A Lone Wolf

The grey-haired young woman was unconscious and lying in her own pool of blood because of the three arrows which were firmly planted into her flesh. Wary and concerned at the same time, Melva approached the gravely injured young woman with her arrow pointed at her, ready to shoot at any moment if the situation deemed necessary. She had not let her guard down now that she found out it was not a normal wild wolf that she had shot.

Upon closer look, Melva noticed that the injuries she had inflicted on her were not healing themselves, unlike what Vance's werewolf body could do. Was it the arrows that were still stuck in her flesh that prevented her body from healing? Or was there something else such as poison or curse?

Melva was so new to all of this supernatural phenomenon that she failed to discern what was happening to the young woman. Everything about their kind was unfamiliar to her and she learned something new everyday. She hoped she had not accidentally ended up killing someone only because she had initially intended to hunt a wolf. A wolf and a werewolf were very much different.

It was impossible to know whether she was breathing or not, for she remained still even if Melva was right in front of her. She braced herself for a sudden attack as she bravely placed a hand on the side of her neck to feel her heartbeat and check whether she was still alive. However, when her hand touched her neck, the young woman jolted awake and shifted back into a wolf.

The grey wolf growled angrily and lunged at Melva, pushing her to the ground and stepping on her legs to restrain her movement. Melva was panicking, because her bow was thrown away rather far from her due to the impact of the wolf's lunging at her. And she was now unable to move because the wolf's claws were digging into both of her arms, pinning them to the ground. 

The pain was already searing and when the wolf stepped on her even harder, the claws were going deeper and the pain became more unbearable. Melva couldn't stop the scream of agony that escaped her lips as she watched her blood flowing out of her arms and the wolf's fangs right before her eyes. The wolf growled in rage, as if threatening to rip her head off.

In a matter of seconds, a large white wolf came out of nowhere and tackled the grey wolf, sending her tumbling down to the ground and prying her claws away Melva's arms. When she finally felt the claws leaving her, she let out a sigh of relief and scrambled back to search for her abandoned bow as the white wolf—Vance—was dealing with the grey wolf. A bow would not have any advantage in such a close range, so she backed away and distanced herself from them.

Unfortunately, both of Melva's arms were severely injured because of the claws, therefore she was unable to properly hold the bow, much less aim and shoot. She could barely feel her arms and she couldn't stop her hands from trembling. They were numb.

Groaning in exasperation, Melva had no choice but to unsheathe her daggers. They were easier to control with her trembling hands. However, that also meant that she had to get close to them to actually inflict damage and getting herself involved in a werewolf fight while she was only human didn't seem like a smart move. Gripping the hilts of her daggers, she impatiently waited for a chance to get close to them without making the situation more difficult for Vance.

Vance then turned to Melva in the middle of the fight and growled at her, as if he was trying to warn her, yelling to her not to come too close to them. Melva stopped dead in her tracks and nodded in understanding. If Vance was sure he could deal with the grey wolf himself, then she would not be in his way. She resorted to standing by in a distance, preparing her stance to lunge if the opportunity presented itself.

The adrenaline of the fight caused the pain in her arms to feel numb at the moment, but it didn't mean the injuries would heal themselves and she would suddenly be able to shoot again. Perhaps, Vance was right. She would do more harm than good by jumping into the fight.

Vance was howling at the grey wolf, like he was ordering the other wolf to calm down and stop fighting him. Even if the grey wolf was much smaller than Vance's wolf form, she didn't show any fear in challenging him. His eyes were glowing so brightly that it was shining. It was like he was showing her that he was the alpha and she should submit to him.

After a bout of loud and intense howling, the grey wolf finally stopped trying to fight him. She bowed down to him and submitted, showing her allegiance to the alpha. And slowly, her wolf body morphed into a human—a naked young woman with grey hair who must be around Melva's age, which was probably around twenty. 

Melva had lost her memories, thus she had no idea how old she was nor when her birthday was, but the townspeople had told her that she seemed to be in her early twenties. She had been a young child when she had found herself stranded in Ichorhold alone with no memories. And it had been a decade since then.

Now that the young woman had turned back into a human, her wounds were starting to take a toll on her body and she passed out, probably due to the excessive loss of blood. Melva's arrows were still firmly stuck into her flesh, blood continuously oozing out from the wounds. They had not been healing themselves.

Seeing that the situation was fully under control, Vance shifted back into his human form and Melva was quick to turn around, saving herself from having to look at his naked body.

"I will take her back into the manor to have her injuries treated," said Vance hastily. 

And then she heard his footsteps going away, farther and farther from her, until it was silent. She whipped around and realised that Vance had taken the young woman with her and left the forest for his manor. It was shocking to her, knowing that he would actually leave her alone and injured in the forest.

Somehow, it was upsetting that he had prioritised this unknown woman over her. She was also injured, even if her wounds were not as severe as the werewolf's. Probably it was because the woman was one of his kind, but Melva was his future mate. It was impossible to know what was on his mind. 

She should not be upset over this. What was she thinking? Since when had she bothered herself with what he thought of her? She must be losing her mind.

Now that the adrenaline had worn off, the pain in her arms intensified and she was suddenly unable to breathe. She stopped to sit down under a tree, leaning her back against the bark to rest and catch her breath. The pain was burning her arms and her hold on the daggers loosened, dropping them to the ground. 

She belatedly realised that her legs were also cut deep by the wolf's claws, but she had not felt it earlier because of the adrenaline. They were as severe as the cuts in her arms. She was unable to get up without falling back down immediately because her legs had lost their strength. 

Alone, injured, and helpless. How pathetic. She scoffed bitterly at her own pitiful situation. The only thing she could do was wait until she recovered her strength and the pain became slightly bearable before she could try walking back towards the manor.

However, there was another problem.

Her current ordeal reminded her a lot of how she had been abandoned and stranded in Ichorhold. She was abandoned. Again. She tried not to think much of it, but the darker the sky got and the longer she was being alone, she couldn't help but think that Vance had abandoned her, just like how her supposed family had as she had lost her memory.

Vance had abandoned her as soon as he had found another woman to tend to. Melva was disposable. Unimportant. Ichorhold had sent her away because she was a product of bargain. She was merely a tool. An replaceable one.

Melva began to panic. Her breaths were getting shorter and shorter. Her sight was getting blurry as her heart raced due to the intense anxiety. Her pain in her limbs intensified. Everything was hurting. She could barely breathe as the air seemed to get thinner around her. She was suffocated. Her fist pounded at her chest to force her lungs to get some air into her.

"Melva! Breathe! Look at me!"

A loud voice snapped her back to the present and she saw Vance was crouching down in front of her, looking intently into her eyes, his face filled with concern. His hands were both cupping her cheeks, his thumbs rubbing away her tears. She had not realised she had been crying.

"You did not leave?" whispered Melva in disbelief.

Vance gave her a reassuring smile, probably the most genuine smile he had ever given her. "What do you mean? I will never leave you."