Battlecry

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The room remains dark, not an ounce of sunlight flood in as my eyes open slightly, just enough to notice the visitor lurking at the foot of the bed. Glancing away, I turn my cheek and burry it into my pillow, the tightness of my stitches pulling at my skin as I hold in a groan. My visitor walks around the edge of the bed, her blue eyes seeming to glow in the darkness of the room. She comes to take a seat beside me at the edge of my bed, offering me a glass of water as I shake my head slightly. "You need to stay hydrated, Leala," she begs, holding the glass out further towards me.

"I had water earlier. They had me on fluids for days anyway."

"But you need to get up sometime," Brie comments, placing the glass on my nightstand. Letting out a sigh, Brie glances to the curtains pulled shut over my windows. "Alpha River has been asking to see you. We cannot keep pushing it off - you two must meet."

I bite the inside of my cheek, my eyes watering as I can recall the feeling as I ran my fingers over my face earlier. Letting out a shaky breath, I try and collect myself, turning my head to face Brie. My glistening eyes look to my Gamma whose cuts have begun to heal well. "I cannot let him see me like this....so weak."

"You are recovering. No one expects you to be back to your best."

"I do," I reply, "I expect myself to be my best because I am leading a pack. I know you have told me no one expects me to be fully recovered, but appearing weak before those who-"

"Your anxiety is only making all of this worse," Brie insists. "You do not have to leave this house if you do not wish, but there are important matters to attend to. River is in a state of distress. He traveled all this way to speak with you, only to talk with Cedric. The two of them are at each other's throats."

Getting to her feet, Brie turns on the lamp by my side table, my eyes squeezing shut. I can hear her move about, grabbing something from my drawer as I try and just be alone. I have spent the last few days in the bed, now able to stay awake most of the day, and no longer requiring any painkillers. "Here."

A mirror is offered to me, Brie motioning for me to take it as I swallow a lump in my throat. My fingers grasp the handle of the mirror, Brie pushing it up for me to look at the woman before me. Taking in a sharp breath, I look at my bruised face, my right cheek still swollen a bit, and my smaller cuts mostly healed up. Yet the thick layer of stitches which make themselves from just under my temple all the way to my ear cause panic to settle in. The bandages over my ear only make it worse as I look to my ear, my cartilage having been ripped in two as my doctor had to make the decision to remove half of it, causing a strange shape. "You are still the same strong woman I swore to protect and serve."

I glance at Brie and then back to the mirror, my fingers reaching up to my face as they lightly run over the stitches. They are still sore, sewing my face shut as the blood which had dried upon my face left me worried that the cut was much worse. Lowering the mirror onto my lap, I look above to the ceiling as I try and collect myself. The wind outside flows at a steady rate as I focus onto the sound, trying to find something to distract myself with.

Although Oliver has found a bitter place in my heart, I can recall a short story he told me of my mother. When she was left for dead in this very house, bloodied and bruised as she was pregnant with me. It took her a recovery as well, one which caused her to be on edge for months after the attack. My mother pulled through and came out on top, leading a rebellion under her name.

"What word is there on pack traitors?"

"My men are walking on eggshells, even those I know would never betray this pack. You scared them, not just the traitors, by announcing it in public."

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