#Chapter 77: Gifts from the Moon Goddess

Chris The medic tended to my wounds—or at least, whatever minor wounds were left—as the orange light of the fire flickered in the fireplace. Here, finally having returned to the Packhouse, I felt like I could breathe. The Elders, watching from the sidelines, shifted uncomfortably where they stood. “Well?” Elise asked. “Is our Alpha going to be alright?” The nurse pulled back with a bewildered shake of her head, her fingers running along the spot where a knife had been plunged up to the hilt just a few hours ago. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” she murmured. “The wound is completely healed, save for a scar. By all accounts, he should be dead—or at the very least, still bleeding out.” Elder Degas let out a soft snort. “I’ve seen it before.” “You have?” Ava asked, cocking her head to the side. The wizened old Elder leaned on his cane and nodded. “I have. Many, many years ago… a moondeer healed a schoolyard friend of mine who had broken his arm falling out o