Free Web NovelChapter 4: Not Home
Rhea’s eyes flew open. Her chest heaved violently as she fought for air, her lungs burning. For several long seconds, she simply lay there shaking half convinced she was still dying.
Pain. She remembered pain. The knife. Kaleb. Then her hand flew shakily to her stomach. No blood. No wound.
What—? Her breath caught.
Slowly, her gaze lifted toward the unfamiliar ceiling above her and her brows furrowed. It looked wrong.
Rhea blinked hard, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. The ceiling remained unfamiliar. Dark wooden beams stretched overhead instead of the polished stone carvings from her chamber in Ironfang.
A cold ripple slid down her spine.
She pushed herself up onto her elbows, ignoring the slight pull in her muscles as her eyes swept around the room.
Nothing belonged to her.
The bed beneath her was harder, covered in thick gray furs instead of Ironfang linens. A carved wolf crest hung on the wall, but it wasn’t Ironfang’s sigil. Even the air smelled different.
She wasn’t home. No smoke from Ironfang fires. No familiar scent of her pack woven into the walls.
Instead, she smelled cedarwood, rain-soaked earth, and wolves she didn’t recognize. Strong wolves. Predatory.
If this wasn’t Ironfang, then where the hell was she?
The thought slammed into her hard enough to steal her breath again. Her pulse spiked violently as panic clawed its way back up her throat.
Then suddenly, the bedroom door swung open.
Rhea’s head snapped toward it instantly, every muscle in her body tightening on instinct.
A servant entered carrying a tray of steaming bowls, but the moment the young woman saw Rhea sitting upright, she froze so abruptly the tray rattled in her hands.
Her eyes widened almost comically. "You..." The servant swallowed hard. "You’re awake." Shock strangled the words halfway out of her throat.
Before Rhea could even ask a single question, the servant dropped the tray with a loud crash and bolted from the room.
"She’s awake!" the servant shouted frantically as her footsteps thundered down the corridor. "She’s awake!"
Rhea frowned deeply, her heart hammering against her ribs.
The scent of spilled broth filled the room as confusion swirled violently through her mind. She glanced around the unfamiliar chamber again, trying to make sense of anything, when the door opened once more. frёewebnoѵēl.com
This time, an elderly woman stepped inside.
Rhea watched her cautiously.
The woman paused near the doorway for a brief second, her sharp eyes sweeping over Rhea before she moved closer. The faint scent of herbs clung to her clothes, layered with wolf and old magic.
A healer.
"Lie back down, please," the woman said gently, though there was authority beneath her calm tone.
Before Rhea could protest, the healer pressed a firm hand to her shoulder and eased her back against the bed. Skilled fingers immediately began checking her pulse, her breathing, the healing wounds along her side.
"Do you feel dizzy?" the woman asked. "Any pain?"
But Rhea barely heard her. "Where’s Kaleb?" she asked instead.
The question escaped before she could stop it.
A small, desperate part of her still clung to the hope that none of it had been real. That Kaleb would walk through the door any second and tell her it had all been some twisted fever dream brought on by wolfsbane poison and exhaustion.
The healer glanced at her briefly before returning to inspect the bandages around her stomach. "Remain calm," she said quietly.
Rhea frowned harder. Her fingers curled tightly into the fur blanket beneath her. "Who are you?" she asked, staring at the woman now.
The healer finally looked directly at her. "I’m a healer," she replied simply. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm
The words hit Rhea like ice water. A healer.
Reality came crashing back all at once.
The Alpha ceremony. The chanting crowd. Kaleb’s knife sinking into her flesh. The forest. The darkness swallowing her whole.
Her stomach twisted violently. "So it wasn’t a dream," she murmured under her breath, more to herself than anyone else.
Her throat tightened painfully before she forced herself to ask the next question. "Where am I?"
The healer didn’t answer. Instead, she turned calmly toward the servant lingering nervously outside the doorway. "Tell him she’s awake," she instructed. "And bring warm soup."
The servant nodded quickly and hurried away again.
Rhea stared after her, confusion thickening inside her chest. "What’s happening?" she asked quietly.
This time, the healer paused. The older woman looked at her carefully, something unreadable flickering across her expression.
"Do you not remember?" she asked softly.
Rhea went still. Of course she remembered. Every horrible second of it, and that was the problem.
She remembered dying. So why was she here? Why was she breathing? Why did her wolf feel alive again beneath her skin?
"I don’t," she said finally. The lie tasted bitter on her tongue.
The healer studied her for another long moment before nodding once, saying nothing more.
"How long have I been here?" Rhea asked quietly.
The healer adjusted the blanket over her legs before answering. "Two months."
Rhea’s brows pulled together sharply. "Two?" The words barely left her lips before the healer continued.
"To be honest, we didn’t think you were going to wake up."
A strange chill crawled down Rhea’s spine.
Two months. Two entire months lost somewhere between death and survival. Questions rose rapidly inside her mind, but before she could speak again, the bedroom door swung open.
The servant entered first, carrying a tray this time with far steadier hands. Then another scent rolled into the room behind the servant.
Wolf. Powerful enough to make the air feel heavier.
Rhea’s spine locked instantly. Her wolf, silent for months, stirred beneath her skin for the first time since waking, restless and alert.
Cedarwood. Smoke. Rain-soaked earth. Dangerous.
Her pulse stumbled before she even looked up. And when she did, he stepped into the room. The last person she thought would be there.
Adam Thorne. Kaleb’s uncle. The most feared Alpha in the territory.
He filled the doorway completely. Too big for the space. Dark clothing. Broad shoulders. And a face that made Rhea’s wolf go quiet in a way she didn’t like. Power clung to him like a living thing.
Stories about Adam Thorne had followed her for years.
Known to be ruthless and unpredictable. A wolf so violent even powerful Alphas like Kaleb avoided provoking him. And despite the endless women thrown at his feet, he had never taken a Luna. Some said he hated women. Others whispered that his wolf was too unstable to bond.
Whatever the truth was, one thing remained certain. Everyone feared Adam Thorne. And now she was in his territory. Alive because of him.
Her pulse quickened as another memory surfaced. He had been there that night. Silent in the shadows while Kaleb destroyed her.
The Alpha’s dark eyes swept over her once before settling on her face. "Interesting."
The single word sent unease crawling down her spine.
Adam moved closer. "Tell me, Luna," he said calmly. "How does it feel to wake up as a ghost?"
Rhea froze. Ghost?
Adam’s mouth curved slightly. "Because Ironfang buried you two months ago."
