Bound forget in pain

Leah’s POV

It was all my fault.

The guilt twisted in my stomach, hot and unyielding. I opened my mouth to apologize once more, but Celia’s voice cut in, soft but firm.

"Leah, stop it," she said, her dhaky hands gripping the edge of her torn skirt. "This isn’t your fault. You need to stop blaming yourself."

I paused, unsure of what to say. My eyes shot to her, but the weariness etched into her pale face made my anger and guilt falter. "Not my fault?" I asked, my voice steady. "You were whipped—humiliated—all because you were defending me. How can you say it’s not my fault?"

I looked at her, startled by her words. "How can you say that? Look at you! They did this to you because of me!"

Esme shifted against the wall, flinching as the movement strained her injured body. "Leah, listen to her," she said, her voice rough but firm. "They weren’t punishing us because of you. This… this is just what they normally do. Wolves have always treated humans like trash, like we’re not even worth the air we breathe."

A bitter laugh slipped from Rosa, though it sounded more like a pained sigh. "It’s all because of a war we didn’t even know how it started. A war that happened so long ago, none of us here were even born then, to witness it. And yet, here we are, paying the price." Her words were loaded with anger and a weariness so deep it twisted my heart.

I sat back on my heels, absorbing their words wash. The weight of their pain felt unbearable. "But you defended me," I finally said, my voice faltering. "You didn’t have to, but you did. You shouldn’t have done that."

Her bitterness was palpable, slicing through the air like a knife. I opened my mouth to argue, but what could I say? They were right.

"But you shouldn’t have defended me," I finally said, my voice shaking. "You knew what they would do. You shouldn’t have—"

"Stop it, Leah," Celia interrupted sharply. Her eyes, usually so gentle, were blazing with defiance. "How could we stand by without defending our kind? You’re one of us. You are the only one who understands the pains we have been through for years in this place."

My throat tightened, the words caught there like stones. They were defending me because they felt I was worth defending. But at what cost?

"You don’t understand," I whispered. "You shouldn’t have done it. Not for me."

"Well, we did," Rosa shot back, her tone fierce despite her weakened state. "And we’d do it again."

The room fell into an uneasy silence, their words echoing in my mind. I didn’t know how to respond, so I focused on what I could do to—help them.

I grabbed my bag, my hands shaking as I took out the small pouches of herbs and salves I always carried.

"What are you doing?" Rosa asked sharply, her voice filled with concern.

I didn’t look up. "Treating your injuries," I replied simply, unrolling a clean piece of cloth.

"No, Leah," Rosa shot back, her tone suddenly panicked. "You can’t. Not with that. What if someone notices? Do you want to get us all in trouble again?"

Celia and Esme exchanged anxious looks, their face filled with fear.

"Rosa’s right," Esme said quietly. "Leah, if they find out you’re using the Alpha’s supplies on us—"

"They won’t find out," I said firmly, interrupting her.

Rosa narrowed her eyes at me, her voice rising. "Do you even hear yourself? Those salves—those herbs—they’re what you use in treating him. Alpha Keal. Do you know what he’ll do to us if he finds out you treated our injury.?"

Her words sent a shiver down my spine, but I held my ground. I met her gaze directly, my voice steady. "Do you think I care about that? About what Alpha Keal thinks?"

Rosa flinched, her face shifting between disbelief and something else—fear, maybe. Or anger.

"Leah, this is madness," she said, her voice softer now, almost pleading. "Why would you risk this for us?"

"Because you’re more important to me than he does," I replied, the words escaping before I could hold them back.

The room went fell utterly silent. I could feel stares on me, heavy with shock and disbelief.

"What?" Celia whispered, her voice faint.

"You heard me," I replied, my tone determined."You’re more important to me than Keal. All of you are. And I don’t care what he or anyone else thinks about that."

"But—" Rosa started, her voice quivering.

"No buts," I cut in, my tone leaving no room for arguments."You don’t need to worry about the supplies. I always have extra—enough that no one will notice if a bit goes missing. And even if they do, let them. I won't just sit here and do nothing while you’re in pain."

 My hands  worked swiftly, carefully applying the salves and bandaging torn flesh with a clean piece of clothes. The gentle murmurs of pain from the girls—Celia, Rosa, balla, and Esme—were soft but constant, each sound piercing my chest like knife.

