An Alpha's Revenge

Hope

LEAH

She remembered how it felt to heal Jack. The fragment pieces and ball of dark glowing energy that worked its way into her brain until it burned and renewed but as she closed her eyes and focused her strength on Logan, she knew that he would be different.

Like a weed, she could feel the damage laced throughout his mind. It had grown, infecting area after area as it progressed. She followed every tendril, lanced every growth. As she worked, pain splintered through her head but she continued, unwilling to stop. Logan had passed out shortly after he'd started screaming, and although Leah still occasionally screamed out when it got to the worst parts, she was managing to work through a lot of it.

Elenor had done a better job than she'd expected, perhaps she owed the she-wolf more credit. She followed another tendril into the darker parts of Logan's mind and that's when the true depth of his pain hit her full force.

Her blood curdling scream tore through the air and before she knew it someone cradled her as her power flooded from her system and she slumped into the person's arms. As darkness came, her only comfort was one small yet imperative detail – she could be wrong but she had a feeling that she'd just cured Logan.

*

LOGAN

Logan yawned and scratched his face, turning on his side he blindly sought the comfort of his mate's body. Yet his bed was cold. Had that woman seriously left him to wake alone?

Slowly, he opened his eyes, wincing at the pain lancing across his forehead. Had he had too much to drink last night? He looked around the unfamiliar room. Noting the medicinal smell in the air.

Was he in the hospital?

Panic clawed at his chest – Jos, was she OK?

Pushing himself to his feet, he swayed and caught hold of the bed for support.

"Jos!" He called out, tripping towards the door, realising a second too late that he'd been attached to machines that were now dragging along the floor as he moved.

Deciding to ignore that, he kept going and it wasn't until he'd made it out into the hallway that Logan realised two very important things. First of all, he was in Rootbridge territory, and second of all, his gown was backless.

Turning towards a line of elderly she-wolves sat in the waiting room, he blushed as he pulled at the flimsy fabric, trying his hardest to cover what he could. "I-I'm so sorry ladies!" He cringed at their shocked faces, though the one on the end laughed and elbowed her friend who'd fallen asleep beside her.

Flustered, Logan practically ran back into his room and collapsed against the bed, breathing hard. He wished he could remember what had happened. The last thing he remembered was- Well, OK, so he couldn't really remember much right now. He just knew that he had to find his mate.

His pregnant mate.

"Oh God," he whispered as fragments of the last few years came back to him. Of the cages, of the pain, of the injections. Of J, of his pack. "Jos." He whispered again as he remembered the worst thing he'd ever done. The feel of his hands around her neck, th-

Logan retched and made a mad dash for small washroom adjacent to his room.

He was just washing his hands and heading back to the bed when he saw her. She looked slightly different than what he remembered, perhaps it was the skylight over her head or the knowledge that she carried his child, but she glowed.

Logan feel to his knees in front of his mate and he wept.

For all that he'd done.

For the time they'd lost.

For all the time he knew they would now have.