Forbidden Howls

Chapter 12: Healing Wounds

The world drifted in and out for Lia, her mind hazy with pain and exhaustion. She felt the gentle rocking motion as Kael carried her through the dense forest, her head resting against his chest. His heartbeat was a steady rhythm, a comfort amid the chaos swirling around her.

The pain in her arm flared again, sharp and insistent, but she forced herself to stay conscious. Every breath felt like a battle, and every step Kael took felt like a reminder of how close they had come to losing everything.

“Just hold on,” Kael’s voice came softly from above her, his breath warm against her hair. “We’re almost there.”

Lia didn’t respond, but she pressed her forehead against his chest, trying to steady her breathing. She could hear the urgency in his voice, the undercurrent of fear despite the strength he was showing for her sake. It was strange—here she was, a Blackstone wolf in the arms of a Silverclaw Alpha, and yet, in that moment, all that mattered was survival. The weight of their packs’ tensions felt distant, as though it belonged to a different world.

The forest opened up, and through her fogged vision, Lia saw the familiar rooftops of the Silverclaw compound rising against the darkening sky. The cold mountain air pressed against her skin, but Kael’s warmth shielded her from it.

“We’ll be safe here,” Kael murmured, his voice a promise as he quickened his pace.

They entered the compound, and Lia could feel eyes on them—Silverclaw warriors staring, no doubt wondering why their Alpha was carrying a wounded woman from a rival pack. She didn’t have the strength to care. She felt herself slipping further into the haze of pain.

“Get the healer, now!” Kael barked to one of his men as they passed through the main gates. Lia heard the urgency in his voice, the protective fury that simmered just below the surface.

He carried her up the steps and into one of the large wooden buildings, her vision blurring as the light changed. The scent of herbs and wood smoke filled the air, and she vaguely registered the warmth of a fire crackling in the hearth.

Kael laid her gently on a bed, his movements careful as though he feared hurting her further. His face hovered above hers, concern etched into every line of his expression.

“Lia, stay with me,” he whispered, his hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re going to be okay.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, but she forced them open again. She didn’t want to fall into the darkness—not yet.

The door to the room burst open, and a woman rushed in, her long gray hair braided tightly behind her head. The Silverclaw healer, Lia realized, though her mind was too foggy to remember the woman’s name.

“She’s been cut—her arm,” Kael said quickly, moving back to give the healer space. “She’s lost a lot of blood.”

The healer nodded sharply, already moving to Lia’s side. Her hands were quick and practiced as she examined the wound, her brow furrowing.

“It’s deep,” the healer murmured, her fingers probing the wound with expert care. “But it’s not fatal.”

Lia let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through her despite the pain. She wasn’t going to die—not today.

Kael watched anxiously as the healer worked, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He had never felt so powerless. Lia lay pale and wounded on the bed, and all he could do was stand there and wait. His mind churned with emotions he couldn’t fully grasp—anger at Damon for his recklessness, fear for Lia’s safety, and something deeper, something he was afraid to acknowledge.

He had grown attached to her—too attached.

She was Blackstone, a rival, and yet in his heart, she had become something much more. He couldn’t deny the way his pulse quickened when she was near, the fierce need to protect her that had taken root inside him.

But what could come of it? Their packs were still on the brink of war, and the distance between them seemed insurmountable. If Damon couldn’t be reasoned with, the bloodshed would start again—and this time, Lia might not be so lucky.

The healer finished wrapping Lia’s arm, securing the bandages with a practiced hand. “She’ll need rest,” the healer said, turning to Kael. “And someone to keep an eye on her. The wound will heal, but she’s weak from the blood loss.”

Kael nodded, his eyes never leaving Lia’s face. “Thank you.”

The healer gave him a curt nod before turning to leave the room, her footsteps fading into the hallway.

Kael moved to the edge of the bed, his eyes scanning Lia’s pale face. She looked so fragile, so small against the backdrop of his world. But he knew better. Lia was anything but fragile.

He reached out, his hand hovering just above hers before he gently grasped it, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. She stirred slightly, her brow furrowing as she fought to stay conscious.

“You’re safe,” Kael whispered, his voice low and full of promise. “Rest now. I’ll stay with you.”

Back in the Blackstone compound, Damon sat alone in his quarters, his hands shaking as he replayed the events in the clearing over and over again in his mind.

He had struck Lia. He had lost control.

