Chapter 68

Shea, Achilles, and Lucius made their way through the debris-strewn mansion, carefully stepping over fallen furniture and shattered glass. The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke and the metallic tang of blood. As they moved, Lucius barked orders to the remaining Von Lunar pack members, organizing search parties to ensure no Hawkins stragglers remained.

"We need to get you both cleaned up and treated," Lucius said, eyeing the various cuts and bruises on Shea and Achilles. "The infirmary should still be intact."

As they walked, Shea felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. The adrenaline from her first transformation and subsequent battle was wearing off, leaving her muscles aching and her mind foggy. Achilles noticed her faltering steps and wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her weight.

"You did amazingly," he murmured, his voice filled with pride and concern. "How do you feel?"

Shea managed a weak smile. "Like I've been hit by a truck. But also... alive. Powerful." She paused, trying to find the right words. "It's like I've discovered a part of myself I never knew existed."

Achilles nodded in understanding. "The first transformation is always the most intense. It'll get easier with practice."

They reached the infirmary, which had thankfully been spared from the worst of the destruction. Lucius ushered them inside, where a harried-looking pack doctor was already tending to other injured members.

As they waited for their turn, Shea leaned against Achilles, drawing comfort from his presence. Her mind raced with the implications of what had just occurred. She had transformed, fought, and survived her first real battle as a werewolf. The reality of her new life was sinking in, bringing with it a mix of exhilaration and trepidation.

Lucius paced nearby, his phone pressed to his ear as he spoke in hushed tones. From the bits of conversation Shea could overhear, it seemed he was coordinating with allies and gathering intelligence on the Hawkins pack's next moves.

Shea winced as the pack doctor cleaned a deep gash on her arm. Achilles sat beside her, his hand resting reassuringly on her knee. The infirmary bustled with activity as injured pack members were tended to, the air filled with the sharp scent of antiseptic.

Lucius finished his phone call and approached them, his face grim. "The Hawkins pack has retreated for now, but we can't assume they won't regroup and strike again. We need to move quickly."

Achilles nodded, his jaw set. "What's our next move?"

"We need to gather our allies," Lucius said. "The attack on our territory during a peace treaty will not go unnoticed by the other factions. We can use this to our advantage."

Shea listened intently, her mind racing. "Do you think the other factions will side with us?"

Lucius considered her question. "Some will. Others may see this as an opportunity to exploit the chaos. We'll need to tread carefully."

As the doctor finished bandaging Shea's arm, Achilles helped her to her feet. She swayed slightly, still adjusting to the aftermath of her transformation.

"You should rest," Achilles said softly, concern evident in his eyes.

Shea shook her head. "There's no time for that. I need to be involved in whatever comes next."

Lucius looked at her approvingly. "Your determination is admirable, Shea. But Achilles is right – you need to recover your strength. We'll need you at your best for what's to come."

Reluctantly, Shea agreed. As they left the infirmary, they encountered Marcus in the hallway. His clothes were torn and bloodstained, but he seemed relatively unharmed.

"The perimeter is secure," he reported. "No sign of any remaining Hawkins pack members."

Lucius nodded. "Good. We need to convene a meeting with the pack elders immediately. Marcus, gather everyone in the study in ten minutes."

As Marcus hurried off, Achilles turned to Shea. "I'll take you to your room to rest. I promise to fill you in on everything later."

Shea wanted to protest, but the exhaustion was overwhelming. She allowed Achilles to guide her through the damaged corridors of the mansion, her mind still reeling from the night's events.

Shea sank onto her bed, wincing as her muscles protested. Achilles hesitated in the doorway, concern etched on his face.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" he asked softly.

Shea managed a tired smile. "I'll be fine. Go to the meeting. I need you to be my eyes and ears."

Achilles nodded reluctantly. "I'll be back as soon as I can." He closed the door gently behind him.

Left alone, Shea's mind raced despite her exhaustion. The events of the night played on repeat – her transformation, the fierce battle, the rush of power coursing through her veins. It had been terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

She must have dozed off because the next thing she knew, Achilles was gently shaking her awake. His face was grim as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"What happened?" Shea asked, sitting up quickly.

Achilles ran a hand through his hair. "The pack elders are divided. Some want to strike back immediately, others think we should focus on fortifying our defenses."

"And Lucius, what does he have in mind?"

"He's pushing for a diplomatic approach. He wants to call a summit of all the factions, use the attack as leverage to expose the Hawkins pack's treachery."

Shea nodded slowly. "That sounds smart. What can I do to help?"

Achilles took her hand, his thumb tracing circles on her palm. "For now, you need to focus on recovering and honing your new abilities. We don't know when the Hawkins pack might strike again, and we need you at full strength."

"I hate feeling useless," Shea admitted.

"You're far from useless," Achilles said firmly. "You've already proven yourself more than capable. But this isn't just about physical strength – we need to understand why you're so important to them, why they're willing to risk everything to get to you."

Shea nodded, determination setting in. "Then let's figure it out as soon as possible."