11 - Ginny
A t this point, one would think waking up from a blackout wouldn’t faze me anymore. And yet, my body felt riddled with anxiety as I smelled the (unfortunately) too-familiar hospital smell. Two male voices were talking, and I woke up to one of them saying, “She needs more time, David,” to which the male, who I presumed was David, responded: “Quiet, she’s awake”.
I opened my eyes since there was no use in pretending anymore, and observed the two of them for a moment. One was very clearly a doctor (the white coat gave it away), he was tall and blond, with kind brown eyes. He seemed serene and I immediately got the feeling that his patients trusted him.
The other one, dark-haired and blue-eyed, looked constricted and uncomfortable in the expensive-looking suit that had to have been tailor-made since I couldn’t imagine any store that would carry clothes that would be able to envelop his gigantic frame. I got the vibe he would rather be wearing something more practical that he could chop wood or hunt in, as he exuded the nervous energy of a caged animal.
Something about his face felt familiar, and I suddenly remembered that he was the male who was there after I had killed Henry. Oh, God. My hand shot to my mouth. I killed my mate. I felt my heart race faster and faster as it became increasingly harder to breathe.
Both males rushed to my bedside while I stared at my hands, which still felt red and sticky from my mate’s blood, and I started hyperventilating. Oh God, oh God, I killed him. The larger male tried to calm me down and, just like he did in the aftermath of my crime, he soothingly ran his hands over my upper arms while cooing: “It’s okay, look at me, just breathe with me, okay,” and soon I remembered how to.
He was gazing into my eyes intently as if trying to memorize something about them when I felt a needle prick my arm, and I was out again. I dreamed of a large, soft, white wolf cuddling me, and I felt warm and safe for the first time in months.
“Hello, Ms. Giles, the nurse told me you woke up,” the doctor said as soon as he entered my room. I set down the cup I was drinking from and nodded.
“Yeah, hi. Could you please tell me where I am and what is happening?”
“Let’s start from the beginning – I am Doctor Dylan Matthews, and you are currently at the Royal Pack Hospital in Colorado.”
I processed the information briefly, and it made sense – I was brought here to be tried for my crime. Doctor Matthews continued:
“The first time you woke up, you were very agitated by memories of recent events and we had to sedate you since you were experiencing a pretty severe panic attack.”
“What did you give me?” I asked apprehensively. “Please don’t give me poppy seed,” I pleaded quietly, my eyes filling with tears.
“Don’t worry!” He was quick to reassure me. “We used a chamomile and valerian root tincture. It is standard procedure for criminal trials to do a series of tests on the defendant, and your body showed signs of prolonged wolfsbane ingestion, whereas your nails and hair showed traces of poppy seed, meaning you had major exposure or addiction to it at some point in the recent months.”
I just nodded and said: “Thank you.”
“Unfortunately, you'll have to endure the wolfsbane a bit longer,” he added sympathetically and I looked at him with horror. “I can’t even imagine how awful it must feel, but this is also standard procedure for trials. Since you're so weak physically right now, I will prescribe the lowest dose possible and I will speak to the King about expediting your trial as much as he can.”
“I really appreciate it,” I said and I meant it. This male did not treat me like a criminal, and I let myself enjoy the feeling for a moment because I knew that soon I would be tried as one.
“Unless you have any more questions, Ms. Giles, I will leave you to rest, freshen up, or whatever you feel like doing,” he concluded with a friendly smile.
“Could you please address me as Ms. Haines or Regina?”
“Of course, Ms. Haines,” he smiled and almost bared his neck to me before turning it into a weird little bow of the head and then he left. I was no longer a Luna, both he and I would do well to remember that.
After finishing my tea, I decided to take a shower – someone had already scrubbed me clean, but I still felt grimy and sticky and dirty; the feeling never really went away after the dungeon, and now with what I had done, I doubted I’d ever feel clean again. I stopped in front of the mirror to look at the she-wolf I was now – sallow complexion, a protruding collarbone, and a faint, almost invisible mark on my neck. It would soon be gone completely, and the thought filled my body with unexpected, heavy grief.
