The Archer And Her Wolf

Chapter 3 Thea

"Archer! You're hurt." The buff guard, Thomas, ran up to me.

"Is the boy okay?" I ignored him, looking back towards the produce stand. The boy was gone.

"Yes, he's being taken to his father. You need to go to the infirmary." He insisted.

"That's alright. I'm fine." I shrugged, whipping the blood from my leg.

"The dagger was silver." Thomas said, like it matters.

"I'm not a werewolf." I stated. Thomas' eyes widened.

"Even more reason to go to the hospital!" He cried.

"I'm an Archer, we heal quickly." I scoffed.

"I have to insist, Archer. Alpha will have my head if I let the woman who saved his son's life go away harmed. He wants to thank you himself. You're a Royal Archer, we have an obligation to see to your wellbeing." Thomas rambled. I sighed dramatically, knowing damn well he wasn't going to stop until I agreed. He would probably follow me around like a puppy until then.

"Fine, fine." I grumbled.

"Good! Our pack is Valor Moon, it's just a few miles from here. It's the closest to the camp." Thomas explained and I groaned.

Valor Moon was one of the largest packs on the east coast, third only to Blood Moon and Crescent Moon, and the oldest with the longest Alpha bloodline in the entire country. The pack I was raised in was only two hours from Valor Moon and the Alpha families have been friends for decades. I knew all about them and their pretentious nature.

They were compassionate and kind, but also arrogant and the furthest thing from humble as you could get. What other packs had in brutality, Valor Moon made up for with their riches and endless favors they were owed by other packs. I had never been myself, but I guess that was about to change.

I followed Thomas to his car and proceeded to pout the entire drive to Valor Moon. It was only about 30 minutes away, but it felt like forever. Like most rich packs, Valor Moon was over the top and grand. There was an enormous front gate with a watch tower on either side and ten wolves patrolling it. The driveway on the other side was surrounded by ancient oak trees on either side and at least 5 miles long. We pulled in front of a literal castle, which I could only assume was their packhouse.

The castle was made of some sort of dark stone with gothic architecture. It looked like it was straight out of a storybook from medieval times. It had huge stone steps that led to a ridiculous set of arched wooden doors with iron detailing. Judging by the windows and balconies, I guessed the castle was 6 or maybe even 7 stories high. There was definitely a dungeon in this place, I had no doubt.

"Right this way, Archer." Thomas opened the car door for me and motioned towards the side of the castle.

I followed him as he led us away from the front door. Alongside the castle was a smaller version of the entrance with a wooden sign that read: Infirmary.

"The hospital has its own entrance." Thomas explained.

"Of course it does." I muttered to myself. Thomas opened the door and I walked inside.

I walked right into a monotone waiting room with white tiled floor, plaid chairs, generic tables, and a glass receptionist window. It looked like any other hospital waiting room. The second Thomas closed the door behind him, the door on the other side of the waiting room burst open and a woman in a lab coat scurried out.

"Archer! Right this way!" She nearly shrieked at me. I flinched at her volume but followed after her, "Oh! It's your leg. Do you need a wheelchair?" She looked at the gnarly wound on my thigh, reaching for a wheelchair.