Anastasia

I am healing, despite it being a painstakingly long process, I feel my body slowly returning to a semblance of its former self.

My legs, which ached for days, causing me so much discomfort even when I simply tried to sleep, were now becoming less tense and a bit more flexible.

It's been exactly two weeks since Kierren found me. I am still having a hard time wrapping my head around everything that's happened since then, but as time goes by, I seem to be accepting of where I am.

The small town of Simi Valley, where the Moon Valley Tribe takes residence, is unlike anything I have ever seen before. It's rich in crops and wildlife fit for a feast anytime of the year. And with the town set upon an inclining hill, it's closer to the moon. They're a pretty self-sufficient bunch, and there's really no need to go anywhere out of bounds to get anything when everything is right here. From schools to training grounds, and supermarkets and health supplies, the people of Simi Valley have it all covered.

It's hard to believe that just further up, on the other side of Los Padres, a town as dull as the home of Blood Moon exists. If it hadn't been for my chance arrival here, I would have never questioned Santa Clarita's gloominess. I always thought that it was my own dark cloud hanging over my shoulder that made it impossible for the light to come in. But that was never the case. This place is intoxicating - the gentle air, the light atmosphere, the friendly wolves. Ah, I can imagine myself living in a place like this. Maybe life wouldn't be so dreary after all.

Ralph, having been completely elated when he came to check up on me this morning only to find that I was behind the door instead of still in bed like I have been this past week, suggested we take a walk around. He says the light exercise will help my recovery. He's way too excited about finding his long-lost half-sister, and for the soon-to-be Alpha, it's rather amusing to see his boyish grin as he takes me around the pasture where the crops and flowers grow.

"Over there are the herbs I've grown to use for my work."

"Wow," I tread further into the covered part of the farm where his plants are obviously being well taken care of, "this must have taken you a long time to get them as healthy as this."

"Uhm," Ralph reaches down and plucks a mint leaf off its root, "not really. You see, there are many benefits from living this high up the mountain. Not only does the moonlight send blessings down on our healing and plants, but our water has some amazing benefits too."

"You seem very smart for your age, Ralph."

"Well, I'm not much younger than you," he shoots me a grin as he passes me the leaf and picks another, putting it to his nose to inhale. "Can you believe our mothers were cousins? If anyone looked at us, they'd swear we were twins!" he chuckles as he bends down at a row of a green herb I don't quite recognize.

"What is that?"

"This?" he points, and I nod. "This is feverfew. It's commonly used to treat fevers, but I discovered that it can be used to treat wounds. The heat in our bodies makes it harder for a wolf to heal from some injuries, but the feverfew draws the heat out and allows our bodies to naturally heal. It's what I used on you. Although," he stands up and presses a finger to his cheek, "you haven't healed well enough."

"Maybe there's something wrong with me, then," I jokingly reply.

"Do you know if you have any gifts, Anastasia?"

Gifts? I had never thought about it before. Me, a lowly Omega having gifts? Not a chance!

"I guess you were the lucky one."

"I think you may have a gift, you just haven't explored it yet."

I'm about to debate that, when a familiar voice behind us says, "I'm sorry to interrupt."

Both Ralph and I turn to find Amelia standing at the opening of the shelter, but her eyes lights up for one reason, and in their hazel depths I see a reminder of how my heart did a complete flip every time Jacob looked at me. Hiding my amusement, I watch as Ralph offers her the single leaf, and she nervously takes it the way any young girl would if they were receiving a rose.

"Have you watered the - uhm - the herbs today, Amelia?"

She quickly nods her head, giving him a sheepish grin. "I have, Alpha."

Dear Moon Goddess! She reminds me so much of myself, it's almost cringey to watch. I giggle under my breath, and offer her my own mint leaf. Her cheeks flush as she takes it, as if she's been caught out.

"Your father wants you at the den, Alpha Ralph."

"I'm n-not the Alpha yet, Amelia."

Amelia tucks her hair behind her ear and stares at the floor. "But you will be soon. It's why he's calling you."

Ralph blows out an exasperated breath and turns to me. "I'm so sorry. Amelia, would you mind taking Anastasia back to her room? I was supposed to check your injuries."

"Of course I will."

"Wait," I frown, "what about my grand tour?"

"Uhm," he turns to Amelia again, who is obviously trying her very best not to make eye contact with him, "would you mind?'

"I'd love to," she whispers so low I almost don't catch it. Ralph shoots me a wink and speeds away, leaving us in his herb garden.

Amelia strokes the mint leaf with her thumb, and when I tap her on the shoulder it's almost like her soul jumps out of her body.

