5. Recognizing Isabella's importance to the pack

THE NEXT MORNING

XAVIER'S POINT OF VIEW:

I paced around the pack house, trying to keep my mind occupied with thoughts of training and strategy, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake off the image of Isabella in that cave. I didn't care about her. Or at least, that's what I kept telling myself. As I turned the corner toward the training grounds, an unexpected aroma drifted through the air, something rich and savoury that made my stomach growl. Following the scent, I found myself drawn to a clearing where Liam sat on a log, a bowl cradled in his hands, thoroughly engrossed in whatever he was eating.

"What the hell is that?" I demanded, arms crossed, stepping closer with a predatory glare.

Liam looked up, momentarily startled by my sudden appearance. A smile crept onto his face as if he had been waiting for this moment.

"Oh, it's just some soup that Isabella made. She shared it with me after I found her a knife."Liam explained.

I had an unfamiliar sense of irritation bubbling within me. Why was he eating her food? The soup smelled incredible, an inviting blend of herbs and spices that made my mouth water against my will.

"You're eating her food?" I asked, my tone sharp.

"Yeah, it's really good! You should try it." He replied, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I reached out, snatched the bowl from his hands, and took a quick sip. The flavors exploded on my tongue, rich and warm. I found myself momentarily taken aback. It was delicious.

"What do you think?" Liam asked, a mixture of surprise and annoyance crossing his features.

Setting the bowl back down, I tried to maintain my composure, but it was difficult to mask my surprise.

"Not bad." I muttered, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "But it's too good for someone like her. She should be focusing on her survival, not cooking for you."

"Hey, don't be rude!" Liam shot back, leaning forward as if to reclaim his territory. "Isabella is doing her best out there. You have no idea what she's been through, and she deserves some kindness."

"Kindness?"I scoffed, unable to hide my disdain. "She is a horrible woman. Why should she get kindness now?"

"Because she's trying to survive, just like the rest of us!" Liam said, his voice rising in resentment. "You might hate her, but that doesn't mean she deserves to be treated like this. You're not being fair."

"I don't care if she's trying to survive."I said.

"She was the one who cooked for the pack, always bringing everyone together with her meals. It's why they relied on her so much. She had talent. It was before everyone started calling her a villainess." Liam explained.

"Cooked for the pack?"I asked as the realization hit me like a slap to the face.

She used to cook for them? Suddenly, I recalled the whispers I had overheard from others about her culinary skills and the way she could brighten a room with her food.

"Yeah, she was known for her cooking." Liam continued, unaware of the storm brewing in my mind. "That's why it's so surprising to see her out here alone, without anyone to support her. She used to bring everyone together with her meals. Now, she's all alone in that cave."

"What a waste." I muttered, trying to downplay the sudden interest I had in Isabella's situation. "She should have thought twice before getting herself kicked out."

"Maybe. But you don't get it, do you?" Liam shot back, frustration evident in his tone. "You don't know how hard it is for her. You're so busy hating her that you can't see what's really happening."

I opened my mouth to retort, but the words caught in my throat. I had made assumptions based on her past actions in the pack, but here she was, struggling to survive, and somehow it bothered me more than I wanted to admit. As I made my way back toward the pack house, I glanced over my shoulder, unable to resist one last look. Liam was finishing the last remnants of the soup, a satisfied grin plastered across his face.

The next morning forest was eerily quiet as I moved through the trees, my steps soundless on the damp earth. The cool night air carried the scent of burning wood and something… warm. Food. I knew exactly where it was coming from. It had become a habit at this point, watching from a distance as she stubbornly survived despite everything. A simple pot sat over the flames, steam rising from whatever she was cooking. The faint golden glow lit up her face, highlighting the sharp focus in her tired eyes as she stirred the contents. For someone who had been thrown away, she adapted quickly. Too quickly.

"She doing everything too perfectly."I muttered.

Then I felt it. A shift in the air. A presence. Charlie, my wolf, bristled. Not just us. I froze, inhaling deeply, and there it was, another scent. One that didn't belong to me, Isabella, or anyone from my pack. Someone else was here. Slowly, I turned my head, scanning the shadows beyond the clearing. At first, there was nothing but darkness, but then, a figure. A tall silhouette stood just beyond the treeline, lingering at the very edge of the fire's glow. Watching her. Charlie snarled in my head, fury rippling through me. Him. Again. Who the hell is he? Why was he watching her? My fingers curled into fists as I forced myself to stay hidden, observing. The man, whoever he was never moved, never made a sound. Just stood there. As if waiting. Charlie's rage surged through me. Mine. Ours. She is ours to watch, not his. She isn't ours, I reminded him sharply, pushing back against the possessiveness clawing at my chest. I didn't care about Isabella. Not like that.

A few pack members had made their way to Isabella's cave, drawn by the scent of her cooking. It was almost amusing, these same wolves had laughed when I kicked her out, yet here they were, practically lining up like beggars to trade whatever scraps they had for a meal. One of them, a scout named Erik, held out a bundle of fresh herbs. 

"If you give me some of that stew, you can have these. I heard you're making medicine too."He said.

Isabella sighed, stirring the pot before nodding. 

"Fine. Hand it over."She said.

She ladled a portion of the steaming broth into a wooden bowl and passed it to him. Erik grinned, taking his food and stepping back, pleased with the exchange. Another one followed. A young warrior, Mira, approached with a roll of clean cloth. 

"Bandages for some soup?"Mira asked.

Isabella nodded again, her face impassive as she served her. It was a system now. A trade. A week ago, she had been nothing in this pack. Now? Now they came to her willingly, offering supplies just for a taste of what she made. What she built with her own hands. Charlie grumbled in my head. I hated to admit it, but it was impressive. But then the air shifted again.

Beyond the gathering of pack wolves, just beyond Isabella's cave, the shadow moved closer. Him.

The same silent figure, hidden just out of reach. Only now, he wasn't just watching. He was lurking.

"He keeps getting closer every day."Charlie said.

"I know and I take care of it."I muttered.

 He was tall, broad shouldered, but lean, dressed in dark clothing that helped him blend into the forest. His posture was too still, too controlled. A predator waiting for the right moment. His head tilted slightly, eyes locked onto Isabella. And that's when I saw it the hunger. Not the kind my packmates had when they begged for food. Something else. Something worse. This wasn't curiosity anymore. This was desire. I needed find out before he hurt her.