Chapter 10 Forest Secrets

Valencia’s POV

I woke to darkness.

The fire had burned down to embers, casting barely enough light to see by. My entire body ached—a deep, throbbing pain that seemed to pulse with every heartbeat. For a moment, I couldn't remember where I was.

Then it all came rushing back. The interrogation. The beating. Alpha Logan's cold fury as he killed my attackers.

I turned my head slowly, expecting to see him still sitting in the chair by the window. But the chair was empty.

A strange sound drifted through the partially open window—something between a growl and a whimper. Pain? Anger? I couldn't tell.

My body screamed in protest as I pushed myself up on my elbows. Every movement sent fresh waves of agony through my bruised ribs, but curiosity drove me forward. Where had Alpha Logan gone? And what was making that sound?

I managed to swing my legs over the side of the bed, biting my lip hard enough to taste blood to keep from crying out. The room spun for a moment before steadying. I took several deep breaths, then forced myself to stand.

The walk to the window felt like miles. I had to grip the furniture for support, moving inch by painful inch. When I finally reached it, I leaned heavily against the stone sill and looked down into the courtyard below.

Nothing. Just shadows and moonlight.

But that sound came again—louder now, clearer. It was coming from beyond the castle walls, from the forest that bordered Mistmarsh's territory.

I shouldn't follow. I should climb back into bed and pretend I'd heard nothing. Alpha Logan had told me to rest, and disobeying him seemed like a bad idea.

But something drew me forward. Maybe it was concern for the man who had saved me twice now. Maybe it was simple curiosity. Or maybe it was something deeper—some pull I didn't understand.

I made my way to the door, moving as quietly as my injuries allowed. The hallway beyond was empty and dark. Most of the castle slept at this hour. I used the walls for support as I navigated the corridors, following the distant sounds that seemed to call to me. By the time I reached the ground floor, I was sweating and shaking.

The main entrance stood open. The night air was crisp. I stepped out into the courtyard.

The sound was clearer now. It was definitely coming from the forest.

I should turn back. This was madness. I was injured, weak, barely able to stand. What could I possibly accomplish by stumbling into dark woods in the middle of the night?

But my feet kept moving forward.

The tree line loomed ahead like a wall of shadows. I hesitated at the edge, peering into the darkness. The sound came again—closer now. Definitely pain. Someone or something was hurt.

I stepped into the forest. I moved silently over the forest floor, following the path of destruction. Broken branches littered the ground. Deep claw marks scored the bark of nearby trees. Whatever was making that sound had been here, tearing through the woods with violent purpose.

Then I saw him.

Alpha Logan knelt in a small clearing, his body hunched forward, hands pressed against the earth. His shirt was torn, hanging in shreds from his shoulders. Even in the moonlight, I could see his muscles rippling beneath his skin.

"No..." His voice was raw, desperate. "I won't... I can't let you out... she's here..."

My breath caught. He was talking about me?

I pressed myself against a thick oak tree, watching as Logan's body convulsed. His fingers dug into the soil, leaving deep furrows. The tendons in his neck stood out like cords as he threw his head back.

"Knox," he gasped. "Knox, help me hold him back—"

But the shift that began wasn't the black wolf I'd seen before.

Logan's spine arched impossibly, bones cracking and reforming with sounds that made my stomach turn. But the fur that emerged wasn't midnight black—it was silver. Pure, gleaming silver.

The wolf was massive—even larger than black one. He let out a roar that shook the trees. Then it lunged at the nearest oak and tore into it with claws. Bark exploded in chunks. The massive trunk, easily three feet wide, splintered under those claws. I watched in horror as her destroyed everything around it.

I should run. Should get as far from this creature as possible. Then my foot came down on a branch.

His head whipped around so fast it was a blur. Those golden eyes locked onto me, and for one heart-stopping moment, I was certain I was about to die.

The wolf's lips pulled back, revealing fangs longer than my fingers. A growl rumbled from its chest. It took one step toward me. Then another.