Tears started pricking my eyes and nose, and I let them fall as I took off the hospital gown and stepped under the hot water. I cried because the second half of my soul was dead – in that very moment, it didn’t matter what had happened between us in the last year, or how he met his demise; what mattered was the sparkle in his eyes back when I first met him, the love and tenderness I’d experienced when he took my virginity, and all the dreams that a young, naive, love-struck Ginny had. Dreams that were now dead, as dead as my mate, rotting away somewhere in the ground. Sobs shook me so hard that my still-tender ribs began to ache.
I had once loved Henry with every fiber of my soul. I longed to go back to that time, to never have experienced all the horrors of the last months. I longed for Dotty to be alive, for my mark to be intact, for me to still be the proud, happy mate of Alpha Henry Giles, who loved curling up next to him and enjoying what she believed was her forever.
I didn’t want to be this hollow husk of a wolf, with my pale face and sloppily chopped-off hair, a she-wolf who had seen others die and had dealt death to those who once used to be her whole world. It was too much loss and too much pain, and for the first time in the last year, I really let myself feel all of it.
For once in this whole ordeal, I was glad my wolf was dormant. I’d heard many a horror story of how shifters were affected by their mate dying – I couldn’t even imagine what mate murder would do to one. I didn’t want her to die or go crazy from the pain. Maybe this short, wolfsbane-induced reprieve would actually do her some good.
When I left the bathroom after what felt like an hour, there was some loungewear on my bed, all of it in different shades of blue – leggings, joggers, Henleys, t-shirts. This hospital was clearly much better off than the one back home (what was my home now? – I decided to shelve that thought for a while for my own sanity), but then again, this was the Rocky Mountain pack, more commonly known as the Royal Pack, the strongest and largest pack in the country.
Contrary to the pack’s name and their ruler’s title, it was not a real monarchy. Having a King was simply (and ironically) a democratic choice of all packs in order to streamline administrative matters and conflict resolution by allowing the Alpha of the strongest and largest pack to be called King and to preside over territory, power, and mating disputes, as well as the occasional issue we encountered with humans.
I’d met the late King, Phillip Bell, quite a few times during various summits and functions I’d attended with Henry; he was a just and kind male. I remembered Lucy informing me of his death and telling me that his oldest son had taken over. Him I’d never met, since he was always away, either training abroad or commanding their armies during military campaigns in various packs.
I then wondered how Lucy and the pups were doing, what she thought about what I had done – was she appalled? Disappointed? Angry? Henry had been our Alpha, after all, and the entire pack was affected by my actions. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the thought. I had long ago given up on being their Luna, but it was still in my nature to be a pack animal – neglecting the duties that I had foolishly imposed on myself was one thing, but willingly inflicting harm on my pack mates was another.
The next day, doctor Matthews came to my room, once again accompanied by the dark-haired male, who, this time, was not wearing his suit-cage but an olive green T-shirt and black jeans. He looked much more comfortable and at ease. Seeing him relaxed, so tall and wide, unrestrained, he looked like a warrior if there ever was one. I wondered if that was his function in the pack, if he was here as some sort of guard assigned to me.
“Hello, Ms. Haines,” the doctor smiled and the other man raised an eyebrow at the address. He must have read “Giles” in my file.
“Hello, doctor Matthews. And hello - ” I looked awkwardly at the stranger whose name I didn’t know yet. He cleared his throat before saying, in a resonant voice, “David.”
“Hello, David.”
He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath before turning to the doctor and asking:
“So, what’s the situation?”
“Well,” the good doctor looked up from the chart he was holding, “Due to her physical and mental state, I strongly advise against putting her in the dungeons,” here David growled lowly, maybe in disapproval? Maybe he thought I belonged in the dungeons and I couldn't blame him.
