Not long after Blake had dashed out of the ward without explanation, the entire hospital exploded into a hive of frantic activity.

Nurses ran past Hannah's doorway carrying armfuls of medical supplies. Porters wheeled equipment from one ward to another, and even the warriors got stuck in; carrying an entire bed out of her ward and down the corridor towards the consultation room.

Presiding over all the frantic activity stood Doc at the nurses station - as stoic as always - calmly directing people to their different stations and effectively organising the chaos to his advantage.

Hannah sat cross legged on her bed watching it all, trying desperately to quell the knot of worry in her gut. The only clue as to what was going on came from a busy porter rushing past, excitedly talking to a nurse by his side. She heard the word ‘rogue’ amongst the chatter and surmised that there must have been another attack.

As the injured began trickling into the hospital, a large brown wolf with blood across its shoulder poked its curious head into her ward and growled at her.

It was immediately yanked back by the scruff of its neck by Issac who was flying by in the opposite direction. He managed to shoot her an apologetic look before the ward door was quietly but firmly closed and the solid oak cut off her line of sight.

She turned her head towards the glass – the only thing separating her from the vast forest beyond – naively expecting to see some evidence of the fierce battle raging outside. Craning her neck, she scanned the landscape, desperate for even the tiniest bit of information. But the trees remained silent. Deceptively calm, forest did its best to lull her into a false sense of peaceful serenity. Nothing to see here... She threw herself back against the bed in disgust. The rogues must be attacking from the other side of the territory.

Her attention returned to the corridor. For the next couple hours, the only connection she had beyond her doors were the voices that drifted back through to her periodically. Snatches of conversations amidst the bustle outside.

“Put him in this ward...”

“Not that one! Use the linen bandages...”

“ ...straight to theatre...”

“Goddess, she's heavier than she looks...”

“...just stab it in, stop being a big baby!”

At one point, a loud exclamation from Issac: “What the hell's he doing in here? Rogues to the dungeons - Doc'll get to them when he's got time...”

It was quickly apparent, even to an outsider like Hannah, that this attack was much larger than the last one. A steady stream of casualties seemed to pass by her ward that evening – by the sounds of it, most with minor injuries that meant they could leave as soon as they'd been examined.

Once, in a fit of exasperation, she heard a voice that was clearly Jenni’s, yell:

“Oh, for Goddess sake! It's just a scratch - stop wasting my time, you idiot!” followed by a deep growl and a sharp yelp.

Hannah could only hope that it had come from the patient and not her friend. She knew it was essential that she kept out of the way but it was incredibly frustrating to sit alone under the dim lights of the ward, trapped in her own thoughts and betrayed by her overactive imagination.

She found herself fretting about Blake's safety. Irrational but relentless, her imagination took over. She worried that he was injured and unable to return to the safety of the pack. That every casualty carried past her ward was him - one of the patients out in the corridor being rushed into theatre. Her ears strained as she listened for the sound of his voice.

She couldn’t fathom why. She barely knew him - wasn't even sure she fully trusted him - but he was a lifeline in her darkness, and she was painfully aware that the pack's welcoming attitude depended almost entirely on him. If something were to happen to him...

After what seemed like a lifetime of worry but, in reality, couldn't have been more than a few short hours - it was over. The corridors grew silent, the sense of frantic activity ceased and, just as she was growing twitchy, Jenni slipped through the doors to find her - tired but unharmed.

“That's the last of them,” she sighed, flopping into the chair opposite her. A long thin cut ran down one side of her neck, rapidly healing. “No fatalities, thank the Goddess. Couple of serious injuries - one nasty-looking bite but... all in all, could have been worse.” She caught the look Hannah was giving her and chuckled.

“Don't worry, it's not always like this." She began to stretch out her aching arms, "But we're well prepared for attacks like these." One of her elbows cracked loudly as she pulled at her wrist. "A good plan and regular training as my father always says.” She stretched luxuriously and leaned back to rest her head against the back of the chair. “Goddess, I'm tired.”

Where's Blake? Hannah worried.

“Most of the warriors are still out at the border rooting out any stragglers and strengthening the lines,” Jenni said in answer to Hannah’s unspoken question. “The Alpha's ok, not a scratch on him according to the pack-link. But he's beyond furious.”

The relief in her voice was obvious. Seeing Jenni relax into the chair, Hannah felt the tension drain from her shoulders. The small nurse clearly had no further concerns for her Alpha, reassuring Hannah that it was okay to breathe her own, silent sigh of relief – the idea that he might have been hurt filled her with an unexplained dread.

“Why are they attacking?” she asked anxiously.

“Who knows?” Jenni answered, her voice filled with exhaustion. “They penetrated quite deep this time. Hit the furthermost village. Luckily most of the casualties were warriors, not villagers." She scratched at the cut on her neck. "I wouldn't worry, the Alpha's are already on it.”

The Alpha's? Plural? Hannah's confusion must have shown on her face.

