The Alpha's Exiled Mate Chapter 18

Freya’s POV

His fist connected with my stomach, the pain so intense I couldn't breathe. The next few minutes became a brutal one-sided beating. They attacked me methodically, avoiding lethal areas but causing maximum pain. I tried to protect my head and abdomen, curling into myself, but my internal organs still took serious hits.

"Don't kill her," one of them said. "Just make her understand the rules." This confirmed my suspicion—someone had ordered this.

I lay there, taking the punishment, protecting my vital areas and the inner pocket where I'd secured my phone and money. My wolf raged inside, demanding I fight back, but human rationality told me it was futile. In the Wilds, I'd learned that sometimes endurance was the only path to survival.

Finally, seemingly satisfied with the damage they'd inflicted, they stopped. The leader bent down to my ear. "This is just a warning. Next time will be worse. Leave Moon Bay, or else..." He left the threat unfinished, but it was clear enough.

After they left, I lay on the cold ground, hurting all over but conscious. My hand clutched the inner pocket of my jacket where I'd stored my money and phone. I'd managed to protect them during the beating.

I don't know how long I lay there, only feeling the night temperature gradually dropping, my wounds aching more in the cold. Eventually, I forced myself to stand, muscles screaming in protest as I staggered forward. I needed to find somewhere safe for the night.

But when I tried to take a step, a sharp internal pain nearly brought me to my knees. My organs were likely injured, more seriously than I'd thought. I needed medical help, which was almost a luxury for an exile.

With this heavy realization, I moved painfully forward, seeking a corner where I could hide until dawn. Each step was agony, but I forced myself to continue. Stopping meant giving up, and I wouldn't give up.

The night grew deeper, moonlight illuminating the Shadow District streets. Time and again, when I thought life was improving, reality cruelly reminded me: for exiles, there was no safety, no rest, only the hardship of survival and painful lessons.

But I was the last of the Riley family, and I wouldn't fall easily. As long as I had breath, I would continue searching for my family, continue fighting against fate.

---

The cool morning breeze caressed my face, waking me from a semi-conscious state. I blinked, trying to adjust to the painful daylight. I was lying in a secluded alley, my body aching from last night's beating. But I was alive, which was already a victory. My fingers moved to my inner pocket, confirming my phone was still there, undamaged.

I tried to sit up, and an immediate sharp pain shot through my abdomen, making me gasp. I carefully touched my stomach, feeling obvious swelling and tenderness. My internal organs were likely injured, beyond what I could treat myself.

My wolf instincts told me I needed medical help, but regular hospitals weren't friendly to exiles. I needed to find a place that would provide treatment without asking questions, which wasn't impossible in the Shadow District, but usually came at a price.

Taking a deep breath that made my ribs scream in protest, I slowly, painfully stood up. Every movement felt like fire burning through my insides, but I forced myself to stay alert. I dragged my injured body forward, avoiding main streets, not wanting other wolves to see my weakness.

In the Wilds, showing vulnerability meant inviting attack. Even in the city, this principle applied, especially for exiles.

I moved along alleys and back streets, heading for a deep area of the Shadow District where underground clinics were rumored to exist. I'd heard about these places in bar conversations; they weren't picky about patients' identities as long as you could pay.

After nearly an hour of difficult travel, I finally saw an unassuming sign: a moon mark on a door, indicating it was open to all wolves regardless of bloodline or status. This was my best option.

I leaned against the wall to rest a moment, staying vigilant, observing whether anyone was following me. After confirming it was safe, I slowly moved toward the clinic entrance.

Inside, I was greeted by a mixture of disinfectant and herbal scents. The waiting area was a small, modest space with a few worn chairs along the walls. An older female wolf sat behind the reception desk, her sharp eyes immediately noticing me.

"You need help," she said, not a question but a statement.

I nodded, a wave of dizziness forcing me to grip the wall for support. "I think my internal organs are injured."

She quickly stood and helped me into a small examination room. "I'm Dr. Mara," she said, assisting me onto the examination table. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I was attacked," I said simply, not offering more details.

Dr. Mara nodded understandingly, not pressing further. She expertly examined my body, her professional touch when palpating my abdomen revealing her experience.

"Stomach bleeding, mild splenic rupture," she finally announced. "Needs treatment, or it could worsen."

"How much will it cost?" I asked directly, prepared to hear a figure that might exceed my budget.

Dr. Mara studied me for a moment. "Usually, this kind of treatment would cost several thousand. But I see your situation is... special." She paused, "I can offer an alternative, using traditional herbs and limited modern techniques. No medical records. Cost can be halved."

I looked at her gratefully. "Thank you."

She began preparing the treatment, mixing various herbs and liquids. "You're an exile, aren't you?" she suddenly asked.

I stiffened slightly but didn't deny it. "Yes."

"I don't judge," she said calmly, "I just treat those who need help. But I should warn you, Moon Bay has become increasingly unfriendly to returning exiles lately."

"I've noticed," I said bitterly.

"Have you heard? The Moon Howl bar has been shut down," she continued, while beginning to clean my wounds. "Alpha Judge's orders, allegedly for illegal trading."

This news hit me like a punch to the gut. "What? When?"

"Last night. Guards raided the place."

I felt a wave of intense guilt. This was likely related to me, to Thorne seeing me perform there. I thought of Terra, who was probably jobless now because of me.

"What about the employees?" I asked, my voice tight.

"Released, as far as I know. But many of them are without work now."

I closed my eyes, feeling fatigue and guilt. Another group of people suffering because of their association with me.

The treatment continued for several hours, Dr. Mara's techniques both ancient and effective. She used traditional herbs combined with limited modern medical equipment to repair my internal damage. The process wasn't comfortable, but it was a more discreet and affordable option than a full hospital surgery.

When the treatment ended, the sun had begun to set. I pulled out a stack of bills from my pocket, about a thousand dollars, to pay for the treatment and medicines. The expense significantly reduced my funds, but compared to health, it was a necessary expenditure.

Dr. Mara gave me some herbal mixtures and simple instructions. "Rest, avoid strenuous activity, take these regularly. If the pain intensifies or fever develops, come back immediately."

I nodded in understanding, carefully standing up. The pain was still present but reduced to a manageable level.

"Thank you," I said sincerely.

Dr. Mara's expression turned serious. "Be careful, young one. This city is becoming increasingly dangerous for people like you. Consider finding a safer place, if possible."