After several days of studying the werewolf, herself and the kids, after careful observation, Elara deemed the children safe to return home. Relief washed over their faces as they practically bolted out the door, leaving Elara alone with her father and the ailing werewolf.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room, the werewolf stirred. His eyes, hollow and clouded with pain and confusion, fluttered open, darting around the unfamiliar cottage as if silently asking, "Where am I?" He emitted a low, quiet groan, his body stiff and aching.
"We found you in the woods," Elara said, her voice steady and reassuring. "You were injured and feverish, so I brought you here to tend to your illness."
"You shouldn't have," he rasped, struggling to sit up. Elara's father, Bram, gently assisted him, his weathered hands firm and supportive.
"Why?" Elara asked, her brow furrowing with concern.
"It's… transmittable," the werewolf explained, his voice strained and weak. "Many have died from it."
"Well, you almost died," Elara countered gently, offering a warm smile that reached her eyes. "But you're safe and sound now."
The werewolf looked down at himself, his gaze sweeping over his own limbs with a mixture of shock and disbelief. He felt stronger, healthier than he had in weeks. "You… you cured it?" he asked, a hopeful note creeping into his voice.
"Of course, she did," her father replied, beaming with pride at Elara's accomplishment. His eyes sparkled with paternal affection as he clapped her on the back, a gesture that was both loving and a little too forceful.
"But...how?" The werewolf sat up straighter, his deep-set, intense eyes, usually sharp and commanding, were still clouded with a lingering weariness, but a flicker of hope had begun to ignite within them. His well-defined jawline, typically set with the resolve of a Beta, seemed a shade softer, betraying the recent ordeal, but a newfound strength was gradually returning to his features. "We thought it was a death sentence, a curse etched in our blood! My pack...we've watched generations wither and die, consumed by this plague. Every other pack turned their backs, slammed their gates shut, terrified of even a breath of our tainted air. And you…your daughter…" He stared at Elara, his eyes wide with awe and gratitude, as if she were an angel descended from the heavens. "You treated it like a scraped knee."
Bram, Elara's father, puffed out his chest, pride booming in his voice. "It's nothing, really! There's no affliction my daughter can't conquer! She's gifted!" He clapped her on the shoulder, too hard.
Elara winced, from the sting and the weight of her father's expectations. He meant well, but his pride felt like a cage.
"Which pack are you from, son?" Bram asked, eyes sharp.
The werewolf blinked, remembering his manners. "I'm Harvey, Beta of the Stone Haven pack."
The name hit Elara and Bram like a blow.
"Stone Haven...?" Bram's voice rumbled low in disbelief, same with Elara who stared at him with wild eyes.
"Yes..." Harvey frowned, sensing their unease. Stone Haven, known for sneering at the peaceful Siberian wolves.
"You know us," Harvey said, a hint of pride, "And you?"
Elara stepped forward, spine straight. "I'm Bram, and this is Elara. We're from the Siberian pack."
Understanding dawned in Harvey's eyes, then a hesitant smile touched his lips. "I can't hold a grudge. You saved me."
Stone Haven Pack saw the Siberian wolves as weak. They didn't fight for power like other packs, preferring peace. This made them easy targets, especially for Stone Haven, who bullied them the most.
"When can I go back?"
"Go back? You could get sick again!" Bram exploded, protective fury rising.
"I must. I'm their beta. I need to tell them about the cure," Harvey said, desperate hope shining in his eyes.
Worried Elara turned to her shelves. She quickly gathered a few small bottles: a booster, a balm, and the cure itself. As she packed, Elara's brow furrowed, a shadow of concern crossing her face. "This wasn't just any disease, Harvey. The way it spread, the symptoms...it was almost like something is the cause of it." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "I don't know the cause, but I suspect it's more than just a natural illness. Especially since it's only affecting Stone Haven."
She put them in a bag with instructions. As she packed, "Here, make sure you follow the prescription of the medicine I'm giving you so you would be fully healed," Elara handed the bag to him.
He showed his gratitude before leaving to meet The Alpha of the Siberian Pack.
Harvey bowed to Alpha Liam, but Liam sneered, icy disdain radiating from him. "So, the disease weakened Stone Haven?"
Harvey kept calm, fists clenching. His strong, straight nose flared slightly with suppressed anger, but his face remained composed, only the faintest tightening of his jawline betraying his effort. "Every pack has a weakness."
Liam smirked at Elara. "My niece helps us. Unlike Stone Haven, we care about helping others."
The talk turned to veiled insults, each word a poisoned dart. Harvey forced a smile, but they stung.
He left with a fragile hope: someone might have a cure for his pack, a beacon in the darkness.
"Alpha Lucian, please! The sickness is devouring our children!" Mara begged, collapsing to her knees, tears streaming down her face.
"We're losing hope," Jaxon said, his voice heavy with sorrow. "Our healers can't do much more. We need a miracle."
"How many more will die, Alpha?" Kael demanded, his voice a strangled roar of anger and fear. "We need something to fight with!"
Alpha Lucian, his face etched with deep lines of worry and fatigue, closed his eyes, shoulders slumping. The weight of his pack's suffering pressed down on him, a tangible burden that seemed to age him beyond his years. His silver-streaked hair was disheveled, and his usually sharp eyes were clouded with a deep weariness. "I know…I'm trying to find a cure. I won't give up on you!"
Harvey arrived, voice trembling with urgency. The guards stopped him, hands hovering near their weapons.
"I need to see Alpha Lucian! It's life or death! I have a cure!"
"We can't risk it! You could still be contagious!"
"Damn the protocol! I'm not contagious! I need to tell him who healed me! It's vital!"
After a tense moment, the guard relented. "Alright! But stay back!"
Harvey followed the guard. He stepped into Alpha Lucian's office, breath catching in his throat.
Lucian's face was gaunt, etched with worry lines, and his eyes were bloodshot, reflecting sleepless nights spent agonizing over his pack.
His dark hair, styled with a slight wave and neatly pushed back from his forehead, it couldn't quite hide the faint lines beginning to appear around his eyes. His eyes, a piercing shade of sea blue, were clouded with a deep weariness.
He rubbed his temples, as if fighting off a persistent headache, his movements slow and deliberate, each gesture betraying his exhaustion.
"So…it's true, then?" Alpha Lucian croaked, searching Harvey's face with desperate intensity. His tired eyes, usually filled with a stern authority, now held a desperate plea for hope, a flicker of light in the encroaching darkness. "You're…healed?"
Harvey held out his bare hand. Lucian's eyes widened, jaw slackening. A slow smile spread across his face, a rare and precious sight.
"By the gods…" he breathed, voice choked with emotion. He embraced Harvey, a desperate grasp at hope.
"But how did it happen?" Lucian asked, pulling back, his grip still firm on Harvey's shoulders. "Tell me everything! Tell me who saved you! Tell me there's a chance…a chance for all of us!"