Chapter 12 Elara's POV
The nausea hit me before I even opened my eyes.
I rolled onto my side quickly, pressing my hand against my mouth, willing myself not to be sick. My stomach churned and twisted, and for a moment I thought I wouldn't be able to hold it back.
"Here."
Damian's voice came from beside me. I opened my eyes to see him holding out a small bucket. I grabbed it and threw up, my whole body heaving with effort.
When I was finished, I slumped back against the wall, exhausted. Damian took the bucket away without a word and returned a moment later with water.
"Small sips." He instructed.
I did as he said, letting the cool water wash away the awful taste in my mouth. "How long has it been since the attack?"
"Five days." Damian said. "You've been in and out of consciousness for most of it. This is the first morning you've been fully awake."
Five days. It felt both longer and shorter than that at the same time.
"Is this normal?" I asked, gesturing weakly to the bucket. "The sickness?"
"Morning sickness is common in early pregnancy. It usually starts around six weeks." He sat down on the crate he'd been using as a chair.
"Based on your symptoms, I would estimate you're somewhere between six and eight weeks along.”
Six to eight weeks. I tried to count backward, tried to remember when this baby could have been conceived, but there was nothing. Just the same frustrating blank space where my memories should be.
"But the baby is okay?" I asked quietly.
"After everything that happened, after the beating, the baby is still alive?"
Damian nodded. "The cramping you experienced was concerning, but it's stopped now.”
“Morning sickness is actually a good sign; it means your hormone levels are where they should be. Your body is still supporting the pregnancy."
Relief flooded through me so strongly that tears sprang to my eyes. I pressed my hand against my still flat stomach. "Thank God."
I didn't know who the father was. Didn't know the circumstances of this pregnancy. Didn't even know my own last name. But I knew one thing with absolute certainty: I wanted this baby and needed this baby to survive.
"We need to leave.” Damian said, interrupting my thoughts.
I looked up at him. "Leave? Why?"
"Staying in one place is so dangerous that patrol found us once. They could come back. And if they're still looking for you, this area isn't safe."
He was right. I knew he was right. But the thought of moving, of walking through the forest when I could barely stand without feeling dizzy, made me want to cry.
"Where would we go?" I asked.
"There's a town about fifteen miles west of here. Small place, mostly humans with a few wolves mixed in. We could blend in there while you recover and while we figure out what to do next."
"Fifteen miles?" I looked down at myself. I was still covered in bruises, still weak from the attack and the days of unconsciousness.
"I don't think I can walk that far."
"We will go slowly and take breaks when you need them. I have some supplies we can trade for food and shelter once we get there."
I wanted to argue, wanted to say that I needed more time to heal, but I knew we didn't have that luxury. "When do we leave?"
"Tomorrow morning that gives you today to rest and regain some strength."
The rest of the day passed slowly. Damian checked my wounds, changed my bandages, and made me eat some dried meat even though my stomach protested. I kept it down, barely.
As the afternoon wore on, we talked. It was better than sitting in silence, better than dwelling on everything I couldn't remember.
"You said you found me in the forest." I said. "What were you doing out there?"
"Traveling.” Damian replied.
"I move around a lot and never stay in one place for long."
"Why not?"
He was quiet for a moment. "I don't have a permanent pack, never have I preferred it that way."
"But you are a wolf, right? I can sense it, even though I can't remember much else. Don't wolves need packs?"
"Most do. I'm not most wolves." He looked at me.
"I'm a doctor. I have skills that packs need, so they tolerate my presence even though I'm not formally part of their structure. I go where I'm needed, stay as long as they need me, then move on."
"That sounds lonely," I said.
Damian shrugged. "It has its advantages. No politics, no pack drama, no Alpha breathing down my neck about loyalty and duty."
"Where were you headed when you found me?"
"Actually, I was on my way to a pack that requested my services. They're dealing with an outbreak of some kind. Nothing serious, but their own healer is overwhelmed."
"Which pack?"
"Have the Blue Moon Pack ever heard of it?"
Blue Moon Pack I turned the name over in my mind, searching for any flicker of recognition. But there was nothing. Just like everything else.
"No." I said.
"I don't think so."
"Well, they are one of the larger packs in this region. Strong Alpha, good territory. They're offering decent payment for a few weeks of work."
"Will you still go? Even with me slowing you down?"
Damian looked at me seriously. "I told them I'd arrive within the week. We have time to get you settled in the town first. After that, I'll need to fulfill my commitment. But I'll make sure you're safe before I leave."
"You don't have to do that. You've already done so much for me."
"You are pregnant and injured with no memory of who you are or where you came from. I'm not going to abandon you in some random town."
His kindness made my throat tight with emotion. "Why are you helping me? You don't even know me."
"Does that matter?"
"Most people wouldn't stop to help a stranger."
"Then most people are idiots.” Damian said simply.
"You needed help. I was there, that's all the reason I need."
We fell into comfortable silence after that. Despite everything he feared, the uncertainty, the gaping holes in my memory I felt safe with Damian. He didn't ask questions I couldn't answer. Didn't push me to remember things I couldn't recall he just helped.
As evening approached, Damian went outside to check the perimeter of the shack. I heard him walking around, his footsteps crunching on the forest floor.
Then the footsteps stopped.
"Elara." His voice came through the wall, tight with tension.
"Come here carefully."
I got up slowly, my body protesting every movement, and made my way to the door. Damian was standing a few feet from the shack, staring at something in the trees.
"What is it?" I asked.
He pointed.
I followed his gaze and felt my blood run cold.
On the tree directly in front of the shack, someone had carved symbols. They were deep and deliberate, cut into the bark with precision. There were three of them, arranged in a triangle pattern.
"What are those?" I whispered.
"I don't know." Damian said.
"But they weren't here this morning.
I looked around now that I was paying attention, I could see more of them. On trees surrounding the shack. Some close, some farther away. All the same three symbols, repeated over and over.
"Someone marked this area.” Damian said quietly. "Recently while we were inside."
"What do they mean?"
"I don't know but we need to leave now."
We stepped out of the shack and into the darkening forest.
And all around us, carved into every tree we could see, were those strange symbols.