Chapter 2: Chapter 2

MIA'S POV:

I frown when I feel the sunlight hit my face. I groan because I must've forgotten to close the curtains last night. I was so exhausted though and didn't feel like getting up. I stayed up late last night, grinding herbs, mixing herbs, boiling herbs etc. Demands for my products have increased since winter was setting in, people need to store up healing products for the winter sniffles.

This is because I am a healer. My mother was a healer and her mother was a healer as all the females in our bloodline were. They've passed down secret herbal creams from generation to generation. So I guess you could say that I am a herbal healer, but next level and no I do not handle the herb...marijuana if that's what you're thinking.

I slowly get out of bed and stretch my arms up. I look at my cute little cottage. It reminds me of those fairytale stories kind of cottage style. It's small, but I'm living on my own so, why would I need a big place right? I quickly make my bed and take a shower. I do this every morning. I put on my silky baby pink gown and walk into my closet to choose my outfit for the day. I decided to wear a nice simple cream dress.

After I got my clothes sorted I went into the kitchen and made myself a cup of tea. I stepped out onto the small deck and sat on the furniture which consists of two rocking chairs and a small table. I curled up in a ball and drank my tea while I watch the sunrise. I always like doing this on those crispy clear mornings. The fall leaves look even more orange and red with the sunlight upon them.

"Oh, Miss!" I hear. I flick my eyes towards an old woman and I greet her with a smile.

"Hello Mrs Sanders, how are you this fine morning."

She smiles at me sweetly, "I am good thank you," she looks around anxiously and says, "I know I am not allowed to be here, but the other healers in the pack are just not as good as you."

I frown in concern, "What's the matter?"

"My granddaughter, she has a bad chest cold. Normally I wouldn't have worried, but she's just not getting any better. If anything she's getting progressively worse as the days grow colder. Perhaps you have something she could drink?"

I get up from my chair and sit my tea on the table, "Of course, come with me."

She quickly shakes her head, "Oh no! Don't think that's a good idea. Your scent would be on me and I do not want to explain why I was here with you," she says politely.

I sigh and smile sadly, "Yes, that would make sense. Wait on my porch then." She nods her head and waits.

I go inside and look for the herbal tea I made for congestion. "Chest colds, chest colds, chest colds..." I mumbled as I try to find it. I finally found it behind the salve for cut infection. I quickly pour a little bit into a bag and walk outside, "Here you go, Mrs Sanders. She needs to drink it every night before she goes to bed."

She smiles and bows her head in gratitude, "Thank you, Mia." She turns to leave, but stops and looks over her shoulder, "I wish you were still in the pack, but consequences always follow closely behind mistakes. Maybe you should've thought of that before doing what you did."

My chest tightens a little at her words. I know she isn't trying to be mean, she's just trying to get me to understand. But I already understood ever since the day my pack cast me out. But her words still hurt. I smile politely, "I understand, Mrs Sanders," If only you knew the truth, I thought. She gave me a gold coin in return then made her way back to our...I mean her pack.

The people of the pack always secretly come to me for healing products and health advice. But are always very anxious to do so since it's forbidden and shameful to visit former members of the pack that have been cast out.

I return inside and sat at my desk. It is facing the window so that I can see who is coming. With the cottage feeling a bit stuffy, I opened the window slightly to let a breeze in. I look down at my desk and start to paint. Yes I love being a healer, being a healer is my passion, but being a painter is the talent that I love as well. People from all over the place come to me and pay me to paint something, or if they want to buy one of my paintings. Currently, an Alpha secretly came to me to ask if I can paint this picture of him and his mate for her birthday. It was a beautiful picture. She was looking at the camera while he was looking down at her.

It made my heart melt. Every time I work on the painting, I find myself wondering. Do I have a mate? Do wolves without a pack family allowed mates? And If I did have a mate...what would he think of me being packless? These thoughts make me anxious, but it also lights a longing desire. Being out here can be lonely, especially without friends or family. How nice would it be to have someone you can love? And love you in return? The desire to take care of each other, and live life together through the different circumstances and seasons. What a beautiful thing, I thought.

My nose twitched when I smelt something strange, distracting me from my thoughts. I look behind me. Maybe one of my oils leaked? I got up and checked. Nope, everything was tightly sealed. Strange. What is that smell? It was a fresh woodsy smell along with a spicy scent as well. It was divine. I sat back down at my desk. it's gotten stronger. What? I am so confused.

But then it dawned on me, it was the breeze. The window is open. I grabbed a coat and went outside. the smell was more obvious out here. I stepped off of my porch, deciding to follow this scent. I passes trees, bushes and flowers, but I took no notice of them as my senses were blinded and overtaken by this smell. I kept going. The scent intensifies as I get close and closer. there was a clearing up ahead. I started to jog, becoming desperate to see what this smell was. But I soon forget about the scent when I come to the clearing. There were dead men everywhere. I couldn't even breathe because I was too in shock. What happened here? The ground was stained red, trees has slash marks, bushes were ripped apart...and pieces of dead rogue bodies were scattered. Whatever thing killed these rogues must've been a frightening beast. Considering how fresh the scent was, it looks like it happened recently. Maybe last night? Not wanting to be near such a sight, I turned to leave. I didn't see the log that I was nearing and tripped over it. I groan.

Haha nice one! You made yourself look like a fool in front of the rogues-My wolf, Nina

I roll my eyes, They're dead Nina they can't see or hear me.

Suddenly the log I tripped over groaned. I quickly got up and backed away from the noise-making log, "What the hell was that?"