I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Could only stare into those golden eyes.

But then something changed.

His growl shifted. The rage in those golden eyes flickered, replaced by something that looked almost like... confusion? The wolf stopped advancing. Its massive head tilted to one side, studying me. Then, impossibly, the growl became a whimper.

He took another step forward, but this time the movement was hesitant. The wolf lowered its huge head, and that whimper came again.

I stared in shock, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing. Was I imagining it? Could something so monstrous actually be pleading with me? The uncertainty made my heart race even faster.

Without thinking, without understanding why, I lifted my trembling hand.

The silver wolf closed the distance between us in one fluid motion. That enormous silver head pressed into my palm, and I felt the wolf's entire body shudder.

"I don't understand," I whispered, my voice shaking. "What do you want?" My fingers tangled in that thick silver fur, and I felt the rapid hammering of Axel's heartbeat beneath my touch.

Then the wolf's body went rigid. The massive body began to convulse.

"No, no, no," I heard myself saying, though I had no idea what I was trying to do.

The shift reversed. Bones cracked and reformed. The silver fur receded, revealing skin that was covered in a sheen of sweat.

When it was over, Logan knelt where the wolf had been. His shoulders heaved with each labored breath, and I could see his entire frame shaking.

He didn't try to stand. Just knelt there, head bowed, fingers digging into the soil.

Then he lifted his head. "What the hell are you doing here?" His voice came out as a ragged snarl. "I told you to stay in the room!"

"I heard sounds. I thought—"

"Don't!" The word exploded from him that I froze. "Don't come closer!"

But even as he said it, his body swayed. His arms trembled, barely holding his weight.

"You need help," I said quietly.

"I don't need anything from you!" Logan tried to push himself up, but his legs gave out immediately. He caught himself before he face-planted, his breathing harsh and uneven. "Just... just go back inside."

He tried again to stand. This time he made it halfway before his knees buckled.

I moved without thinking. I lunged forward and caught him before he fell. His weight nearly took us both down. He was so much larger than me, all hard muscle, but I managed to wedge my shoulder under his arm.

"I said I don't need—" Logan's protest died as he sagged against me, too weak to pull away.

"Yes, you do," I said firmly. "Now lean on me. We're going back to the room."

For a moment, I thought he might fight me. But then his arm came around my shoulders, and he let me take some of his weight.

The walk back to the castle was agonizing. Every step sent fresh pain through my battered body, and Logan was barely conscious, stumbling beside me. Somehow we made it through the forest, across the courtyard, up the stairs.

By the time we reached the guest room, both of us were gasping. I guided him to the bed, and he collapsed onto it without resistance.

I stood there for a moment, catching my breath and trying to process what I'd just witnessed. Then I moved to the washbasin, dampened a clean cloth, and returned to his side.

Logan lay on his back, one arm thrown across his eyes. His chest still rose and fell rapidly. Sweat and dirt covered his skin.

Without speaking, I began cleaning him. Starting with his face, wiping away the grime and sweat. He didn't move. Just lay there like he'd run out of the strength to care.

The nervous flutter I'd felt earlier when tending to his naked body had vanished completely. Now, as I carefully cleaned the dirt from his chest, all I could think about was the anguish I'd witnessed in the forest.

My hand moved in slow, gentle circles across his skin. His breathing had finally steadied. "Why do you bear this alone?" I asked softly, unable to stop myself.

The question hung in the air between us. For a long moment, I thought he wouldn't answer.

"Because it's my curse," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't... shouldn't drag others into it."

I wrung out the cloth and continued cleaning his shoulders. "You seemed to be in such agony," I ventured carefully. "Is it because of your wolf?"

Silence. His chest rose and fell with measured breaths, but he gave no other response. Then, he closed his eyes. I understood the message. I focused on my task, working my way down his arms.

"I have two wolves inside me."

