned into my leg, I wasn’t sure.

The door creaked open, and an older man in a white coat stepped in, a stethoscope around his neck. His gray eyes were kind, reminding me of Sam’s quiet sympathy back at the Whitestone Pack. “You’re awake,” he said, smiling softly. “How do you feel?” He checked my pulse, shining a light in my eyes.

“Where am I?” I asked, my voice shaky.

“You’re in Silverfang’s pack hospital,” he said, removing a needle from my hand. “You’re safe here.”

I sipped the water he offered, my mind racing. Silverfang? A pack I’d never heard of. “Who brought me here?” I asked. Memories flooded back—Archie’s rejection, the mate bond’s searing pain, the shadow’s growl. And Vivian’s rune, glowing like a threat.

“A young man found you last night,” the doctor said. “You’d lost a lot of blood. That burn on your leg it’s no ordinary wound. But your necklace…” He glanced at my pendant, his brow furrowing. “It’s old magic, likely what kept you alive.”

My breath caught. The blacksmith’s words echoed: Protect it. It counters darkness. Had it weakened Vivian’s curse? “What do you mean?” I asked, clutching the necklace.

“We’ll talk later,” he said. “For now, rest. You’ve been through a lot.” He hesitated, his face softening. “I’m sorry, but we couldn’t save your baby.”

My chest tightened, like a rope choking my heart. I curled into the bed, my breath hitching. “Baby?” I whispered, tears burning my eyes. “I was pregnant?”

He nodded gently. “About eight weeks. The blood loss was too much, likely from that rune’s curse. Your necklace slowed it, but not enough.”

Tears spilled down my cheeks. Archie’s baby was gone before I’d known it existed. I’d mistaken nausea for stress, too caught in his betrayal to notice. My wolf whimpered, weakened by the rejection, unable to comfort me. “I didn’t know,” I sobbed, gripping the blanket.

The doctor touched my shoulder. “The man who saved you is here. Can he come in?”

I wiped my face, nodding. The doctor left, and a tall man stepped inside. He had dark curly hair and a warm smile, but his green eyes were nervous. “I’m Benjamin,” he said, sitting beside me. “How are you feeling?”

I couldn’t stop crying. “The doctor said I lost a baby,” I said, my voice breaking. “I didn’t know I was pregnant.”

Benjamin’s face softened. “Don’t blame yourself. You’re alive, and that’s a miracle.” His tone sharpened. “Why were you out there alone, in the cold?”

I swallowed hard. “My mate, Archie, rejected me. I caught him with his lover, Vivian. He threw me out of the Whitestone Pack.” My voice cracked. “I loved him. He was my mate. I lost his baby. I need to tell him.”

Benjamin’s jaw clenched, anger flashing. “Tell him? Amber, he kicked you out in the middle of the night. If he hurt you this much, he’ll do worse if you go back.”

I stared, stunned. “How do you know my name? Or Archie?”

He pointed to my necklace. “Your name’s engraved here. And Archie? Whitestone’s alpha isn’t quiet about his… choices.” He hesitated, then added, “That burn on your leg it’s a witch’s mark. Your necklace fought it, or you’d be dead.”

My heart pounded. The blacksmith’s warning rang true. “This necklace… it’s been with me since I was a baby,” I said. “A blacksmith said it’s rare, meant to protect me from curses. Is that why Vivian’s rune didn’t kill me?”

Benjamin’s eyes widened. “You were found in the woods, weren’t you?” His voice was tight, like he knew more than he said.

I nodded, confused. “Yes. I was an orphan. Why?”

He pulled a necklace from under his shirt, identical to mine, its silver pendant gleaming. “My father gave me this,” he said. “He said it’s tied to our family, lost years ago.”

My breath caught. “Your father?” Fear and hope swirled in my chest. The blacksmith’s words echoed: It’ll lead you home.

“We need to talk,” Benjamin said, standing. “You’re ready to leave the hospital.”

I hesitated, my legs shaky, but his kind eyes made me trust him. The doctor gave me clean clothes, and I changed the bandage on my leg itching. The rune-shaped burn still lingered, but my necklace felt warmer, like a shield. Was it really countering Vivian’s curse?

Benjamin led me to a car in the hospital lot. As we drove, I stared at the forest blurring past. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“Silverfang packhouse,” he said. “Someone wants to meet you.”

We stopped at a large wooden house surrounded by pines. Pack members stood outside, their eyes curious but warm. A young girl waved shyly, unlike Whitestone’s cold stares. My necklace grew hot, like it sensed something. Benjamin guided me forward, and a man stepped from the crowd. He was older, with green eyes like mine and a gentle smile. My heart skipped. He felt… familiar.

“Dad!” Benjamin called, grinning. “Look who the Moon Goddess brought us. I’ve suspected she’s one of ours for a year.”

The man’s eyes met mine, tears welling. “Amber, my daughter,” he said, his voice trembling.

My world tilted. Daughter? I’d been an orphan, alone my whole life. But his eyes, his voice, they sparked a forgotten warmth, like a dream I’d buried. My pain, Archie's betrayal, the miscarriage flooded out, and I ran to him, throwing myself into his arms. “Dad,” I sobbed, the words sweet and strange. “Dad.”

He held me tight, his shirt smelling of pine and safety. “Sixteen years ago, rogues attacked us in the Blackwood Forest,” he whispered. “Your mother died, and you vanished. I never stopped searching.”

Tears soaked my cheeks as I clung to him. I wasn’t alone anymore. But questions burned: how had I reached Whitestone? Why did our necklaces match? And why was Vivian’s rune haunting me?

My necklace flared against my chest, hot and sharp. I gasped, pulling it free. The pendant glowed, its silver pulsing like Vivian’s rune. My father’s face paled. “Where did you see that symbol?” he asked, his voice low.

“Vivian,” I said, my throat dry. “Archie’s lover. Her wrist had a rune like this. It burned my leg last night, before I collapsed.”

Benjamin’s eyes darkened. “That’s a witch’s mark,” he said. “Silverfang has been tracking a coven cursing wolves, weakening packs. Your necklace it’s crafted to counter their magic, but it’s not enough alone.”

My stomach twisted. Vivian, a witch? Her cruel smile flashed in my mind, her rune glowing as Archie rejected me. Had she cursed my miscarriage? My wolf growled, stirring despite the rejection’s toll. A sharp howl pierced the air, chilling my blood. Pack members froze, their faces tense.

“Rogues,” my father said, grabbing my arm. “Or worse. Stay close.”

The howl grew louder, and a shadow slunk through the trees tall, its red eyes glinting with a sickly green haze, like Vivian’s rune. My necklace burned brighter, its glow matching the burn on my leg. Fear gripped me.

A voice hissed in my mind, cold and familiar. “You can’t hide, Amber.” Vivian’s voice. My eyes widened as the packhouse lights flickered, shadows creeping in. The pendant flared, its light pushing back the darkness, but the shadow lunged closer, its growl shaking the earth.