The Alpha's Shadow

Chapter 8: Undercover Shadows

Consciousness returned slowly, dragging Luna from the void in fitful stages. She became aware of low voices first, muted words sifting meaninglessly through her sluggish thoughts. Gentle pressure confined her limbs, accompanied by a dull throbbing ache. Luna's brow knit reflexively. Had she been injured on a case? Memory hovered just out of reach, her last clear thoughts a foggy blur. She made an effort to shake off the clinging haze and orient her senses. The softness cradling her body felt like a bed piled with blankets. And the warm glow against her closed eyelids suggested morning's light brightening a nearby window. But the unfamiliar voices didn't align with waking in her own apartment. Where was she then? And why did her limbs feel so leaden and thoughts resist focus?

With effort, Luna cracked open heavy eyelids, squinting against the light. An unfamiliar ceiling swam into view above her. Turning her head, she could make out rough-hewn wooden walls and sparse rustic furnishings. Not a hospital then. She tried to rise and get her bearings, but even that small motion sparked fiery pain that stole her breath. Collapsing back, Luna groaned through her teeth. The sound must have alerted the speakers because a curtain partition along the wall pulled back abruptly. She tensed, ready to face this new unknown threat.

A tall, slender woman with intricately braided hair peered down at Luna worriedly. "You've awoken. Lie still, you've grievous injuries yet to mend." The stranger's weathered features were kind as she pressed Luna gently but firmly back against the pillows.

Luna complied unwillingly, thoughts churning. Injuries explained the pain, but not where she was or how she'd gotten hurt. She cleared her dry throat to rasp, "What...what is this place? Where am I?" Even those few strained words exhausted her feeble reserves. Luna pressed a trembling hand to her chest beneath the blankets, trying and failing to quell rising panic.

The woman grasped her shoulder soothingly. "Peace, you're safe here. I am Linnea, a healer." She busied preparing something at the bedside table, tone still gentle. "You've had a serious brush with death, but the worst has passed. Just rest easy."

Luna gritted her teeth against another painful throb. She needed answers, not empty platitudes. "Please, I have to know what happened," she managed hoarsely. Why couldn't she remember?

Linnea pursed her lips, but bobbed a concession. "I'll fetch your guardian. He can explain the full tale." With that cryptic assurance, the healer slipped from the curtained space. Luna sagged back, spent. Guardian? She must be mistaken; Luna had no such protector she knew of. Her weary mind spun fruitlessly until approaching footsteps outside drew Luna's wandering attention. She tensed reflexively as the curtain rasped aside again. But her breath left in a rush of dizzying relief at the achingly familiar face that peered down at her now, etched with concern.

"Fenris..." His name spilled from her tongue unthinkingly, like a prayer. Luna grasped for his hand desperately. She still understood little, but Fenris's stern presence grounded her tumbling senses. As long as he stood guard, she was safe.Holding her gaze intently, Fenris raised her hand to his lips in a feather-soft kiss. "Be still. The worst is over."

His solemn tone held echoes of remembered fear not yet dissolved. Luna clung his hand tighter, drawing strength from that lifeline. "What happened?" she managed faintly. "I was...lost in the dark." Desperate for answers, her wide eyes implored him.

Fenris smoothed stray hair back from her brow with a touch impossibly gentle for one so formidable. "You were gravely hurt stopping the chaos and bloodshed," he explained carefully. "I traced your fading spirit and brought you to my private sanctuary to heal beyond reach of further harm." His expression turned bleak, eyes clouded with remorse. "I should have sheltered you sooner from the violence brewing. Now fate's scales must rebalance."