Chapter 3
Orion laughed. "The Moon Goddess wouldn't even want to look at me. Why the hell do you think she'd appear to me? And besides, who knows if there was some black magic at play? Which I suspect there is. No one should be able to glide the way that woman did or smile like some demon. I'm sure that person isn't the Moon Goddess," Orion insisted.
"But…"
"Besides, why would she appear now, when she abandoned me and my people a long time ago? She doesn't appear to those who don't believe in her, Noctis. Trust me, I'll know if I ever meet the Moon Goddess," Orion said, his voice laced with bitterness.
Noctis released a sigh. There was no convincing Orion.
Before Orion could reach the gate, he spotted Ronan, the blonde-haired beta and his second in command, pacing at the foot of the tree where Orion usually sat. Ronan's frown deepened as he saw Orion approach, his eyes widening in shock at the sight of the unconscious woman in his arms.
"What in the world are you doing?" Ronan exclaimed, hurrying over. His expression was a mixture of concern and confusion. "Who is she?"
"I don't know," Orion admitted. "But she needs help."
Ronan looked at the woman, then back at Orion in disbelief. "You're bringing an injured stranger into the pack?"
Orion nodded.
"Are you out of your mind?" Ronan demanded.
"She was bleeding in the shrine. If I hadn't taken her, she would have died!" Orion retorted.
"We could debate this later, but right now, she needs help," Orion said.
Ronan sighed. He trusted Orion, but sometimes his impulsiveness made Ronan question his judgment.
"Fine, but this better not backfire on us. When it does, don't say I didn't warn you," Ronan said.
Orion gave him a small nod, walking briskly towards the gate. The guards noticed Orion's arrival and opened it quickly. A collective frown spread across their faces upon seeing the unconscious woman in his arms. Whispers began to circulate among them, and Orion knew it wouldn't be long until the news spread throughout the pack.
He rushed into the pack's medical facility, where healers treated various ailments. The scent of herbs filled the air, mingling with the faint smell of smoke from the fireplace. If anyone could save this woman, it would be Lysander, Brynhild's mate. Although a grumpy person, Lysander had a remarkable talent for healing, often referred to as death-gifted for his ability to bring the dying back from the brink.
As Orion burst into the medical facility, all eyes turned to him. The healers had been busy, even with the impending blizzard outside.
"Is there a vacant bed?" Orion asked a trainee healer named Rita, who gave him a quick nod and pointed to an empty bed in the corner.
"Get Lysander," Orion instructed with urgency.
But before Rita could move, Lysander stepped into the room, his expression shifting to concern as he saw Orion. "What's going on?" he asked, his gaze fixed on the woman in Orion's arms.
"I need your help," Orion said.
Lysander quickly examined the woman, checking her pulse and assessing her injuries. "Who is she?" he asked, his brow furrowing.
"We're yet to find out," Ronan replied.
Orion had forgotten for a minute that Ronan was still with him, perhaps because he was quiet, unlike Ronan.
Lysander turned to Orion in shock. "You brought an unknown person into the pack? And you want me to treat her? What if she's one of Victoria's spies?"
"I thought your oath was to save lives, regardless of who they are! She could die if we don't act now," Orion retorted.
"I'm not saying I won't help her," Lysander replied, "I'm just concerned about the risks involved."
As they spoke, Orion noticed that Lysander was already springing into action, calling over two other healers who were present. They moved with efficiency, preparing the bed while Lysander continued to check the woman's vital signs.
"Let's figure out if she's a threat later," Orion said. "For now, we need to save her."
"Very well," Lysander conceded, his expression serious as he began instructing the other healers to assist him.
Orion and Ronan stepped outside the facility where they ran into Brynhild, her arms crossed and a stern look on her face. The leader of the guards was not smiling. Orion swallowed.
"I see you've gotten the news too," he said.
"Yes," Brynhild replied, her voice steady. "What were you thinking, bringing a stranger into our pack?"
"And you," she said to Ronan. "You were with him and didn't try to stop him?"
"Don't blame me. I tried to make him see reason, but he wouldn't listen," Ronan replied.
"Look…" Orion began, but Brynhild interrupted him.
"I can't see," she reminded him dryly.
Orion chuckled. "I know that. And I don't mean look in the literal sense. If you had let me finish, you wouldn't need to say that."
Orion released a sigh. "We don't know if she's a spy sent by the Enclave. We don't know anything, which is why I'm putting you in charge here, Brynhild. Just until she wakes up and we can ascertain if she's a threat to the pack or not."
"Okay, but that doesn't explain why you brought her into the pack," Brynhild pressed.
Orion thought of telling them about the voice he heard but decided against it until he had enough information.
"Maybe because I couldn't let her die in my presence," he said to her.
Brynhild sighed. "Fine. But you do know the Council will demand explanations."
"Explanations which I will provide tomorrow," Orion said.
"They are already gathe…"
"And there's a storm coming. I'm not going to be trapped in that building with those nagging old people," Orion interrupted.
"Hey, I'm not old," Ronan protested.
"You're also not young," Brynhild replied with a chuckle.
Orion stretched his shoulders. "I need some rest. Send word if she wakes up, yeah?"
"Sure." Brynhild said to him with a mock salute.