The Lost Warrior

"Run it off"

"I prefer dangerous freedom over peaceful slavery"

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GRACE'S POV

If there is anything next in line after painting as a hobby, it would definitely have to be running. I'm a healer and I have to let off the steam somehow especially now since I've started healing Draxon. Just to take the toll off, I slip on some shorts and a crop top. Skipping downstairs I grab my running shoes and zip up my jacket. Just as I was throwing my hood on, I hear pattering behind me.

A smile forms on my face upon seeing Scar; eager to get out of the house as he nudged me towards the door. I give a soft chuckle as we both walk out into the forest, morning dew coating my Nike's already.

"Don't go out of sight, Scar. Just run straight ahead, I'll catch up" I Swat him away for he tried to give me a piggyback just like last time. He takes my warning and runs ahead while I sprint after him.

Beads of sweat began to form all over my body and for a second I stopped and yanked my jacket off, tying the sleeves around my waist. I check my watch and appreciate the distance I exceeded in forty minutes. I continue to jog lightly for another ten minutes or so until I hear the familiar bubbling sound of the river ahead.

I inch closer to the water and do a full 360 calling out for Scar only to be greeted by a mighty splash. My chuckle echoes through the forest as I attack the gigantic hybrid with a splash of the cool water. I brush the few strands escaping from my signature messy bun and pat my thigh waiting patiently for Scar as I lean against a large flat rock. He ruffles his whole body, the water splaying in all directions before he comfortably places his head atop my thigh.

While raking my hands through his soft fur a shrill cry has us on our feet in alarm. My heart pounds faster than it already was; compared to when I was running and Scar leaps into the large bushes meeting the commotion head-on.

I feel useless as I stand still, knowing it was stupid to have come here in the first place. Some rogues are still lurking and my scent is in danger of being exposed. Let's just say it has a certain effect on my pack, yet I don't know which pack I was meant for and if only going around the continent searching for my pack was an option I would've. But circumstances has me keeping to myself, if I were to go around and mistakenly find myself in the wrong pack...I would most likely be held captive and only end up serving the pack for its needs. They would use me to no end...just as they did to mother.

A healer is meant to be taken care for, a healer is essential especially in times of war or even for everyday help. Healers were initially meant for the strongest of packs for they empowered the warriors/soldiers and made them stronger for battle; helped them clear their mind and put them at ease. A healer was a rock for their pack and only the best of packs were granted a healer.

Although there are very little to no wars at all since time and age have developed; I still feel as though I'm depriving my pack out there, a part of me feels empty.

Most importantly a healer also has a mate but there's a catch...

Out of my trance my legs carry me in the same direction that Scar went for the cries and growls were engulfed by silence. I cross through the tangled bushes and stand still for a moment. My hand flies to cover my mouth as I see two rogue werewolves who lay wounded and very much dead, their stench gave away the fact they were rogues and now mixed with the black goo oozing from their wounds gave off an unpleasant stench.

I brush my hand over a panting Scar only for him to growl as he slowly stands to his full height. I know to remain silent was best as he nudges his head between my legs from behind me and I sit on top of him.

"Aren't I too heavy-" Before I could slip off this beast I hold on tighter for he ignores my protests all the way to my house.

"Follow me, Mr. Giant" I enter the house and grab ice, gauze and other supplies just as I hear a series of bones cracking into places replaced by a deep groan.

I turn around and help lift Draxon off the floor leading him towards the sofa. Even though my cheeks began to heat, I swiftly place a throw on him to cover his exposed lower half.

"Why covering it up Rose, its nothing you haven't already seen." He manages to get that out with his signature boyish grin. I ignore his comment and wipe over his open wound hoping to get a reaction from him but to no avail.

"Why did you run towards the rogues..."

"Isn't it obvious? To protect the damsel in distress" I stop cleaning his wound and focus my attention to his face catching us both off guard as I stand abruptly.

Is that what he thought of me? A damsel in distress! The only reason I let him tag with me is because I know this side of the forest pretty well and he could get lost in a matter of minutes. My house is even masked with a protection spell and its practically invisible to the naked eye. So he either has to have some damn great tracking skills or know my scent better than his. The latter being impossible for he would have to be my mate, fat chance!

To be fair, I never exceeded a 35 minute run, there could be all sorts of danger and I wasn't armed nor built for any of that but just for him; I lead us to the river. It was indeed very tempting. No kidding when I say I'm head over heels for nature.

Yet despite it all, I prefer dangerous freedom over peaceful slavery.

"I didn't ask to be protected, we could've just ran."

"...and take the risk of having them follow us? not a chance"

"You're still healing, Draxon." I give him a pout; one laced with concern as he gives in.

"Fine. No more playing hero." I give smile of appreciation as I clear the wound and begin healing it using my powers.

"I'd rather play villain..."

Hey there! Just a side note when she refers to Scar it's Draxon's wolf so him in his wolf form if anyone was confused... 🫶🏼💅✍️🙌✨