The doctor quickly continued: “I also recommend expediting the trial as much as possible since she shouldn’t be exposed to the wolfsbane a moment longer than absolutely necessary. She'll be discharged tomorrow afternoon, I hope you will have her accommodations ready by then?”
After David nodded, the doctor excused himself to go and check on other patients, and as soon as he left, David approached my bed in long strides.
“How are you feeling?” He asked in that voice of his.
“Better, I guess,” I shrugged, feeling a weird camaraderie with the male. He saw me in the aftermath of committing a murder, it felt like he knew everything there was to know about me.
“I’m glad,” he said softly. “Do you need anything?”
“No, thank you. The hospital has provided clothes and toiletries, and I guess wherever you take me tomorrow will be fine as well.”
He looked amused at that. “I’m glad you like the hospital.”
“Well, as far as hospitals are concerned, this is one of the nicer ones I’ve been to,” I smiled and suddenly wondered how I could be smiling and talking about meaningless things when I had my mate’s blood on my hands. David noticed the change in my expression immediately, and he got up.
“Don’t think too hard,” he said. “Everything will be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”
I took a deep breath with my eyes closed.
“Okay,” I whispered.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ms. Haines.”
“Please, call me Regina.”
“Alright. Regina,” he said slowly, as if trying the name out. “Goodbye.”
But I didn't see him the next day. Instead, two female guards in uniform picked me up from the hospital and drove me to the palace. It was a majestic, imposing building, very tasteful and welcoming despite its size. I’d visited several times in my past life, and it never failed to charm me. I wondered why they were taking me there. Perhaps I would have an audience with the King first. They led me through a series of corridors, none of which I remembered from before since, during my visits as Luna, we’d used a completely different entrance, and we only ever saw the inside of conference rooms and ballrooms. They announced my arrival to a butler, who then opened a set of double doors for me and ushered me into a room that could have been both a library and an office.
There, looking out the window, stood David, who I immediately realized was the King. He was in a suit again, paired with a crisp white shirt and a forest green tie.
“Your Highness,” I started to curtsy like I was taught to in Luna lessons, but he laughed, and the sound was like dark molasses dripping from a spoon, thick and rich.
“Please, Regina, continue calling me David. And don't curtsy or bare your neck to me.”
“But -”
“I hate titles. I’m sure you can relate somewhat,” he fixed me with a knowing stare and it was true. I’d often told people to drop the “Luna“ and call me Ginny, so I acquiesced.
“Very well, David, hello.”
“Hi,” he grinned, taking me by surprise by how mischievous and boyish he looked doing it. “Welcome to my home. You will be staying in one of the guest rooms here. The two guards that accompanied you will stay with you whenever you’re outside of your room and will remain posted at your door while you’re in it. You’re free to roam the palace and the grounds to your heart’s content. If you need anything, let them know.”
I felt like I had stumbled into a parallel universe. Why was the King being so nice to me? I was a murderer, brought here to be tried. I mean, I wasn’t going to complain and get myself sent to the dungeons on principle, but it felt surreal to be chatting about “roaming the gardens” like I was a fancy lady in one of the human romance novels I used to enjoy so much.
“Did you set a date for the trial?” I asked, pulling us back into reality and I could tell he didn’t like it.
“In three days, most likely. We need to wait for all the Alphas to arrive, I think they should all make it by then.”
I exhaled noisily, my shoulders falling a bit. Then I straightened them.
“Okay. Three days.”
“You just let me know if you need anything, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks, David.”
“You’re very welcome,” he smiled warmly.
After my audience with the King, the guards showed me to my room, which was at the opposite end of the palace. It was a lovely guest bedroom with a queen-sized bed, a vanity table with a beautiful ornate mirror, a wardrobe, and an ensuite bathroom that had both a shower and a tub. The walls were painted a beautiful powder blue, with little clouds all over them. For a moment, I was tempted to pretend I was staying here on pack business instead of awaiting trial. However, despite my being painfully aware of what awaited me, I was not anxious. Quite the opposite, actually.