“Alpha Asher is visiting – Alpha Blake’s brother," Jenni added. “Between the two of them they’ll get some answers in the morning...” She stifled a yawn and glanced around the empty ward. “Speaking of morning, I'm going to get some sleep. Issac and Amara are around somewhere. But their father was among the wounded, so they might be out-of-sight most of the night.” She cast a critical eye over her patient. “Are you ok?”

Hannah was fine, and she reassured Jenni that she would continue to be fine until the morning.

“Go and get some rest,” she insisted.

Jenni didn't need any further persuasion.

Alone in her ward once more, Hannah drew the curtains around her bed like a comfort blanket, and buried herself deep within her covers. Slowly drifting off to sleep, she reflected that life amongst wolves was decidedly never dull, and wondered: how different must her own life have been, before she came here?

***

The attack - when it came - was sudden and completely unexpected.

Hannah had woken up from another broken nightmare; the edges fading away before she could remember any of the details and had lain in the dark, breathing softly, trying to calm her heart down.

Usually the wards remained at a steady temperature - like all hospitals they seemed to believe that an overheated patient was better than a cold one. But tonight, she felt a cool draft wafting up from under the curtain that surrounded her bed and shivered, realising that something was out of place.

Swinging her legs around, she carefully placed her still-healing feet on the cool floor and stood up, peering around the curtain for the source of the cold air.

Everything seemed normal.

Then, she spotted the curtain closest to the glass wall move in the slight breeze. She realised that one of the panels was open, leaving the room exposed to the night air. She assumed one of the nurses must have overheated when she came round to check on her and opened it for some fresh air.

Wincing at the pain in her feet, she walked slowly around the bed. Teeth clenched, she headed towards the open corridor to find Issac. She'd never be able to close it again by herself, it was far too heavy.

He wasn't there. No one was there. The corridor was completely deserted, except for several discarded pieces of medical equipment that had obviously been abandoned in a rush by the staff.

"Hel- hello?" she called out nervously, unsure why she felt a sudden surge of unease. Walking slowly down the corridor towards the next ward she clung to the wall for support, each step reminding her that she was supposed to be on bed rest until her feet had healed properly.

As she passed the nurse's station opposite the second ward, something caught her eye and she relaxed slightly. The ward sister that worked the night shift was fast asleep at her desk, head laid on a pile of paperwork, obviously taking advantage of there being so few patients to watch over.

Hannah was loathed to disturb her, especially when the nurses were still nervous around her - waking a sleeping werewolf was dangerous at the best of times.

She glanced into the second ward, but all was quiet here as well. The ward’s only patient was missing, and there was evidence of a flurry of activity around the bed that suggested he'd been whisked off in a hurry. It probably explained the missing nurses.

She contemplated walking further up towards Ward Three, but her feet protested any further exertion, and she reluctantly turned back towards the comfort of her own bed. A flicker of movement caught the corner of her eye.

"There you are." The voice was guttural, full of malice and directed at her.

She froze.

Two men stood menacingly in the corridor staring at her, a grin plastered over the face of the smaller of the pair. A third appeared from the doorway of an examination room with patchy, pockmarked skin and a vacant expression behind his eyes. He flashed his companions an evil smile as he too spotted her.

The smaller man, dressed head to toe in black and carrying a wicked-looking blade, gestured to them to wait where they were and began to stalk towards her.

She instinctively stumbled backwards away from the station, rivulets of pain hampering her retreat. Her eyes darted over to the sleeping nurse at the same time as he also registered her presence, and she cried out hoarsely:

"Help me!"

The nurse stirred, but the man in black was quicker than she thought possible. Dashing across the corridor, he jumped over the desk and slammed the hilt of his blade into the back of her neck before she could even react. With a small exhalation, the nurse slumped further forward and slid to the ground. He looked up at her again, his eyes glinting.

"Naughty, naughty," he growled, a wicked smile plastered across his face.

"What- what do you want?" she whimpered, flinching internally at how pathetic she sounded.

His smile fell and he looked at her quizzically: "You. Of course."

Knowing she could do nothing to deflect his blade when it fell, she closed her eyes and waited for him to swing.

"Hannah!" Issac appeared at the end of the corridor, Amara at his heels. He looked utterly furious to see the three rogues in the middle of his pack and charged straight for them with a menacing growl.

Amara's eyes glazed for a second and then she followed her brother - her own blade flashing in the artificial light.

The man in black sighed in irritation and turned to help his companions, but not before flashing her a grin over his shoulder: "Stay there, I'll be right back."

As Amara engaged one of the intruders, Issac used the scattered equipment to his advantage and started throwing random items at the larger of the two as he ran.

Dodging a plastic chair as it flew past him, the man in black looked merely amused as he joined in the fray and suddenly; Issac found himself outnumbered.

He and Amara fought with all their strength against the three rogues, but they were abnormally strong. The man in black was smaller than either of the others, yet his blows were as strong as theirs, and his companions held their own in the narrow corridor, successfully preventing either of the warriors from breaking through to reach Hannah.

