Chapter 17
Juliet
After days of what I’d dubbed the “wolf flu,” my muscles were useless.
I barely managed to roll onto my side on the old leather couch, groaning at the flu-like ache that seemed to tangle into the marrow of my bones.
With my legs curled under me and a soft throw pulled around me, I sank further into the soft pillow beneath my elbow.
Pearl’s soup simmered in the kitchen. Even in my exhausted haze, I could make out the distinct scent of rosemary and sage drifting through the cabin.
Light filtered softly through the windows, turning golden against the warm woods.
The low glow added a gentle haze to my already fevered state.
Pearl drifted back into the room and traded my sketchbook for a cup of coffee and warm words.
I gratefully took the mug from her and held it with both hands.
She lightly patted my knee as she gave me one of her looks of encouragement I’d grown to love so much.
“Oh, darlin’. You’re in a bad way, aren’t you?” Her voice was a quiet melody as she sat. “But that hasn’t stopped your wonderful gift has it?” She admired the sketch of the trees and the moon I’d been drawing as she set my sketchbook on the coffee table.
“I’m fine,” I murmured, more out of habit than truth. The warmth of the coffee settled into my bones. “My fingers just itch to draw more sometimes than others.”
Pearl’s hands, gentle but insistent, pulled the throw further up over my lap.
“You have a gift, sweet girl. Several of them, in fact.” She smoothed back the hair that had fallen over my eyes.
“Now, I know your shift symptoms have been kickin’ your hiney, but we’ll get some soup in you and it will help.
Got to keep your strength up for tomorrow night. ”
The mention of the full moon sent a ripple of excitement and anxiety through me, though it was buried beneath the fatigue. “I’ve felt worse,” I managed, though I couldn’t remember when. My fever left my mind a bit fogged and my limbs heavy.
“First change is always hard,” Pearl said, her hand rubbing across my bent leg. Her presence was a steady comfort in the midst of my unsteady state.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’m from New York, remember?”
She drew back slightly, her expression equal parts worry and warmth. “Now don’t you give me any lip ‘bout this. You’re not the only girl in the family who had it rough with bein’ different.”
Her words reached through the haze, echoing things we’d spoken about before but never this directly. Pearl had shared stories with me, family lore really, about women who hadn’t known they were shifters and had to face similar situations. They’d survived and thrived.
“Thank you, Pearl.” It was all I could offer.
I hated how weak my voice sounded. She kissed the top of my head like a mother to a child, a gesture so foreign it made my eyes sting.
I couldn’t remember a time when my mother had ever offered me any type of motherly gesture like this.
It wasn’t something I could hide. Pearl sensed it and asked me about my childhood. About my mother.
“My mother is a… difficult woman.” I began.
I was honest with Pearl, telling her about what it was like growing up as the daughter of Renda Bettencourt.
How there was no room for less than perfection.
It seemed like I was telling a fairytale.
The poor little rich girl who had everything that money could buy except love and acceptance from the people who should have loved her most. Pearl was such a good listener.
She let me tell my entire story all the way to where they basically sold me to Harrison, and I made my escape.
I paused as a tear fell down my cheek before I spoke again.
“Thinking about things now, I don’t know if she did the things she did because it’s how she felt, or out of fear of my father.”
“Juliet, we’re your family now.” She said it softly, but her words were steel strong. I felt a knot in my throat, too many emotions choking me at once.
My response, an attempt to voice what this meant, was lost to the roar of Bronc’s Harley as it cut through the stillness outside.
He was a storm through the door, his expression a wild mix of fear and relief when he found me on the couch. “Damn, Juliet.” The words tumbled out in a rush as he crossed the room. His leather cut was cool against my skin when he scooped me into his arms.
“Bronc—”
“You’re burnin’ up.” He touched the back of his hand to my forehead, then pulled me closer, like he thought I might disappear into a puff of smoke. “Thought you said you were fine, woman.”
It should have been a reprimand, but I heard the strain beneath his voice, the raw edge of worry. He had sensed my distress through our bond. His wolf could also feel it when something wasn’t right. I’d known that, but this was the first time I'd seen it laid bare.
Pearl’s gentle laughter cut through the tangle of our words. “Didn’t think I’d let her suffer through this alone, did ya?” She went to the dining table, settling plates and bowls with quiet certainty.