He hadn’t meant to—he’d never meant to hurt her—but his jealousy, his anger, had clouded his judgment. And now, the woman he cared about was lying in the arms of another man. Another Alpha.

His stomach twisted with guilt, and he couldn’t shake the image of Lia crumpling to the ground, blood seeping through her clothes. The look of fear in her eyes as she had stepped between him and Kael haunted him, and the weight of his actions pressed down on his chest, suffocating him.

He had been so blinded by his hatred for Kael that he had forgotten what mattered most—Lia.

Damon clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he struggled to contain the storm raging inside him. He had to make this right. Somehow, he had to fix this.

But how?

How could he undo the damage he had done? How could he face Lia after what had happened?

A knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts, and he straightened, wiping the moisture from his eyes before calling out, “Come in.”

The door creaked open, and his Beta, Ronan, stepped inside. His face was grim, his eyes filled with concern.

“We need to talk,” Ronan said, his voice quiet but firm. “About what happened today.”

Damon tensed, his heart racing. He knew what was coming—he had failed as a leader, as a protector. But hearing it from his Beta would make it real.

“I lost control,” Damon admitted, his voice hoarse. “I hurt her.”

Ronan didn’t flinch. “You did. But what matters now is what you do next.”

Damon looked up at his Beta, guilt and frustration warring inside him. “What can I do? She’s with Kael now. I don’t know if she’ll ever come back.”

Ronan crossed his arms, his gaze steady. “You need to apologize, Damon. Not just to her, but to the pack. Your actions today put all of us at risk. You need to show them that you understand the consequences.”

Damon’s stomach twisted, but he knew Ronan was right. He couldn’t let his personal feelings destroy the pack. He had to take responsibility for what had happened, even if it meant swallowing his pride.

“I’ll fix this,” Damon said, though the words felt hollow. “I don’t know how, but I will.”

Ronan nodded, his expression softening slightly. “Start with an apology. And then… maybe the rest will follow.”

Damon took a deep breath, nodding slowly. He didn’t know if an apology would be enough, but it was a start.

Hours passed, and Lia drifted in and out of consciousness, her dreams filled with fragments of the battle, Damon’s rage, and Kael’s steady presence by her side.

When she finally woke, the room was dimly lit, and the scent of burning herbs filled the air. She blinked, her vision slowly focusing on the figure sitting beside her bed—Kael.

He was leaning forward, his head resting in his hand as if he had fallen asleep watching over her. His other hand still held hers, the warmth of his touch grounding her in the present.

“Kael…” she whispered, her voice weak but steady.

His eyes snapped open, and he straightened immediately, his grip tightening on her hand. Relief washed over his face as he met her gaze.

“Lia,” he said softly, leaning closer. “How do you feel?”

“Like I was hit by a boulder,” Lia murmured, a small, wry smile tugging at her lips.

Kael chuckled softly, though the concern never left his eyes. “You were incredibly lucky, you know. If you hadn’t moved just in time…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but Lia understood. She had narrowly avoided a far worse fate.

“I couldn’t let you two kill each other,” she said, her voice hoarse. “There’s been enough blood.”

Kael’s expression softened, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a gentle, reassuring motion. “You stopped the fight. That’s what matters.”

Lia looked up at him, her heart heavy with everything that had happened. “Damon… has he gone back to Blackstone?”

Kael nodded, his gaze hardening slightly at the mention of Damon. “Yes. He called off the attack, but this isn’t over. The tension between our packs… it’s still there, waiting to erupt again.”

Lia closed her eyes for a moment, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. She had managed to stop the battle for now, but the underlying issues remained unresolved. Her presence in Silverclaw territory would only complicate matters further.

“We have to find a way to stop this,” Lia whispered. “There has to be a way for Blackstone and Silverclaw to work together—before it’s too late.”

Kael sighed, his expression darkening as he leaned back in his chair. “I agree. But I’m not sure Damon will listen to reason, not after everything that’s happened. His anger… it’s clouding his judgment.”

Lia nodded, feeling the same worry settle in her chest. Damon’s jealousy had driven him to a dangerous place, and if they didn’t find a way to mend the rift between the packs, more blood would be spilled.

But for now, all Lia could do was rest.

She closed her eyes, exhaustion pulling her under once again. Kael’s presence beside her was a comfort, a reminder that she wasn’t alone in this fight. Together, they would find a way to stop the war—no matter how difficult it might be.