The Alpha's Forced Cure

Chapter 2: Scars of the Past

Aris's POV

The infirmary was eerily silent now, scrubbed clean of the day's chaos. The only sound was the periodic, sudden flickering of the lantern and the soft rustling of my movement as I restocked the shelves. The boy, Leo, was sleeping soundly, his heart thumping and thudding silently, a successful outcome. I should have felt a sense of satisfaction, a quiet pride of a job well done. Instead, I felt a familiar hollowness inside my soul, an echo in a chamber I sealed off long ago.

I stepped outside, hoping to get a breath of fresh air, the smell of pine and damp earth filling my lungs, as the moonlight shined upon me. And that is when I saw them, two silhouettes, standing by the edge of the woods, surrounded by the glow of the new moon.

It was Lyra, one of the pack's hunters, and a young Alpha from the neighboring territory, Ronan. They weren't touching, but they didn't need to, as a faint, shimmering aura surrounded them - a visible manifestation of a newly formed mate bond. It was a private, sacred thing, yet it blazed in the darkness. They were deeply staring at each other, with an emotion that seemed like pure awe and devotion.

My hands tightened, and my fists clenched to my sides. No, this was not jealousy or envy I felt, it was different. Envy is a useless, messy emotion. This was something colder, sharper. It was just a mere observation of a phenomenon I know is a lie, a beautiful, dangerous delusion.

The sight of them, so heavy in their fantasy, unraveled what was hidden in my mind, a key turning in a lock I had fought so hard to bury deep inside. The world around me dissolved as I felt the cool night air becoming warm and the scent of pine being replaced by summer wine and roasted meat.

I was nineteen again.

The night of the Great Mating Festival. The air was electric, a current of hope and anxiety flowing around the assembled groups of unmated werewolves. Everyone who was someone was there. Alphas stood taller, their chests puffed out, meanwhile the Omegas, like me, tried to make themselves seem small - enough to be noticed, yet not to seem too eager. It was a ridiculous ritual, but I was not the woman I would become. I was a young girl, a healer in training, with calloused fingers and a heart full of hope.

I had told myself I was only there to observe, and to be of use if any medical emergency happened. It was a lie I had almost believed, because, in truth, I was there for the same reason as everybody else. For the chance, as slight as it might be, that the Moon Goddess might finally look my way.

And then it happened.

It started not as a thought, but as a physical sensation. A low hum that started at the base of my spine, tingling throughout my whole body and rising upwards. My mind was foggy, and the only thing I could visually form was a tunnel, leading up to the edge the fire, where he was standing.

Alpha Valerius.

He was the heir to the strongest pack in the region, the embodiment of genetic perfection. His hair was the color of the sun, bright gold, his shoulders broad, his laughter confident - a sound that drew everyone towards him. Every Omega dreamed of him, and I was no different.

He turned, his gaze carefully scanning the crowd, and his eyes locked with mine. For a moment, all my thoughts vanished, and I was only left with his burning presence. This was real, the bond - it was happening. A terrifying but magnificent fire spread throughout my chest, a feeling so powerful that it brought tears to my eyes, the Goddess had not forgotten me.

I saw the shock on his face, not prepared to the recognition that had just happened, the same dazed wonder that I had felt. He took a determined step towards me and the world held its breath. The whole crowd had parted for him, everyone faces lighting up in either awe, or envy. My heart hammered against my ribs - frantic, wild. This was it, the moment that would define the rest of my life.

He stopped in front of me, tall and beautiful, while the light danced around his defined face, highlighting his cheekbones. I looked up at him, my entire existence immersed in a hope so pure - it was painful.

Then his expression shifted, the wonder vanishing. His lips, which I imagined would smile, curled into a sneer of disgust.

"You?"

The word felt like a physical blow, a shard of ice in the heated moment. It was quiet, but in the sudden, profound silence, it seemed like a scream.

He took a step back, his eyes abruptly lingering over me, from my simple work tunic, to my stained hands. He wasn't seeing a mate, he was seeing something way worse, almost indescribable.

"The scrawny Omega healer's apprentice?!" he said, almost laughing, his words laced with disbelief. His voice was louder now, more cruel, for the benefit of the watching crowd. "The Moon Goddess must be blind!"

That is when the laughter started. It started off quiet, with just a few people snickering, but it progressed until a wave of mockery surrounded us. The sound washed over me, stripping away the magic of the moment, leaving me exposed. The beautiful, sacred fire in my chest turned to ash.

He raised his hand, his face masked with coldness. "I, Alpha Valerius of the Sunstone Pack," he declared, his voice ringing with power, “hereby reject this bond. I sever this tie. I refuse this fate.”

He spoke the ancient words of the ritual, and with each one, I could feel a knife stabbing deeper and deeper into my chest. The connection between us did not fade - it shattered, the pieces falling around me like glass. The pain was truly breathtaking, an agony that left me gasping for air.

But the pain, it was nothing compared to the shame.

I looked around, searching for a friendly face, someone to run to. I only saw the faces of my pack members, all turning away. Some with pity, some with embarrassment, as if my unworthiness was contagious. I was flawed. I was rejected. I was nothing. In that moment, I was utterly and completely alone.

The memory slowly dissolved, the fire turning into the quiet rustle of the forest, I was back in the present. My hands were still clenched, already turning white. My heard was thumping, not with hope, but with the echo of forgotten agony.

On the other side of the clearing, Lyra and Ronan were now walking away, hand in hand. They were stepping into their future, just as I had stepped back from my past.

It wasn't a memory I often visited, but it was always there, a perfectly preserved recollection of a departed dream. It was the foundation upon which I had built the rest of my life. A foundation of cold, hard logic, and the knowledge that the only thing you could rely on, was the skill in your own two hands.

I took one last deep breath, letting it wash away the lingering taste of ash. The pitying looks I had received earlier from Elara and Maeve had just now made sense to me. They saw a failure, and I saw a survivor.

I turned around and walked back into my infirmary, the door clicking shut behind me. Back to my sanctuary. Back to the only truth that had never lied to me.