108

108
Aaron’s POV
“Alpha Aaron," Esmeralda's voice trembled, her eyes filled with fear as I returned to the main grounds after reassuring my Luna, my mate, that everything would be okay.
But Esmeralda’s words cut through my resolve, shattering my hope into a million scattered shards. "I think we have a problem."
My heart clenched as my mind raced, anticipating the worst. Dread settled heavily in the pit of my stomach, causing my breath to catch in my throat. "What is it?" I managed to utter, my voice tight with anxiety—every fibre of my being prayed that her response wouldn't confirm my darkest fears.
"It's a body," Esmeralda whispered, her voice filled with sorrow and hesitation. "By the lakes."
The weight of her words seemed to suffocate the air around us. My legs threatened to buckle beneath me as my thoughts immediately turned to Carrie, our beloved child who had been ripped away from us. Images of her face, her smile, flooded my mind, conflicting with the chilling thought that she may have met a tragic fate.
The desperation in my voice betrayed my deepest worries. "Is it baby Carrie?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Dread etched into every word, I struggled to control my trembling hands, holding tightly to the hope that it wasn't her.
Esmeralda's gaze met mine, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. The silence stretched between us, an agonising eternity.
"I don't know if it is her," she told me. I prayed that it wouldn't be Carrie. How would I explain such a mess to my Luna?
Suddenly, my beta appeared with a tiny bundle in his arms. "It's her, Alpha Aaron. It's Carrie. She has a pulse and is breathing, but she isn't awake. Your father is dealing with the other search parties to inform them. I am taking her to the hospital. Get Luna Isla down there at once," he shouted, running through the grounds. I froze to the spot. How in the moon goddess could this have happened?
“What sort of an animal would do this!" I growled. I started to follow my beta but stopped at the words my mate's mother said.
"It wasn't a wolf," Esmeralda stated, and I turned to look at her. "What do you mean?" I was all ears.
"This is the work of a witch, and I have a feeling I know who," she clenched her fists angrily before closing her eyes and stating some words. Before I could say or stop her, she was gone in a puff of smoke. I knew instantly that she had teleported herself back to the hybrid coven. Isla would be worried.
I needed to be in that hospital with Carrie. She needed to hold on and be okay. She was still so small. Isla would be worried, but I knew she would want to be beside Carrie.
I quickly sent a message to my Luna Isla, informing her about the situation and urging her to come to the pack hospital immediately. I knew she would be a wreck with worry, but she needed to be by Carrie's side.
As I rushed towards the hospital, a mix of anger and fear coursed through my veins. How could someone dare to harm one of our own? Especially an innocent child like Carrie. The thought of the witch responsible sent waves of rage crashing through me, fueling my determination to bring justice upon them.
When I arrived at the hospital, it was bustling with activity. Nurses and doctors were scrambling to stabilise Carrie, providing her medical attention. My heart sank at the sight of her tiny body lying motionless on the hospital bed. I clenched my fists, willing her to fight, to hold on.
Moments later, Luna Isla burst through the doors, her eyes swollen from tears. I rushed to her side, wrapping my arms around her trembling form. "We will find the person responsible for this, my love," I whispered, my voice filled with conviction. "We won't rest until justice is served."
“I told you this is the work of that Jenkins,” she growled at me.
Isla spun around, her eyes frantic as she scanned the bustling crowd, desperately yearning for the familiar sight of her mother's face. The uncertainty and worry etched across her features were palpable, and her voice was laced with a mixture of urgency and fear.
"Where is my mother?" Isla pleaded, her voice quivering with an underlying sense of vulnerability. Her words echoed through the air, seeking solace and answers amidst the swirling tumult of emotions that engulfed her.
To assuage her fears, I gently placed my hand on Isla's trembling shoulder, the touch serving as a balm to her weary soul. Meeting her gaze with determined empathy, I proceeded to unravel the truth that lay hidden within the shadows of our tangled lives.
"Isla," I began, my voice gentle yet firm, understanding the importance of delivering this news delicately. "Your mother has returned home. She believes that the individual responsible for Carrie's disappearance is not a werewolf, but rather, a witch."
As the words hung in the air, I watched a cascade of emotions wash over Isla's face: confusion, disbelief, and even a flicker of understanding. In that moment, I vowed to support her unconditionally, to stand by her side, and to navigate this turbulent storm that threatened to rupture the fragile peace we had built.
"Doctor," Isla's voice wavered with concern, her gaze fixed on the medical professional. "Can you assure me that she'll be alright? I need answers."
The tension in the room is palpable; Isla's urgency echoed in her demanding tone. Her heart ached with worry for her loved one, seeking reassurance in the face of uncertainty. The doctor, understanding the gravity of the situation, met her gaze with a calm yet empathetic expression.
"We are doing everything we can," the doctor replied, their voice carrying a gentle reassurance. "We are closely monitoring her condition and employing the best medical treatments available. While there are challenges, we remain hopeful and are committed to her well-being."
“I need to see my mother,” she said, returning her attention to me. “Something tells me there is more to this.”