The Alpha's Summons

Elara POV

The harsh, sterile scent of antiseptic burned my nostrils as I sat rigidly on the cold examination table. The crinkly paper beneath me rustled loudly in the quiet environment of the pack clinic every time I breathed. I gripped the edges of the metal table, my knuckles turning entirely white, fidgeting nervously under the doctor's intense, unwavering gaze.

With a sudden, sickening crack, Dr. Maura forcefully pushed my freshly broken nose back into its proper alignment.

A blinding flash of agony exploded brightly behind my eyes. The sharp, metallic copper taste of my own blood from Vespera's brutal punch still coated the back of my throat, making me want to gag. My vision swam with dark spots, and my entire face throbbed with a relentless, burning heat, but I forced my jaw shut. I stayed completely silent, swallowing down the ragged cry that desperately wanted to tear free from my lips. I just gripped the edge of the table tighter, waiting for the worst of the pain to recede.

Dr. Maura was not pleased. She handed me a damp washcloth, and as I gratefully wiped the smeared blood off my chin and cheeks, I felt her piercing blue eyes narrow in severe displeasure. She didn't just look at my face; her sharp gaze traveled downward, critically studying the various healing, ugly bruises scattered in chaotic patterns across my bare arms and the side of my neck.

She folded her arms tightly across her chest, her posture rigid and unyielding. "This is the third time this month you've ended up sitting in this clinic," she stated, her voice clipping the quiet air of the room. She pursed her lips, emphasizing her next words with a heavy dose of skepticism. "With so-called injuries you've supposedly sustained through sheer bad luck, Elara. Is there something you would like to confess to me?"

Panic instantly flutters in my chest, a cold, frantic bird beating against my ribs. My mouth went bone dry. "No," I stammered, my voice sounding incredibly weak and flimsy even to my own ears. "It was just... a clumsy training accident. Really. Nobody's fault but my own."

I was a terrible liar, and we both knew it. Dr. Maura's eyes felt like they were slicing straight through my pathetic deception, reading the ugly truth written all over my battered body.

"Right," she muttered, her tone dripping with disbelief. She took a step closer, towering slightly over me. "And the badly sprained wrist before that? Was that also a clumsy accident?" She raised a challenging eyebrow. "Or the cracked rib the month before? Are you really trying to convince me that you are just the unluckiest girl in the entire Crimson Moon Pack?"

I flushed, dropping my gaze to the scuffed linoleum floor, unable to meet her piercing stare.

"It is blatantly obvious," Dr. Maura continued, her voice rising with fierce, protective frustration, "that somebody in this pack is intentionally and repeatedly hurting you. Why don't you just go and tell the Alpha and Luna about this abuse? This kind of persistent, violent behavior should absolutely not be tolerated under their leadership."

I knew she genuinely meant well. Dr. Maura was one of the very few people in this entire pack who actually looked at me like I was a living, breathing human being, rather than a cursed monster who didn't belong. She actually cared. But her solution was a naive fantasy. The reality of my miserable existence was far more complicated and infinitely more cruel.

Alpha Kaelen and Luna Vanya were the ones allowing this nightmare to happen in the first place. Whether they actively encouraged my daily torment or simply turned a deeply convenient blind eye to it, the result was exactly the same. Telling them would be a death sentence. They had always firmly blamed me for the past tragedy. What made the betrayal cut so deeply was that Luna Vanya had ironically been my late mother’s former close friend. When I was a little girl, she used to smile at me. But the day my mother died, Vanya’s warmth turned to absolute ice. She, along with the Alpha, viewed my endless, violent torment at the hands of the pack as a completely justified punishment.

I carefully set the bloodied washcloth aside. "Thank you, Dr. Maura," I said softly, my voice trembling slightly. "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I don't want to make things worse than they already are by speaking out."

"How could things possibly get any worse for you, Elara?" Dr. Maura pressed harder, her professional boundary slipping as raw worry filled her features. "You don't have a wolf. That means your healing ability is painfully slow and limited. What happens when whoever is doing this decides to escalate? What happens when these 'accidents' become fatal?"

I gave her a tight, forced smile. "I'll be careful. I promise."

She let out a heavy breath, clearly unconvinced. "If you won't speak to the Alpha, then maybe I should take matters into my own hands. I'll have a word directly with your father."

Sheer, unadulterated panic seized my entire body. My heart practically leaped into my throat, suffocating me. "No!" I gasped, my hands flying up as I pleaded with her. "No, please, Dr. Maura, you absolutely cannot do that."

She frowned, clearly taken aback by my visceral, terrified reaction.

"Please," I begged, my voice cracking as tears of genuine terror pricked the corners of my eyes. "He'll only see me as being weak and pitiful. It will only make him furious. Please, it’s better that he doesn’t know I’m here."

I knew I absolutely could not confess the horrific truth: that my own father and my golden, perfect stepsister, Vespera, were the very monsters inflicting the worst of these injuries. If my father found out I was at the clinic leaving a paper trail of their domestic abuse, the beating I would receive tonight would put me in the ground.

Dr. Maura bit her lower lip, engaging in a fierce internal debate. She looked at my desperate, pleading eyes and let out a heavy, incredibly frustrated sigh.