"I'm sorry, the tour. What have you seen already? What will you like to see? The school's just up that way and -"

I stop her with a hand on her shoulder. "Breathe, Amelia," I remind her and wait until she takes a deep breath, "there you go. Now, I have no keen interest in anything around here. Not right now, anyway. I am starving."

"There's a restaurant down that way," she points behind her, but I shake my head.

"Not that kind of hungry, silly," I giggle, "I wanna catch it with my own hands."

I've been dying for a hunt ever since I was able to stand on my own two feet. It seemed that laying in bed stewing in my own juices made me only thing that I wasn't dying for food. A hunt seems like the perfect thing to keep me distracted from what I truly miss.

Amelia catches on slowly, and smirks as she leans in, covering my ear with a cupped hand as if someone might hear her. "Alpha Kierren said to keep an eye on you so you wouldn't use your wolf for now. But if we sneak out tonight, I'm pretty sure we can get passed the guards if we're careful."

My type of girl! I punch the air victoriously, but Amelia grabs my wrist and wiggles a dainty finger in front of my face. "Not so fast. I won't sneak out with you unless I'm sure you're fit to shapeshift."

"Of course I'm fit!" taking a step back, I gesture at my body, "look!"

"Come on," she grabs my hand and pulls me out of the shelter towards the Alpha's mansion, "I have to be sure!"

Her attentiveness and care touches my heart. It feels like a lifetime ago since I had anyone in my life who truly cared for me. My mother? Gone. My best friend too. And ever since then, all I got was shunning and abuse. I took it all, believing it to be the norm. When in reality, the only reason I did and never left even though they tried to worm me out, was for him.

Nope! I will not think about the past anymore. I haven't even decided yet if I want to go back at all, even if it's just to formally cut ties with the Blood Moon Pack. I don't know if I can stand to face him again, after having my feelings reduced to nothing.

Amelia doesn't release my hand until we're inside the mansion, and behind the closed door of the room I occupied now. With each passing day, I was given new items to furnish the room - from a carved headboard, to the two varnished stools in front of the dresser.

Amelia pulls those stools out, and pats one for me to take a seat on. Groaning because I feel more like a lab rat each day when they insist that I haven't fully recovered. But I'm used to being left with a couple of scratches and scars long after supposedly healing, so it doesn't surprise me as much as it does Amelia when she tends to my wounds.

"You know," she says as she pats my skin with the ointment made of herbs and natural oils, "your scars don't seem to be healing fast enough."

I swipe my finger across a scar I earned from the edge of the ravine, where a sharp stone must have sliced all the way down to my elbow. "See?" I lift my clean finger up, "not a trace of blood here."

"That's not what I mean, Ana. Look," she pulls her left sleeve up and points to a faded scar on her arm, "this happened two days ago. I wasn't watching where I was going during a hunt, and ended up getting hurt on an old fence. Two days."

"So?" I shrug.

"So, you're the daughter of the Alpha. Your blood is meant to leave you flawless. No scars. No signs of torment."

"Do you think Alpha Kierren is mistaken? What if I'm not his daughter?"

"Don't be silly!" she slaps my shoulder, and I wince from the phantom pain of having that very same shoulder struck by the rogues. "Alpha Kierren never makes mistakes. Maybe it's like what Ralph said before you woke up. It's as if you were preventing yourself from waking up."

"I was?"

"Yeah," she folds the other sleeve across my arm, then places my hand on her lap, palm facing up, "he said he could see that you were holding on to -"

Suddenly, she stops, and I frown as I watch her staring at my hand, only to realize what she's seen. I snatch my hand back, quickly folding my sleeve back down. I'm about to get off the chair when she grabs that very same wrist and breathes,

"Trauma."

"It's nothing, Amelia."

"It's not nothing," she slowly lifts her head, and in her eyes I see the greatest concern, "it must have been one helluva trauma if you were able to fight against the Alpha blood's natural instincts."

"Is that not something I should be able to do?"

"No. Unless it has to with whatever gift you possess that just hasn't been discovered yet. But a wolf's natural survival instinct always kicks in to rapidly heal anything. Your scars - they're old, aren't they? I mean, surely you couldn't have done this anytime now. Ralph would have noticed."

It's the part about the wolf's natural instinct to heal itself that strikes me. I never thought of it that way before, always believing that the scars that remained were because of my lowly rank, a disposable Omega. What if…

What if I'm the reason for not healing from the scars? What if Ralph was right, and I was holding on to the past so tightly, that it was showing on my skin?

I gently pull my hand away, and as my sleeve drifts up, I'm met with the sight of my own trauma. But as the realization comes to me - that I am the reason I don't heal - I see one of the oldest scars, a thin, amateurish line from my very first attempt, fade right before my eyes, only confirming my suspicion.