Blurry.
Everything's blurry. I blink again, hoping it'll clear. But it doesn't—just shadows and light smudging together like a smeared painting.
One more blink.
The view shifts. Shapes become outlines. Human outlines.
Another blink.
And finally, it sharpens.
I see the white lights above me. The cold fluorescent glow feels like it's trying to stab its way into my skull. I groan, turning my head slightly.
"Ouch." The back of my head pulses with sharp pain.
I feel like I've been hit by a truck… or maybe a wild bear. My body aches like I've been thrown off a cliff and rolled over rocks. I can't move properly—my arms feel heavy, and my legs are sore.
A man leans over me. Blue eyes—icy, silvery blue. Too sharp, too beautiful to be real. For a brief second, I wonder… am I dead? Is this heaven?
Because this man looks like an angel. Or at least what an angel might look like if they wore a white coat and had stubble lining a sharp jaw. His gaze locks with mine, and my heart jolts in my chest.
"She's conscious. Sensory receptors are working," he says in a calm, professional tone.
A woman to my left scribbles something on a clipboard. Her uniform is a soft cream, almost white—probably a nurse. Her brown hair is tied tightly in a bun, and her expression is unreadable.
I look around, taking in the room. Monitors beep softly beside me. A long IV is taped to my wrist. The faint scent of disinfectant hits my nose, and I realize—
Hospital.
I didn't die.
"You okay?" another voice asks. A man in a coat, possibly another doctor, peers into my face.
"Where… where am I?" I ask, my voice hoarse and cracked. I try to sit up, but my back feels like it's been bent out of shape. The nurse helps me up, slipping a pillow behind me.
"Obviously a hospital," Mr. Blue Eyes mutters, his voice tinged with sarcasm. I shoot him a look. Rude.
"What's your name?" the nurse asks, her voice soft and professional.
"Xena. Xena Gareth," I reply.
She writes it down.
"Miss Gareth," Mr. Blue Eyes continues. "What's the last thing you remember?"
I blink again, trying to push through the haze. Images flicker through my mind—laughter, music, balloons. Elsa.
"A birthday party," I say finally. "My friend Elsa's birthday."
Elsa—one of the few humans who ever made me feel seen, important. Her parties were always loud, glittery, with terrible cake and great memories.
"When was that?" the doctor asks, tilting his head.
"Yesterday… I think." But it feels far away. Fuzzy. Not like yesterday at all. My body feels like I've been through weeks of battle. "Maybe not. I'm not sure."
I pause as another pulse of pain shoots through my head. I squeeze my eyes shut, biting my bottom lip to steady myself before reopening them. He's still looking at me, and my heart does that annoying skip again.
"Date?" he presses. His eyes drifting briefly to my lips.
"April 2nd," I answer, my brow furrowing.
"And the year?" he adds.
"2025." A little annoyed now.
There's a long pause. The second doctor exchanges a glance with Mr. Blue eyes.
"She's lost a month's worth of memory," he says grimly.
"What?" My voice shoots up. I dart my eyes to the digital calendar on the monitor. May 4th.
How the hell did I lose an entire month?
"With the injury to her head, I thought it'd be worse," the second doctor comments.
"Yes, it should've been. But her inner wolf is strong enough to handle it." Mr. Blue replies, matter-of-factly.
Wait. What?
They know I'm a wolf?
My breath catches. I sniff the air. How did I miss it?
Of course. They're wolves. But not from my pack—that much I can tell from their scent. It's sharper, colder. Shit.
"Where am I?" I ask again. "I mean—what hospital is this?"
"LuxMed," the nurse replies gently.
My breath hitches. My eyes go wide.
Shit.
LuxMed.
Alpha Zane's hospital. The north side of the city.
The Dark Moon Pack's territory.
"Fuck," I mutter, sitting bolt upright.
Pain shoots through my fractured arm, and I hiss, holding it.
"You okay?" the nurse asks.
Do I look okay to her?
"No," I snap. "I'm not supposed to be here."
Mr. Blue Eyes studies me quietly. "Where are you from?"
I freeze. My instincts scream to lie. Never reveal where you're from in enemy's territory.
I swallow and look away. "I… don't recall."
He raises a brow, unimpressed. "Liar"
I don't respond.
I slide down the pillow slowly, pretending to fall asleep.
Then—agony.
I accidentally shift my weight onto my fractured arm. I scream.
Mr. Blue Eyes reacts instantly, gripping my wrist gently but firmly, lifting my injured arm. "Careless," he mutters, voice suddenly harsh. "If you're this reckless, you're bound to get yourself killed."
I glare up at him, pain twisting my face. Our eyes lock.
His are colder now. But under the frost, there's fire. He stares back—unmoving, unreadable.
I feel it again.
That pull.
My wolf stirs.
I force myself to look away, heart thumping too loudly. "Don't touch me," I mumble, though the damage is done—he already touched me, and now I can't stop feeling the echo of it.
He clears his throat. "Rest. You need to recover. Nurse, give her the pain meds. I'll check back later."
And just like that, he turns and walks out of the room, the door clicking softly behind him.
Silence.
I let out a shaky breath.
I lie back against the pillow, still trembling from the sudden pain spike.
LuxMed.
The name repeats in my head.
How did I even end up here?
I am in enemy territory—did they not recognize me? Or was I too injured to be identified?
I shut my eyes, trying to recall anything from the past few days. The last thing I remember clearly is Elsa's party. Then everything goes dark. No matter how hard I try, my memories refuse to surface.
A growl. A chase. A claw. Blood.
The full moon.
I must've been hunted.
My pulse quickens.
I groan, my head pounding from the effort to remember. My temples throb. I can feel my pulse in my skull.
I exhale, long and shaky.
Fine. Let it go for now.
I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling.
Instead, my mind drifts back to the man.
Mr. Blue Eyes.
Who the hell is he?
I don't know his name. I don't know anything about him. But something about him felt... different. When he touched me, it wasn't just the pain that faded—it was like something inside me shifted. Like my wolf recognized something. Or someone.
I normally hate being touched. It sets me off. I flinch. I pull away. It's a reflex now. But with him, I didn't. I didn't feel fear. I felt… safe?
Even his voice, sharp as it was, didn't scare me. It made me want to argue. To talk back. To push and pull.
And the strangest thing?
I wanted to tell him things.
I wanted to say what I really felt.
Not pretend. Not lie.
Just be... me.
That's dangerous.
Especially here.
In enemy's territory.
I sigh and glance toward the window, watching the late afternoon sun streak through the blinds. Outside, the world keeps turning. I'm stuck in this strange hospital, my body broken, my memory fractured, and the only thing I can think about is that man.