It soon became clear to Hannah that they weren't winning. Both of them were already badly battered. Issac had a vivid bruise across one cheek and the top of his right arm was bloody where claws had torn though the flesh. Amara had suffered a deep cut to the collarbone.

Rents and tears covered their clothes.

Blocked in in such tight quarters, hampered by the piles of medical equipment, and unable to shift - their opponents had been able to hit them at will. Hannah could only watch in horror as they fought for their lives.

Nodding to one another, the two warriors began to split up to gain some space to work - Amara leapt forward in a surge of strength, flashing claws one way and blade the other. Her flurry forced the two weaker rogues back towards the open ward. Issac began to fall back, moving away from Hannah, luring the man in black with him, hoping he would be easier to handle alone.

Over in the ward's doorway Amara was dancing with both opponents at once, her long hair flying as she darted between them, taunting them both.

“Come on then! Lets see you beat the girl who can fight back!” She shoved one of them through the open doorway and he fell awkwardly against an abandoned ECG machine. She swung round and threw herself at her other attacker who reeled back away from the force of her attack.

“What's wrong?” she hissed. “Surely a big brave warrior like you can do better than this?” Losing his balance, he stumbled to his knees and that was all the opening she needed to land the blow to his head that finished him.

"Look out!" screamed Hannah as she saw the second rogue come up behind her, claws extended.

Amara turned to take him on, and they disappeared together into the ward.

Issac meanwhile had no time for insults as he danced, his claws hammering for his opponent’s skull. The man in black was defter however; he twisted his right hand and the claws caught Issac’s blow, turning it away from his head. Then he brought his blade around and swung into Issac’s side. The warrior hit the floor, doubled over and clutching at the wound.

The man turned towards Hannah. Now she could see his face properly. His eyes shone black, his nose was curved like a hatchet, and his teeth were bared in a feral grin. He stalked towards her, blade raised.

"Hannah, move!" Amara called urgently. Reappearing in the corridor, her blade dripping with fresh new blood and a look of absolute fury on her face, she launched herself at his back.

Hannah knew she should take the opportunity to try and run, or find some way to help. But she couldn't move. Trapped against the wall, the soles of her feet screaming from overuse - she could only watch as the man in black swung around to meet Amara's assault, a look of irritation crossing his features.

He was good... too good.

Out-matched, Amara eventually had to fall back in an effort to fend him off and seek out an opening. The man in black followed at once, hacking at her with his claws from one side, then the other – using his blade to fend off her attempts to pierce his defences. She was going to lose.

Where the hell are the other warriors?

Hannah knew they would have been called immediately through the pack link, but the corridor remained empty. No help arrived. She looked around frantically for something she could use as a weapon, but all she saw was the medicine cabinet, smashed open in the scuffle, the contents falling out across the floor.

She scrambled to her knees and began searching through the packets and bottles desperately.

Where is it? Where is it?

Finding what she was looking for, her trembling fingers struggled with the complicated knots sealing the fabric pouch, one eye following Amara's fight all the while. Finally, they loosened and she was able to pull it open, tipping the delicate powder into her hand.

Abruptly, the remaining rogue jumped away from his fight with Amara and headed back towards Issac who was only just managing to pull himself up from the floor.

"No!" Amara tried to catch him before he could swing his blade down and finish him off - Hannah froze and gaped at them in horror. For the first time, Amara had made a mistake.

Desperation had made her careless and she had no defences when he grinned and deliberately changed the direction of his stroke at the last second. The flat of his blade hit her on the side of her face, leaving a deep cut and levelling her completely.

"Now," the man said in a predatory voice, "let us end this."

He turned towards Hannah once again and reached out his hand to grab her arm. With no time to think it through, she reacted instinctively, pulling away from his grasp and flinging the handful of powder into his face.

The man gave a roar of pain and recoiled, dropping his blade and scratching at his eyes with his hands. Then he snarled a curse.

Behind them, Issac heaved himself along the wall and shot a look at his stricken sister, his eyes darkening even more. He headed towards the rogue. "Now I've got you," Issac grunted, in sharp pain and ready for murder. "You bastard!"

Hannah’s attacker froze. If he could have seen Issac, he would have known that there was nothing to worry about. Issac was barely able to pull himself along the wall one step at a time.

But the man couldn't see properly, he couldn’t even open his eyes. He hesitated momentarily while he listened to the sounds Issac made - pin-pointing his position - then he whirled away from them both back into Hannah’s' ward and somehow found his way to the glass door. A second later, he was gone.

Groaning, Issac nudged his sister's unconscious body. "Amara, stay with her. I'm going after him - can't let him get away." He stumbled into the ward and Hannah heard the tell-tale cracks of a body tearing itself apart. Then, there was nothing but silence.

Hannah stared about her, too stunned to think clearly. They had come here to kill her - and the siblings had almost died trying to defend her.

Hi guys! I hope you enjoyed the chapter? Hannah's not having the easiest time of it, is she? Why do you think the rogues want her so badly? Don't forget to vote if you're enjoying it!