I eagerly snooped around my temporary home, discovering a bottle of my preferred shampoo as well as my usual skincare products in the bathroom cabinets. Whoever was in charge of guests, a housekeeper, or an administrative assistant maybe, must have contacted Calum, who then spoke to Lucy about what I might need. They really went all out for the criminals they hosted. For a moment, I thought about sharing that thought with Dotty, just to be stabbed in the heart with the realization that she was gone.
The wardrobe had a few nice dresses and blouse-pants combos in it, along with pajamas and undergarments, all with the tags still attached, all in my size, and a lot of them in different shades of blue.
I was starting to sense a theme here. It wasn’t a color I wore often but I didn’t mind it, especially since someone went through all this trouble, even procuring several accessories and a watch for me to wear. So this was how the other half lived. I remembered making a big fuss over guests who came to stay in our pack, but the furthest I'd go was maybe a complimentary bathrobe or some Appalachian milk soap. This was a whole other ballgame.
My guards (whose names I learned were Laura and Kelly) soon brought in a female who greeted me cheerily, “Hello, Ms. Haines. My name is Maria, and I’ve been asked to come fix up your hair for the trial.”
From her smile, you’d think the trial was a beauty pageant that I had a shot at winning. Luckily, she didn’t ask what had happened to my hair. I remembered the braid in Henry’s drawer and I shuddered.
“Are you sure it can be fixed?” I grimaced while running my hands through what was left of it.
“Don’t you worry,” she reassured me. “I’ve seen and fixed much worse.”
Maria reminded me of the hairdresser I used to go to in my parents’ pack – she was perfectly suited for her job since she had a calming, engaging presence. She talked a lot without being annoying, and knew what questions to ask and what things were best left alone. And most importantly, she was an absolute genius at cutting hair since I couldn’t help but gasp as she showed me the end result of her work, a cute pixie cut that looked 100% intentional.
“I love it. Thank you, Maria!” I couldn’t look away from the mirror. It was a seemingly small and insignificant thing, but the haircut helped me take a step towards the old me, away from this broken me.
“I need to pay you, let me -”
“Don’t worry, Ms. Haines, it’s all taken care of,” she winked at me, and I felt relieved because I had absolutely no money and no documents on me. I wondered how I would get to my stuff and whether I’d even need it if I was found guilty at my trial. After closing the door when Maria left, I stopped in my tracks.
The room, the clothes, the haircut, it all lulled me into considering a future where I was free and acquitted. But I did kill Henry, I was guilty of murder. Oh, God. Breathing was starting to get difficult again as the truth once again hit me hard. I had killed my mate. I had murdered him, as awful as he was, I was worse.
I quickly showered to get rid of all the tiny hair bits from my haircut, as well as to calm down. I then changed into one of the buttery soft pajama sets. I needed to think less and sleep more, I told myself, and eventually, the exhaustion won.
That night, I dreamed I was in Spruce Mountain again, but everything was tinged gray and looked spooky. I walked the empty streets, trying to get home as soon as possible since something was giving me the creeps. When I arrived at the crossroads by the fountain, where I needed to take a left, someone grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. It was a dead, rotting Dorothy. She looked like she had crawled out of her grave. Her voice was distorted and it hurt my ears as she said: “You don’t deserve happiness, you murderer, you killed me and your mate, you deserve to burn in hell!”
I cried: “No, Dorothy, please, listen to me,” but she just kept burning me with something that felt like silver, and I screamed and thrashed until I felt something wet on my face and I woke up to find a huge white wolf on my bed, nudging me with its snout.
I sat up on the bed, my heart racing. I turned on the lamp and drank some water from the bottle I kept next to the bed.
“Thank you for waking me up,” I told the wolf, figuring it was either Laura or Kelly. The wolf nuzzled my neck, pushing me back down, and I laughed.
“Okay, okay, I’m going back to sleep. Sorry for waking you.”
The wolf huffed and left the room. I was grateful for its quiet presence and I quickly fell back asleep.