“I was ten minutes out when I got the call.” Bronc shifted me to sit up more on the couch, his eyes never leaving my face. They were the bluest things I’d ever seen. “Maddie brought you?”
Pearl nodded. “And stayed to help. You ain’t the only one cares about this girl.”
The cabin’s front door creaked, and I turned to see Maddie with the last of the dishes. Her grin was wide and teasing as she spotted us. “If it isn’t Bronc, the Overbearing.”
“Glad you came to help, but I got this.” His voice was brusque but not unkind. He set a firm hand on my shoulder, like he thought I might bolt for the door.
“Your growly ass needs more than one woman to look after it,” Maddie said. Her voice was playful, but there was a deep affection behind it.
I watched, bleary-eyed, as they bickered in a way that only siblings can. Bronc’s intense gaze cut back to me every few seconds, but when he was sure I wouldn’t vanish into thin air, he went to the table, finally settling in.
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaled hard. “Alright, then.”
Maddie joined Pearl, setting down a salad bowl with a flourish. “You can’t hover forever. She’s tougher than you think.”
He leveled a look at her but didn’t argue, the tension in his shoulders easing by a fraction.
I hadn’t moved from the couch, and maybe it was that fact as much as anything that finally convinced him I wasn’t at death’s door. Not quite. I let out a slow breath as they continued setting the table, the scene so warm and familial that I felt like an intruder in my own body.
Pearl caught my eye and gestured to the open seat. “You comin’ or not, girl?”
I pushed myself upright, glad that Bronc let me do this on my own. And despite the way my vision slightly spun, I made it to the table. Bronc had taken the chair closest to mine, a little surprised that I’d moved at all.
The clink of cutlery and the low murmur of voices filled the space. The soup, once I lifted the spoon, was hot and rich, slipping down my throat like liquid gold. It was comforting, like the warmth of the cabin and the glow of the people around me.
I couldn’t quite believe I was here, watching myself sit at this table, as if I were a character in someone else’s life.
Pearl ladled more soup with a mother’s care. “Eat up, darlin’.”
She filled Bronc’s bowl with the same insistence, and I hid a smile as he obliged, though it was clear he had one eye on me, checking that I was eating as well.
We were halfway through the meal when Bronc’s foot nudged mine under the table. “You hangin’ in there?” His voice was low, meant for me alone.
“You bet.” I felt the weight of everything all at once, my fatigue and the strange new world I’d been thrust into. I was a little anxious and grateful and dizzy with both.
He reached for my hand, giving it a squeeze that shot warmth up my arm. He leaned over and kissed my forehead. “You got this.” The words were as much promise as encouragement.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak without my voice breaking.
Pearl smiled softly at me, like she knew everything I couldn’t say. “Always a tough night for first-timers. You’ll not just make it through; you’re gonna love it.”
There were more voices then, rising and falling in the shared rhythm of an unexpected family. My family, whether or not I believed it. I felt the weight of their certainty as strong as I felt the exhaustion dragging me down.
Maddie winked at me, her laughter a light through my haze. “Yep, we’ll keep you around. I’m happy I’m not the only girl around here besides Scar.”
The minutes blurred like the light through the windows. It was too surreal to be real, yet there I was. A girl with shifter blood, facing the full moon with a pack by her side.
The light was dimmer still when the men arrived.
They came in like giants, their presence expanding to fill the cabin with something dense and unyielding.
I watched them from the dining table, where I sat like a tired ghost. Bridger was first, broad and sharp-eyed.
Eli and Jess were with him, moving through the room like shadows through smoke.
JT followed, smiling in his way that suggested everything would be alright.
When Ryder appeared, closing the door behind them all, the room felt smaller but infinitely safer.
Bronc hovered close, still vigilant even with his closest brothers surrounding us.
“Juliet.” Bridger’s voice was a low rumble, more than a greeting. It was reassurance wrapped in a single word. As Bronc’s VP, Menace was the man he trusted the most. The others echoed it in their own ways, brief nods and tight grips as they took their places.
My senses had dulled and sharpened at once. The warmth from the earlier meal lingered in my bones, battling the fever that hadn’t left. My head was clearer, enough to absorb the weight of what was happening around me.