The Alpha and The Enforcer [TATE]

Chapter 27

Ellie's P.O.V.

I've been in the hospital for ten days. And still, I haven't recovered—not from the rogue attack, and definitely not from the wolf.

My physical wounds are healed but it's the internal ones that make me wince in pain. Usually, after the amount of time that I have to rest, I would be healed by now. But Lizzy was busy fighting her again. 

 The white wolf.

In whatever realm my mind drifts into when I'm unconscious, that's where she waits. That's where the battle rages. I don't know how I get there, or why it happens. All I know is that every time I'm injured badly enough to lose consciousness, I end up there. And I come back even more broken.

The fight was vicious. Blow for blow. Fang for fang. She doesn't talk. She just attacks. And I fight back like my life depends on it—because it does.

And now my real body carries the aftermath of a war no one else can see.

My limbs ache. Every breath feels like pulling glass through my ribs. But I left the hospital anyway. The sterile walls, the beeping machines, the questions... I couldn't take it anymore. I needed air. I needed quiet.

Somewhere between slipping out the side door and walking through the trees, I found a bottle of painkillers in my jacket pocket. I didn't put it there. Jake must've done it.

I bet they noticed I was gone within the hour. Maybe someone told Jacob already. I wouldn't be surprised if they're out looking for me. But I wasn't ready to be poked, scanned, questioned—not when I don't even have the answers myself.

So I went back.

Back to the clearing. Where the rogues bled. Where I almost died. Where the earth still bears the scars of fire and rage. A part of me hoped it wasn't real—that I'd imagined it all. But the blackened trees and scorched earth tell the truth. It happened. I did that.

Instead of heading to the waterfall like I usually do when I need peace, I went home.

And now I'm here, out on the balcony, leaning on the railing like it's the only thing holding me up. The vodka burns more than it soothes, but I drink it anyway. I don't drink often—only when my thoughts get too loud. When my body feels like a battlefield. When my wolf feels like a stranger.

The wind brushes against my skin, cool and gentle. I close my eyes.

Then—

"Ellie."

I don't turn around. I know that voice.

Jacob stands just inside my room, framed in the doorway. His presence is quiet, steady, and somehow louder than everything else.

"You were drinking?" he asks softly. His eyes flick to the glass in my hand. His tone isn't accusing—just careful. Controlled.

"I'm not drunk," I murmur. My voice is rough. Like something tearing loose from inside my chest.

"You shouldn't even be standing." He steps closer. "You're not fully healed."

I exhale, slow and shaky. "I've been worse."

"That's the problem." His voice tightens. "You say that every time. Like it's a badge of honor."

I finally glance at him. His eyes are darker than usual, worry swimming just beneath the surface. He's still in the clothes he probably wore to the hospital. His jaw is tense.

He waits.

Then he speaks again, quieter this time. "You leaving the hospital? No one was surprised by that. You've done it before. But this time..."