Chapter 42: Healing in the Aftermath

The clearing was still, the sounds of the battle slowly fading into the distance. Jerome held onto Ian, her body trembling as the weight of everything that had happened finally hit her. The scent of blood was thick in the air, and the sight of fallen wolves littered the ground, but all Jerome could focus on was Ian's ragged breathing.

His fur was matted with blood, and the wounds on his body looked deep. She could feel the tension in his muscles, the exhaustion that radiated from him. Despite his injuries, Ian remained upright, his gaze still alert as he scanned the clearing for any remaining threats.

But the fight was over. Kieran was dead, and his wolves had either fled or fallen.

"You need help," Jerome said, her voice shaky as she looked at the blood seeping from Ian's side. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his fur. "We need to get you back to the packhouse."

Ian's breath came out in a low growl, not of aggression, but pain. His body swayed slightly, and Jerome's heart clenched. He had pushed himself too far, and now his body was paying the price.

"I'm fine," he muttered, his voice gruff but strained. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, the Alpha facade faltered, revealing the vulnerability he tried so hard to hide. "But you shouldn't have been here, Jerome. It's too dangerous."

Jerome shook her head, her hands tightening around his arm. "I couldn't just sit there while you fought him alone," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. "I was so scared, Ian. I thought I'd lose you."

Ian's gaze softened, and he reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "You'll never lose me," he said quietly. "I'll always fight for you."

His words sent a warmth through her, but they didn't ease the fear that still gripped her heart. She knew how dangerous this world was, how easily things could have gone the other way. Kieran's taunting words still echoed in her mind—She's your weakness, Ian.

Jerome swallowed hard, pushing the thought aside. Now wasn't the time to dwell on it.

"We need to go," she said, her voice steadier now. "You're hurt, and the pack needs you."

Ian nodded, though his movements were sluggish. He leaned on Jerome for support as they made their way back toward the packhouse, his weight heavy against her as he limped beside her. Every step he took sent a wave of pain through his body, but he remained silent, his focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

The walk felt endless, the night stretching on as they made their slow journey back to safety. Jerome's mind was racing with everything that had happened—the fight, Ian's near defeat, the things Kieran had said. She couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning, that there was more danger ahead.

When they finally reached the packhouse, Kael was waiting at the entrance, his eyes scanning the horizon as if he expected another attack. His expression softened slightly when he saw them approaching, but concern filled his gaze as he took in Ian's injuries.

"He needs medical attention," Kael said, stepping forward to help support Ian. His tone was calm but firm, and Jerome was grateful for his steady presence. Together, they guided Ian inside, where the pack's healer, an older wolf named Lia, was already waiting.

Lia's eyes widened when she saw the extent of Ian's wounds, but she didn't hesitate. She immediately set to work, her hands moving swiftly as she cleaned and bandaged the injuries. Jerome stood by Ian's side, her heart heavy as she watched him wince with each touch.

"You're lucky," Lia muttered under her breath, her eyes flicking to Ian. "A few inches deeper, and that last blow could have been fatal."

Ian didn't respond, his jaw clenched as Lia continued her work. But Jerome saw the exhaustion in his eyes, the way his body slumped against the chair as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him.

"I'll be fine," he said finally, his voice low and rough. "Just make sure the pack is safe."

Lia gave a short nod, though her expression remained stern. "The pack is safe for now, but you need to rest, Alpha. If you push yourself too hard, you'll end up worse off."

Ian grunted in response, clearly not thrilled with the idea of rest, but Jerome knew he didn't have a choice. His body was battered, and if he didn't take the time to heal, he wouldn't be able to protect the pack when the next threat came.

"I'll stay with him," Jerome said softly, her hand resting on Ian's arm. "I'll make sure he gets the rest he needs."

Lia glanced at her, then nodded before turning to leave. "Make sure he listens, Jerome," she said over her shoulder. "He's stubborn, but he needs to heal."

When the door closed behind her, the room fell into a tense silence. Ian's breathing was shallow, and Jerome could feel the exhaustion radiating from him.

"You don't have to stay," Ian said quietly, his voice rough with fatigue. "I don't want you to see me like this."

Jerome shook her head, her fingers brushing lightly over his bandaged wounds. "I'm not going anywhere," she whispered. "You're my Alpha, Ian. I'm staying with you."

For the first time that night, Ian's expression softened completely, and he let out a long, tired sigh. "Jerome…" he murmured, his voice trailing off as his eyes drifted shut.

Jerome stayed by his side, her heart aching as she watched him finally give in to sleep. The battle was over, but the war wasn't. There were still so many threats looming on the horizon, so many dangers waiting for them in the darkness.

But for now, they had each other.

To be continued...