Phoebe's POV
Pain.
That was my first conscious thought as awareness clawed its way back to me. Not the sharp, clean pain of a wound that could be bandaged and healed, but something deeper. Something that felt like my very soul had been hollowed out with rusty claws.
I stirred awake to find Alpha Wallace perched in the chair beside me, his weathered face etched with concern. The moment my eyes fluttered open, he was on his feet.
"My queen." His voice carried that familiar gentleness, but I caught the tremor underneath. "Thank the goddess you're awake."
The unfamiliar room swam into focus around me. Clean white walls. The scent of medicinal herbs. Sunlight filtering through gauze curtains. Nothing about this place belonged to me, yet somehow I knew I was safe.
Alpha Wallace's face seemed recognizable, but my memories felt fractured, like trying to piece together a shattered mirror while wearing gloves.
Then it hit me.
