The Alpha I Built Betrayed Me

"Why are you still here?" Elara asked.

She sat on a rotting log at the edge of the clearing. Her ruined leg stretched out stiffly in front of her, the crude bandages stained a faint yellow.

I tossed a small, corked vial into the crisp morning air and caught it.

"Your wolf magic is unstable," I told her, leaning my shoulder against a pine trunk. "If you lose control and blow a crater in this forest, it brings the border patrols right to us."

"So you are playing the wandering healer just to keep me controlled?"

"I am monitoring a volatile asset."

She narrowed her eyes, studying the silver dagger strapped to my thigh.

"You could just leave me behind. You do not owe me anything."

"I don't do 'needed'," I stated flatly, stepping away from the tree. "Needed people leave marks."

She tilted her head. An unexpected smirk broke through her exhaustion.

"Good. Because I do not need you."

I ignored the strange jolt in my chest. That was exactly what I wanted to hear. My family had spent my entire life bleeding me dry with their endless demands. Duty. Obligation. I left that cage to avoid anchors.

I just needed to make sure she didn't get herself killed before we parted ways.

"Stand up," I ordered.

Elara grabbed her makeshift oak crutch and forced herself upright. Her jaw tightened, but she didn't complain.

"Drop the stick."

"I will fall."

"Then fall."

She glared at me, her fingers digging into the rough bark. Then, she let it go. The heavy branch hit the dirt. She swayed, heavily favoring her left side.

"Close your eyes," I instructed, circling her. "Find the knot in your chest. The wolfsbane severed your connection to your wolf. You are trying to force the door open. Stop forcing it."

"How do I open a door without pushing?" she snapped.

"You pick the lock. Pull the energy from your healthy veins. Route it around the dead tissue in your calf."

She squeezed her eyes shut. Her fists clenched at her sides.

The air around us grew heavy. The scent of ozone and dried pine needles spiked sharply.

"You are pushing too hard," I warned.

"I have it," she gritted out.

A sudden, sharp crack echoed in the clearing.

Invisible force blasted outward, kicking up dead leaves and dirt. Elara gasped, her eyes flying open. She stumbled backward, landing hard on the forest floor.

A thick line of crimson spilled from her left nostril, dripping over her top lip.

I walked over and stood above her. I didn't offer my hand.

I pulled a folded linen cloth from my pocket and tossed it onto her lap.

"Again."

She wiped the blood from her mouth, smearing it across her cheek. She didn't cry. She didn't ask for a break.

She grabbed the tree trunk, hauled herself up, and locked her knees.

"Tell me what I did wrong."

"You panicked when the energy hit the scar tissue," I explained, keeping my voice entirely detached. "You have to trust the detour."

By midday, we moved deeper into the northern ridge.

"Stop," Elara commanded, throwing her arm out.

I halted a foot behind her.

She pointed to a faint depression in the mud beneath a patch of ferns.

"Tripwire," she explained, her voice low. "The poachers coat the barbs in paralytic venom. You step there, you won't wake up for three days."

"You know these routes well."

"I patrolled them for years." She shifted her weight, wincing slightly. "I show you the blind spots in the border security. You teach me how to fix my energy flow."

"A transaction," I agreed.

"Exactly. No debts."

"I prefer it that way."

We navigated the treacherous path side by side. She mapped the physical dangers. I corrected her breathing every time her aura flared out of control.

She didn't thank me. I didn't praise her.

It was a perfect, sterile arrangement.

Night fell fast, bringing a bitter frost that coated the tree branches in thin ice.

We took shelter in a shallow cave hidden behind a frozen waterfall. Elara sat near the small fire, wrapping a fresh bandage around her scarred leg.

I sat across from her, sharpening my blade with a whetstone.

The rhythmic scrape of metal filled the silence.

She tossed a piece of dried meat into the flames. It sizzled loudly.

"You missed a spot," she murmured, gesturing to my dagger.

I paused. I checked the blade. She was right. A tiny nick remained near the hilt.

"Keep your eyes on your own weapons," I replied, though the edge in my voice had dulled.

She let out a short, unexpected laugh. It wasn't bitter. It was just tired.

"Just trying to be helpful, healer."

"I don't need help."

"Good. Then we have something in common."

I stared at the fire, the whetstone perfectly still in my hand.

I knew her breathing pattern now. I knew she favored her left side when she sat. I knew she hated the smell of roasted rabbit but ate it anyway to keep her strength up.

I was getting used to her being here.

My grip tightened on the hilt.

Being needed meant being trapped. I had sworn I would never let anyone sink their hooks into my life again.

So why did I feel an overwhelming urge to stay right here in this freezing cave?

A twig snapped in the darkness outside.

Elara's head snapped up. Her eyes flashed a brilliant gold.

"Did you hear that?" she whispered.

I stood, sliding the dagger into its sheath.

"We aren't alone."