"Hold still," I whispered, pressing down on a particularly deep cut on Celia's arm. Her sharp breath was followed by a stifled cry. "I know it hurts, but I need to stop the bleeding."

"I’m fine," Celia replied, her voice tense  with effort. Her pale face was twisted in pain, but her eyes burned with determination.

Beside her, Rosa hissed as she shifted, clutching her side. "Keep it down," she warned, her tone low and urgent. "If one of those soldiers hears us, we’re all dead."

My hands paused for a moment, the weight of her words pressing down on me. The thought of those soldiers—of their cold, unfeeling eyes and brutal hands—made my blood run cold. But I couldn’t let that fear stop me.

"You’re doing well, Leah," Esme said softly, trying to keep her voice steady despite the wince that accompanied her words. "Thank you for this."

I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Don’t thank me," I replied, focusing on smoothing the last bandage over Celia’s wound. "This should never have happened  to you."

As I turned to Rosa, she looked at me with a mix of gratitude and concern."Leah, you’re too stubborn for your own good," she muttered as I began cleaning the cut on her leg.

"And you’re too talkative for someone who’s supposed to be quiet," I shot back, trying to keep my tone light.

Her lips twitched, but the faint attempt at humor faded as she glanced toward the door. The tension in the room was thick, every creak of the old floorboards outside making us startle..

When I finally finished treating Esme's last injury, the five of them exchanged anxious looks. Rosa was the first to speak.

"You have to leave, leah," she said firmly, sitting up straighter despite the pain it caused.

"What? Why?" I asked, startled.

"You heard me," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "If Alpha Keal or any of his soldiers finds out you were here treating us, they’ll punish you worse than they did to us."

I opened my mouth to argue, but she raised a hand to silence me.

"No, Leah. Don’t argue," Rosa insisted. "We are grateful for what you’ve done, but you can’t stay here. It’s too risky."

Esme nodded, her eyes filled with concern. "She’s right. You’ve already risked too much for us."

I clenched my fists, anger bubbling beneath the surface. "I’m not scared of them," I said, my voice low and defiant.

"You ought to be," Celia said quietly, her gaze piercing. "We all ought to be."

For a moment, the room fell quite, the weight of their words pressing down on me like a physical load. Then Rosa pushed herself to her feet, wincing as she did.

"Go, Leah," she urged, her voice softer now. "Please. Before it becomes too late."

I nodded reluctantly,  I despiced the thought of departing from them like that, but I understood they were right.

Rosa passed me my bag, her face reflecting both grateful and urgency. "Be careful," she said.

"I will," I promised, slinging the bag over my shoulder.

I slipped out of the room, the creak of the door causing my heart to race. The hallway outside was dimly illuminated, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows on the walls. Each step I took felt like a risk, the sound of my own breathing deafening in the oppresive silence.

I crept as quietly as I could, keeping my head down, just a single wrong sound away from being caught. But before I reached the stairs, I halted abruptly. 

A voice sliced through the stillness, sharp and commanding.

"Who’s there?"

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled.

 A soldier. 

My heart surged in panick and a wave of fear swept over me. My body stiffened, my breath catching as I pressed myself flat against the wall, praying to whatever gods would listen that I wouldn’t be caught.

The soldier’s footsteps echoed down the hallway, growing louder with every second. His boots clicking against the stone floor, each step sending a surge of adrenaline through me. He was close—too close. I had no escape.

"Show yourself!" The soldier commanded his voice deep and guttural.

My hands shook, my fingers curling into tight fists to stop them from shaking. I couldn't make a sound. I had to stay still. I had to hold my breath.

I shifted slightly, my eyes scanning the hallwsy. And then I spotted—a narrow alcove just ahead. It was barely wide enough to fit into, but it was my only chance. I dashed toward it, my heart racing so hard I feared it might burst from my chest.

Just as I pressed myself into the alcove, I heard the soldier’s boots cease. The space between us felt impossibly small. He have been mere inches from where I stood.

"I know someone’s here," he muttered under his breath, his tone suspicious, his eyes scanning the hallway in the dim torchlight.

I held my breath, praying he wouldn’t look my way. My hands pressed against the stone, my legs quaking beneath me. The air in the alcove felt thick, suffocating. I could feel the sweat trickling down my spine, the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears.

Seconds dragged on like hours. I thought I would suffocate on my own fear. He was so close. Too close.