"Very well," she delivered a stern, chilling warning. "But listen to me closely, Elara. If this physical abuse continues, I will be morally and professionally obligated to inform the pack leaders. Regardless of your protests. As the leaders of the pack, they have a right to know what is happening under their roof."

Desperate to escape the suffocating interrogation before she changed her mind, I slid off the table. I nodded hastily, murmuring a quick string of thanks, and rushed out of the clinic as fast as my aching body could manage.

The cool outside air hit my flushed face, but it offered no relief. As I hurried along the dirt paths back toward my house, I made a frantic, iron-clad internal resolution. I would have to avoid seeking medical help from now on. No matter how badly Vespera battered me, no matter how many bones my family broke, I could never step foot inside that clinic again. If Dr. Maura spoke to anyone, my life would literally be over.

When I finally arrived back at my house, I pushed the heavy oak door open, only to freeze in my tracks.

My stepmother, Morrigan, was aggressively pacing the length of the immaculate living room floor. Her sharp heels clicked furiously against the polished hardwood. She was in a state of frantic, wildly uncharacteristic anxiety.

The moment the door clicked shut, her head snapped toward me. Her eyes widened, instantly locking onto my bloodied clothes and my severely bruised, swollen face. She didn't gasp in horror. She didn't rush forward to check if I was okay. Instead, she wildly motioned at me with pure, unadulterated disgust.

"Oh gods, look at you!" Morrigan snapped, wrinkling her nose as if my very presence was a foul odor. "Go get cleaned up immediately before you touch and dirty anything in my house! Don't you dare bleed on the rugs!"

Devoid of even a sliver of maternal concern for my physical wellbeing, she simply glared at the crimson stains ruining the aesthetic of her pristine entryway.

I sighed, too exhausted by the lingering pain in my face to even argue. I moved to walk past her, but she suddenly lunged forward, grabbing my unbruised arm with a shockingly tight grip.

"What?" I asked, struggling to keep the snarl out of my voice.

Morrigan’s eyes were practically bugging out of her head with stress. "You must dress in something highly appropriate right this second. We are expected to meet with the Alpha and Luna shortly."

I stared at her, completely dumbfounded. "Me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, you!" she barked, an urgent, panicked command. "The pack leaders specifically sent a summons. They want to see you."

Cold dread violently twisted in my chest, dropping like a lead weight straight into my stomach. The Alpha and Luna? They had actively ignored me for over a decade. They barely even acknowledged that I existed, treating me like an invisible ghost haunting the edges of their territory. Why on earth would they suddenly demand an audience with me now? Had Vespera spun another malicious lie? Was I about to be officially exiled from the pack?

Morrigan stepped closer, closing the distance between us until I could smell her overwhelming, expensive perfume. Her voice dropped into an icy, venomous threat.

"I don't know what they want," she hissed, her manicured nails digging painfully into my skin. "But I am warning you right now, Elara. You will keep your mouth completely shut about what happens behind the closed doors of this home. You will not mention a single word about your injuries. If you know what’s good for you, you will smile and play the quiet, obedient daughter."

I almost laughed aloud at the sheer, absurd paranoia radiating off her. The idea that the pack leaders would ever care enough to actually stop the abuse was a hilarious joke. They wouldn't care if Morrigan beat me to death in the town square. But seeing her face flushed almost purple with defensive rage, I wisely bit my tongue.

"Fine," I said flatly, yanking my arm free from her grasp.

I hurried upstairs, my legs feeling like heavy blocks of cement. Once inside the safety of the bathroom, I quickly stripped off my bloody, ruined clothes, throwing them into the trash. I stepped into the shower, turning the water on as hot as I could stand. The rapid, stinging spray hit the fresh bruises on my back and shoulders, making me hiss in pain, but I violently scrubbed the dried blood from my chin and neck. I watched the water swirl a dark, murky pink down the drain, taking deep, steadying breaths to try and calm my racing heart.

When I finally descended the stairs a few minutes later, dressed in a plain but presentable dark sweater and jeans, Morrigan was already waiting by the door.

She immediately latched onto my arm the second I was within reach, practically dragging me out the front door and steering me aggressively toward the towering structure of the pack house in the distance.

As we walked briskly down the winding, gravel path, Morrigan muttered frantically under her breath, her face fraught with intense anxiety.

"God knows what this is about," she complained bitterly, glaring at the ground ahead. "After all these years of not a damn peep regarding you, suddenly they demand to talk. I swear to the Goddess, I hope the Alpha and Luna haven’t suddenly developed a conscience when it comes to you."

Walking beside my abuser, I said absolutely nothing.

My mind was racing with a thousand terrifying possibilities, but my heart remained entirely hardened, encased in a thick armor of ice. Even if the Alpha and Luna had magically developed a conscience today, even if they suddenly wanted to apologize for the years of neglect, I was not about to forgive them. They were the ones who had heartlessly abandoned me. The very day my mother died, they threw me to the absolute mercy of this hostile, vicious pack and my cruel, violent family. They had stood by and watched my life become a living hell.

Guarding my swirling, chaotic emotions, I locked my jaw. I focused my eyes entirely on the massive, imposing wooden doors of the pack house looming larger with every step we took. I marched forward in stoic, unbroken silence, a thick, suffocating sense of foreboding settling heavily over my shoulders about what their sudden, unprecedented interest in me truly meant.