Oh! The log even heard you!

I ignored my wolf and looked at the log. That's when I realized it wasn't a log. It was a man. And by the smell of it, he was from a pack. He had cuts all over him. he has to be dead. right? I leaned in closer and I smelt it. I backed away slightly. He was the scent I was following. Strange.

He groaned, you idiot! Does that sound dead to you?

He was covered in blood, by the smells of it, it was his own mixed with others. I tilted my head when I smelt something mixed with his scent. I leaned in closer and my nose scrunched in disgust as I smelt wolfsbane. No wonder he wasn't healing, I thought.

"I have to get him back to the cottage," I shifted into my creamy wolf. I used my teeth to drag him onto my back. I then made my way back home. I quickly cleaned the table off and laid him on there. I notice there's a broken arrow lodged in his chest. I can fix that. I get some scissors and cut his shirt open and my eyes widen.

God please forgive me for all the impure thoughts I have right now.

Shut up Nina and let me concentrate!

But I have to admit that she was right. He was very impressive. He was very wide and broad. And his muscles just made him even more massive. By the length of him, he looks 6foot5? He's a beast. I frowned, wait...was this the wolf that killed all the rogues? Surely not all by himself? It made me a bit more cautious of him knowing what he could be capable of.

He's my beast, Nina purred.

I just ignore her and try to concentrate. I take the ripped shirt and throw it in the rubbish. There's no use for you anymore. I get some salve, alcohol and pads ready. I grab ahold of the arrow and with all my strength pull it out. I feel it slowly slipping out. When I finally yanked the damn thing out, blood started to pour out of it. I grab ahold of the pads and start to wipe while pouring some alcohol on top. I need to make sure his blood doesn't get infected. I keep wiping. I grab some salve and start rubbing it into the wound so that it filled. This stops the bleeding as well as activates his healing white cells so that he can recover quicker. I put some more of the salve on the tip until it's thick. I then start to lair some pads on top. There, all fixed.

A plopping sound catches my attention, I look down and see blood on my boot. I frown. I see that it dropped from the table. I move his shoulder slightly and see a giant knife slice all the way down his back. I haven't seen a cut so deep and long before. It's horrific. It took me about a half-hour to flip him over on the table so that he was lying on his stomach. I wiped my forehead of sweat, "Why do you have to be so damn big!" I complained.

I start to clean the wound until it's only bleeding slightly. I get the supplies needed to stitch the thing together. I lay all my needles and string out. I grabbed the thickest string and needle for this one. A big cut like this needs something strong to hold it together. I push the skin together and start to sow his flesh into one again. It took me an hour to put him back together. After it was done, I put on a quick coat of salve and some pads so that he won't rip it or get it dirty and infected. I then put on a thicker layer of pads. I flip him back over, which was a workout in itself. I have a look at his arrow wound. It's stopped bleeding which gives me a chance to stitch that as well. After doing that I put pads on top again. My back is starting to hurt again.

I grab a cloth to wipe his forehead. He's getting a fever, but stop when I see his eyes are open. And they're staring right at me. His eyes...crystal blue like the Caribbean sea. He's breathing heavily from the fever he's in. I slowly put the cold cloth on his forehead and start to softly pat his face.

"Am I dead?" He asks.

"No." I said simply.

"Then why do I see an angel." I feel my cheeks heat up. he chuckles, "The angel blushes."

I cough uncomfortably, "I'm not an angel. I'm a healer. You were attacked," I explained.

He raises a brow lazily, "Is that an excuse to touch me?"

I couldn't help but smirk at his cheekiness. He'll be a bit loopy until he's fully healed. "No, now rest, I'll be making some hot soup for you later."

His eyes are hazy looking, "Your scent...is divine. I've never smelt something so delicious. Please, my angel, let me have a taste." I just smile at him. He's an interesting one.

"Why does your smell play games in my head, angel? Why does it make me want you so bad? Not even my wife smelt like that."

I stop wiping his head and frown, "You should not be talking to me in such a way if you have a mate, sir," I lightly reprimanded.

He smiles sadly, "She wasn't my mate, she was human and I married her."

I tilted my head in curiosity, "Why?"

"Because I needed to...but she is long gone now."

I was scared to ask, but I did anyway, "W-what happened to her?"

"A rogue tortured her and made her insane. When I found her, she was not the woman I had married anymore, she would have hurt others if I didn't do what I did."

"What did you do?" I whispered.

His eyes glazed over, as if he was reliving the moment, "I killed her, to put her out of her own misery. She would have wanted me to. She wouldn't have wanted to live like that."

My heart hurt for what this man went through. I nod my head and softly said, "Well you did a very selfless thing. You had the courage to do what most men wouldn't have been able to do for the person they loved."

He nodded his head. His eyes reconnect with mine. I can feel there was a bond forming. Could he be my mate? I've heard that when people meet their mate, there's an instant connection. But there isn't anything instant about this moment. It feels like a small smouldering fire.

"But you," He whispered, "Somehow, you chase all the bad away...you chase the pain, torture and grief and leave nothing but good. Why? Why do you do this to me? I can't...I can't-" His words start to get muddled.

"ssshhhh, it's okay, you're okay." I turn to leave, but he quickly grabs a hold of my hand, "Don't leave...please...stay."

I wasn't going to, but his sad eyes were staring at me, almost pleading with me to not leave him alone and I couldn't help but nod and sit down while he is still lying on the table, "Okay," I whisper, "I'll stay...now rest, sir, you need it."

He closes his eyes and says, "My name...is Noah."