The Alpha’s Forbidden Mate

SIX: BLOOD AND CARE

[LIORA POINT OF VIEW]

The rain began as a soft drizzle at first, then thickened. Drumming on the canopy above and turning the forest floor into a slick carpet of mud and leaves.

Each drop clung to my hair and uniform, soaking through to my skin, but I barely noticed.

My hands shook as I reached the small clearing, where the unconscious man lay.

His chest rose and fell, shallow and uneven, and streaks of dirt and blood marred his clothes.

I knelt beside him, rain mixing with the crimson stains. "I need to get you somewhere safe," I murmured, pressing a trembling hand to his wounds.

My mind raced. The cabin wasn't close enough—he needed shelter, warmth, something clean to patch him up.

The forest loomed around us, thick and shadowed, the rain blurring trunks into dark shapes that shifted in the corner of my vision. Every snapping twig and rustle of leaves made my heart jump. But I couldn't leave him here, not even for a moment.

I thought back to the last time I had run through this forest after Rhian and her gang had humiliated me, leaving bruises and scrapes all over my arms and legs.

I remembered the small first-aid kit I had hidden under the cabin floorboards for moments like that.

It wasn't much, but it had saved me once—I hoped it could save someone else now.

Back then, fear had been personal, small—about being seen, being mocked. Now, it was different.

This fear was heavier, laced with urgency, with the knowledge that a life depended on my next steps.

My grip tightened on the boy's arm.

I had to move, had to act, had to get him to safety before the rain and the dark swallowed us both.

I hauled him over my shoulders as best as I could, his weight dragging me down, his blood staining my hands.

Every step was agony, but I kept going, adrenaline and worry pushing me forward.

"This man... is ridiculously heavy," I muttered under my breath, wincing as his weight dug into my arms. "Seriously, did he eat a forest or something? and with muscles like that... maybe he's older than me."

Mud clung to my shoes, sucking at every step as if the forest itself wanted me to fail.

Branches snagged my hair, whipping my face, and I stumbled over hidden roots more times than I cared to count.

Each slip made me yelp, curse, and laugh at my own ridiculousness. "Oh sure, Liora, you're supposed to be the hero today. Carrying a man through a swamp while looking like a drowned rat—perfect plan."

Rain plastered my hair and soaked my uniform, drenching me to the bone.

My arms burned, legs screamed, and the guy in my arms... well, he was completely oblivious.

I muttered under my breath again, "If he wakes up and sees me like this, he's either going to laugh or punch me. Honestly, can't decide which one I would survive."

Then a particularly deep puddle grabbed my foot, sending me off balance. I flailed, arms trembling, nearly dropping him. "Okay, universe! Really? Right now?" I gasped, tightening my grip. "You could at least wait until I get him to somewhere safe!"

Still, I pushed forward. Every step, every splash, every muddy stumble reminded me just how much I cared. He needed me, and despite the ridiculousness of the situation, despite the humor in his weight and the chaos of the forest, I wouldn't leave him behind. Not for anything.

Finally, I reached the cabin. The door was weak, hanging slightly off its hinges.

I pushed it open and set him gently on the dusty floorboards.

Grimacing at the ache in my arms.

I dug under the floorboards and pulled out the small first-aid kit, my fingers shaking as I opened it.

Bandages, clean cloth, a small bottle of antiseptic—I grabbed everything I could.

Carefully, I started cleaning his wounds, wrapping the worst of them with strips of cloth. His breathing was shallow, each rasping inhale a struggle.

Then my gaze fell on the deepest cut. My stomach twisted. It wasn't just bad; it was terrifying. No hospital nearby could treat this and I knew it. I was completely on my own.

Panic clawed at my chest, but I forced it down, squaring my shoulders. "Okay... think, Liora. You can do this," I muttered under my breath, gripping the cloth tighter.

My hands shook despite my determination.

The blood smelled sharp and metallic in the damp forest air, a constant reminder of how fragile he was.

I paused, my brow furrowing as I examined his injuries. The cuts were jagged, deep, as if caused by claws or teeth, not anything a normal human could survive.

My stomach churned. Wild animals? Maybe... but some of these look too precise, too violent...

He tried to respond, a small sound escaping his lips, and I gripped his hand, letting him know I was there.

"You're safe... for now," I whispered. "Just hold on, okay? I won't let you die here."

Once the worst of the bleeding was under control, I rummaged through my bag for water. My hands trembled—not from fear, but from the strain of carrying him and tending to his wounds.

I found a small flask and carefully poured a little onto my handkerchief.

"Here... just sip, okay?" I murmured, holding it to his lips.

He tried, but his lips barely moved, weak from blood loss.

I pressed the cloth gently against them, trying to make sure some water seeped in.

Fumbling with my handkerchief to soak up the water, I used a sharp edge to cut it—but in my rush, I accidentally sliced my finger.

My blood mingled with the water, but I ignored the pain, focusing only on keeping him drink.

I hissed softly, but didn't stop. Not now.

Not when he needed me.

"Shh... it's okay," I whispered, ignoring the sting. "Drink... just a little at a time."

Slowly, painfully, he managed to swallow some, his body shivering from exhaustion.

I kept my other hand pressed to his chest, feeling the faint rise and fall with each breath, hoping it meant he wasn't giving up.

The cabin was silent except for his ragged breathing and my own careful movements.

"You're going to make it," I murmured again, more to myself than to him. "I won't let you die here. Not after everything... not now."

Night had fallen, the forest bathed in silver moonlight. I glanced at him again, his breathing was steadier now, his shallow groans softening into something more even.

Then my eyes wandered to his face, I couldn't help but pause.

The shadows and dirt couldn't hide it—he was... striking.

Sharp features softened slightly by fatigue, a jaw that could have been carved, eyes still fierce even in unconsciousness. My gaze lingered longer than I meant, though I quickly tore it away, scolding myself silently.

I shook my head, forcing my attention back to his injuries.

The worst of his injuries seemed to be under control. Relief washed over me, but it came with a tug of worry.

My grandmother... she would be searching for me soon. I need to go home.

She must be worried, and I couldn't let her find me here. Not like this.

I crouched beside him one last time, brushing a strand of dark hair from his forehead. "Rest now. You'll be okay. I promise."

With a reluctant sigh, I stood and slipped through the underbrush, careful not to snap branches. When I reached our small house, panic hit—my grandmother was gone, probably searching for me.

I darted to my room and closed the door softly, leaning against it with a shaky breath.

But then I froze. My hand brushed my neck... the pendant my parents had given me was gone.

I searched my bag and pockets—nothing.

Could I have dropped it in the cabin?

Chill ran down my spine. That pendant wasn't just a keepsake—it was part of me.

I whispered to myself, heart thudding, "I have to go back..."

But before I could move, a soft voice stopped me.

"Liora?" I froze.

My grandmother stood in the doorway, worry etched into every line of her face. "It's so late... I've been looking for you everywhere. Where have you been?"

My chest tightened. I wanted to tell her the truth, but I couldn't. "I... I'm sorry, Grandma," I said quickly, forcing a small smile. "We finished school project at my classmate's house, that's why I got home late."

Her eyes softened, but her tone was firm. "I understand, dear, but don't do that again. Coming home this late is dangerous—you don't know what could happen outside."

I nodded silently, my mind torn.

My fingers brushed the empty space where my pendant should have been, and a cold knot of dread formed in my stomach.

The pendant was still out there—in that cabin, with him.

"Tomorrow," I promised myself, "I will go back."