His sudden words made me freeze, the cloth still pressed against his forearm.

"Knox and Axel," he continued, his voice flat and emotionless. "The black wolf you saw at the funeral—that was Knox. The silver one tonight... that was Axel."

I stared at him, my mind struggling to comprehend. "Two wolves? I've never heard of anyone having—"

"No one does," he cut me off. "Because it's not supposed to happen."

Slowly, he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at me directly. Those gray eyes held mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. His face remained expressionless.

"Axel is Lycan bloodline," he said. "Extremely dangerous. I cannot fully control him."

My hand had stilled on his arm. I couldn't look away from his face.

"Every full moon, Axel wants to come out." His voice was so cold. "He fights me for control. Tries to break free."

"So every full moon, you..."

"I must fight alone," he confirmed. "Suppress him. Force him back until he gives up."

"You torture yourself?" The words burst out before I could stop them. "Every single month, you put yourself through that agony?"

A single nod. "It's the only way."

Horror washed over me. I thought of the destruction I'd seen in the fores. And that was just the aftermath of his struggle.

"But tonight was different."

"Different how?" His words pulled me from my thoughts.

"Axel has never been so..." he paused, searching for the word. "Calm. It was easier to suppress him than it's ever been." His eyes locked onto mine again. "Because of you."

My heart stuttered. "Me?"

"When I first caught your scent, when I realized you were nearby..." His jaw clenched. "I was terrified Axel would kill you."

I resumed cleaning him. My fingers worked gently, careful not to press too hard. For just a fleeting moment, buried deep in those gray eyes, I saw fear.

It passed so quickly I almost thought I'd imagined it. Was it fear of my death? Fear for my safety?

That was insane. I pushed the thought aside and returned to his earlier question. "But he didn't. He seemed... gentle."

"That's never happened before." Logan's voice carried a note of confusion that seemed foreign on him. "Axel is violence incarnate. He's never shown mercy to anyone in his path. Yet with you, he was docile. Almost... submissive."

I processed this information, my mind racing. "Why? What's different about me?"

"I don't know."

The admission seemed to cost him something. Alpha Logan didn't strike me as someone who often said those three words. I finished cleaning the last traces of dirt from his skin and stood, preparing to give him privacy to rest.

"Don't go."

His command stopped me mid-step. I turned back to find him watching me, his expression unreadable.

"Alpha?"

"I need someone to tend to me," he said, as if that explained everything. "Stay."

Before I could respond, he reached down and pulled a thick fur blanket from the chest at the foot of the bed. He tossed it toward the fireplace where the embers still glowed with warmth.

"Make your bed there," he instructed, his eyes already closing again. "By the fire."

I stared at the blanket, then at him, then back at the blanket. But he'd already turned onto his side, his breathing evening out. The discussion was over.

With careful movements that made my bruised ribs ache, I spread the fur blanket on the stone floor near the fireplace. It was thick and soft, far better than anything I'd had access to. The warmth from the embers reached out to envelope me as I lowered myself onto the makeshift bed.

I didn't fear the cold—I never had, even during the harshest winters when other slaves had frozen to death. But that didn't mean I couldn't appreciate warmth when it was offered.

I pulled the edges of the blanket around myself and settled into a half-awake state, my senses alert for any sound from the bed. If he needed me, I wanted to hear him immediately.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him. Alpha Logan's cold, expressionless face as he'd beheaded that man in a single stroke. The careful gentleness of his hands as he'd cleaned and bandaged my wounds. The raw vulnerability in his voice when he'd spoken about his curse and the fear that flickered briefly in his eyes.

The contradictions made my head spin.

I shifted slightly on the fur blanket. The firelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, and I found myself staring at them.

I should be terrified of him. Everything I'd witnessed should have reinforced that fear. But I wasn't afraid. Not anymore.

For the first time in fifteen years, I felt something other than hopeless despair or numb acceptance.

I felt... curious. Drawn to something—someone—I didn't understand.