Chapter 22 Behind The Shadows
In a hidden, shadowed location, a figure stood in silence, frustration simmering beneath the surface. She slammed her phone down after the call ended, her voice sharp with anger.
“Damn it!” The curse echoed through the dimly lit room, but the figure remained cloaked in darkness, her identity concealed.
“Who could have thought Ella was the highly sought healer?" she muttered, her voice low and indistinct filled with venom.
The figure paced, clearly unsettled, her movements deliberate, as though calculating her next steps. “I will do everything within my power to make sure she doesn’t return to the South.” She clenched their fists, resolving to stop her at all costs.
Meanwhile, in the quiet of the hospital, Ella slowly stirred, her eyelids heavy as she struggled to wake. The first sensation that hit her was the dull, throbbing ache in her limbs, a persistent reminder of the attack she’d endured. Her body was weak, and with each attempt to move, pain surged through her, making her gasp softly.
She blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings.
The hospital room was sterile, but not entirely cold. Soft, ambient light filtered in from a small window to her right, casting a faint golden glow over the pale blue walls. The ceiling was high, with clean white tiles that reflected the soft light, giving the room a spacious feeling. There was a bouquet of lilies sitting on a small side table, their petals unfurling slowly in the dim light. The sharp, antiseptic smell of the room hit her senses next, mixing with the faint floral scent from the flowers. The room had an odd combination of sterility and serenity.
To her left, a simple bedside table held a glass of water and a single monitor that beeped faintly in rhythm with her heartbeat. The beeping was almost soothing, in a way—proof that she was still alive, still breathing. An IV drip hung beside her, the clear liquid slowly feeding into her veins to aid in her recovery.
Ella tried to sit up but felt an intense pain shoot through her body. She winced, inhaling sharply. Her wolf, Lila, was eerily silent, and it sent a wave of panic through her.
Where was Lila?
The silver. She remembered now. They had used silver to weaken her, and it had dulled her connection to her wolf. She couldn’t feel Lila's comforting presence, and that hollow absence left her feeling vulnerable.
Suddenly, her memory jolted back. An attack! Her eyes flew open as the events of the previous night rushed into her mind with startling clarity. She had been ambushed, surrounded by masked figures armed with silver, and she had barely survived the assault. The question now was why. She had lived peacefully for five years, keeping her distance from pack politics. Who would want to come after her now?
Her heart clenched as another thought struck her. Moore. He had been abducted by Kevin, and she still had no idea where he was or if he was even alive. Was this all connected somehow? Her mind spun with the possibilities. Was Moore’s abduction part of some larger plan?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hushed whispers coming from behind the curtain at the far side of the room. She stilled, her body tensing despite the pain. She hadn’t noticed the figure standing there before, partially obscured by the thick curtain that divided the room.
The man’s voice was low, but Ella’s enhanced hearing caught every word clearly, despite his attempts to be discreet.
"Make sure you find out about those rogues," he said, his tone sharp and commanding. "I need every detail, and find out who sent them.”
He paused for a moment, presumably listening to whoever was on the other end of the call. His back was to her, his tall frame standing rigid near the window, the faint glow of the morning sun highlighting the tension in his posture. After a few seconds, he gave a curt reply, "Good," and ended the call.
As he slid the phone back into his pocket, he stood there for a moment, staring out the window, lost in thought. His broad shoulders were tense, as if he was wrestling with something in his mind.
Derek.
Ella exhaled softly, realizing it was him. So he had been the one to save her last night. She had thought she saw him as she slipped in and out of consciousness, but now she was sure. He had arrived just in time to fight off the attackers and rescue her.
But the question remained: Did he know about the attack beforehand? From the tone of his conversation, it seemed like he was just as much in the dark as she was. He was investigating the rogues, which meant they weren’t part of his pack, nor had he expected the attack. Ella frowned, watching him closely. Derek wasn’t the type to let anything slip through his fingers. Whoever had orchestrated this attack had gone through great lengths to keep it hidden.
"So he doesn’t know about the attack either," Ella thought, her eyes narrowing as she continued to study him. His back remained turned to her, his hands now shoved into his pockets as he stood silently by the window.
As she watched him, Ella’s mind began to churn. Whoever sent these rogues, hadn’t expected her to survive. She had been lucky—Derek’s intervention had been the only reason she was still breathing. But now, more than ever, she knew she couldn’t afford to be complacent. If someone was after her, it wasn’t just about her life anymore. Moore was still out there, and she couldn't help but wonder if his kidnapping and her attack were connected.
Ella’s lips pressed into a thin line as she lay back against the pillows, her body still too weak to move.
Whoever was behind this wanted her out of the picture.
But they were wrong.
One thing was for sure: she wouldn’t be killed easily.