Chapter 11: Safe for the First Time
Giselle stirred slowly, the warm scent of clean linen and something faintly woodsy wrapping around her like a balm. Pain rippled across her ribs, sharp and unforgiving, but it was a distant hum compared to the agony she’d felt before. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing a softly lit room with stone walls, wooden beams, and a flickering fireplace that cast shadows on the far side of the room.
For a moment, she panicked—was she still in the rogue camp? Did she fail? Her breath caught in her throat, heart racing until she recognized the soothing scent that lingered nearby—Rowan.
Memories of the battle crashed back into her like a tidal wave. The snarling voices, the flash of teeth, her blood soaking into the earth as she tried to protect her sister. Rowan’s warriors breaking through the trees. Rowan himself, a blur of fury and strength as he took down the rogue leader.
She was alive. Her mother and sister…?
A soft knock came at the door just before it creaked open. Giselle’s breath caught again, but it was a short woman with kind eyes and a familiar braid tucked behind her ear.
“Mama?” Giselle whispered, her voice rasping.
Her mother’s eyes welled with tears as she rushed to her bedside, falling to her knees and clutching her hand. “My baby. You’re awake. Thank the Moon Goddess.”
Her sister, Elara, peeked from behind the door a second later, cheeks streaked with tears but eyes bright with hope. She darted across the room and climbed into the bed beside Giselle, wrapping her arms around her carefully.
Giselle blinked rapidly, struggling to contain the wave of emotion crashing over her. “You’re safe…”
But Giselle didn’t feel safe.
Elara sat beside her on the bed, picking at the hem of the blanket, her usually bright eyes dim with worry. Their mother curled into a chair by the window, her thin hands tucked under the shawl draped across her bony shoulders. Though her cheeks had gained a touch of color since the escape, her breathing remained shallow and strained.
The silence in the room stretched until it became unbearable.
“What happens now?” Elara asked quietly, her voice barely louder than a breath.
Giselle’s eyes shifted to her sister. It was the same question that had been turning in her own mind ever since Rowan and his warriors had carried them out of that battlefield and into his territory.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice hoarse from disuse and uncertainty.
Her mother’s gaze, tired but sharp, met hers. “You're his mate, Giselle. That means something to wolves like these. Maybe it means we’ll be... protected.”
“Or maybe it means they’ll only accept me.” Giselle drew her knees up under the blanket, hugging them to her chest. “Because of the bond. Not because we belong here.”
“They wouldn’t have saved us if they planned to throw us out,” Elara muttered, but her tone lacked conviction.
“No,” Giselle agreed, “but saving us doesn’t mean they trust us either. Doesn’t mean they won’t keep their eyes on us, or that they won’t always see us as rogues. Threats.”
“Even you?” her mother asked gently.
Giselle looked away. “Especially me.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Elara snapped. “We were just trying to survive.”
“I know.” Giselle swallowed hard. “But in their eyes, survival outside of a pack—outside of their rules—is dangerous. I fought in their forest. I ran from their Alpha. Now I’m sleeping in his house.” She shook her head. “That doesn’t just go away.”
Her mother was quiet for a moment, then said, “Then you show them who you are.”
Giselle’s brows pinched. “And who is that, exactly? A rogue? A burden? A mate that doesn’t belong?”
“No.” Her mother’s voice was steady, stronger than it had been in weeks. “You’re the woman who fought tooth and claw to protect her family. You defied a monster. You saved your sister. And whether the mate bond opened the door or not, you walked through it. That matters.”
Giselle’s throat burned as emotion tightened in her chest.
“I don’t want Rowan to protect me because of the bond,” she whispered. “I want to be worthy of him. Of this place. I want to earn it.”
Elara reached over and took her hand, threading their fingers together. “You already are. And you’ll prove it to them.”
Silence fell again, heavy but less hopeless. Then her mother added with a tired smile, “Besides, you already bled for him. That’s got to mean something.”
Giselle laughed softly, the sound shaky. “That was mostly rage, not love.”
“But rage is love’s cousin,” her mother quipped with a wink.
For the first time since arriving in the packhouse, Giselle smiled.
Her gaze drifted to the window. The sun had started to dip behind the trees, casting long shadows across the floor. The forest loomed out there—thick, untamed. But it didn’t feel like a threat anymore. It felt like possibility.
“I need to figure out who I am here,” Giselle said slowly, more to herself than anyone else.
"You’re Rowan’s mate,” Elara said proudly.
Giselle shook her head. “That’s part of it. But not all of it.”
“Then find the rest,” her mother said. “On your terms.”
Giselle nodded, her jaw tightening with resolve.
A pause, then Elara’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Do you think they’ll let us stay?”
Giselle looked at her, really looked. Her sister’s eyes were bright with fear, her fingers trembling slightly.
“They’ll have to,” she said. “Because I’m not going anywhere. And I won’t let them take you away from me again. Either of you.”
Her mother smiled softly. “Then we’re with you. Whatever happens next.”
Giselle reached for her sister and her mother, wrapping both in her arms. The embrace was warm, strong, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to believe that maybe—just maybe—they could be okay here.
That maybe... this was the beginning of something more.
Of something real.
They stayed like that for a long while, three broken pieces trying to stitch themselves back together.
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