Chapter 23 #2
Within seconds, Taren drags in a ragged breath so sudden and violent it jerks her whole body. Her eyes snap open, glowing a bruised shade of violet with fear, shock, and disorientation swirling together.
“You’re okay,” I whisper, and notice how hoarse my voice is.
Cade’s hands are on me immediately, solid and shaking, grounding me and threatening to crush me all at once. “You’re never doing that again,” he growls, the sound low enough to rattle the air.
The smile I give him is small, exhausted, but unmistakably defiant. We both know the answer to that is no. But I let him have his moment of alpha-panic.
“I’m okay too,” I murmur.
“You certainly didn’t sound okay,” he snaps, already trying to pull me backward, away from Taren, away from anything that might hurt me again. “We’re done here.”
I plant my feet and shake my head, refusing to let him move me. I turn my attention back to the alpha, whose breathing is slowing as the last threads of my power settle inside her. She braces an arm on the mattress, lifting herself with effort.
“I thought I was in hell,” she croaks.
“Nope,” I say gently, “but I’m sure it was close.”
I check her eyes. No oily black threads, no more Malrik rot eating through her. The air is clearer now, too, the oppressive weight of dark magic gone.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“Like I could sleep for a week,” she mutters. She squints around the room as if trying to recognize it. “How long have I been here? The last thing I remember is Cade yelling at me.”
He lifts a shoulder. “That was over two weeks ago.”
She kicks the blanket off her lower half and jumps out of bed, but the moment her feet touch the floor, she collapses. “My pack. They’re…”
“They’re as okay as they can be,” Cade says, moving to help her up. “What Rowan did, though, assured that they wouldn’t get worse. You’ll tell them that when you return.”
Taren’s gaze finds mine again, steady and clearer than before. “Thank you,” she whispers, voice trembling at the edges. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t want to attack you, but he—”
I reach across the mattress to take her hand, squeezing it gently. “You don’t need to explain. I know.”
We hold each other’s stare for a long, quiet beat until her lids start to droop under the weight of exhaustion.
“I need to get home,” she murmurs thickly. “And I hate to ask more of you, but can you arrange for that to happen for some time tomorrow? I don’t want to show up like this.”
Cade lifts her easily and settles her back into the bed. “As long as you’ll stay until we’ve had time for us to talk about the council, I’ll see that you’re returned safely.”
She nods, or tries to, but her head drops back onto the pillow before the motion is complete. Within seconds, she’s unconscious again.
I pull the blanket over her shoulders, tucking it around her like armor she desperately deserves.
One less victim for Malrik to claim. One less wound festering in the wolves. One small piece of rightness returned.
You did well, Wolf says as I give Taren a final once over.
We did well, I remind her, because I don’t know that I would have calmed down enough to do any of that without her.
Cade drags me out of the room so quickly my feet barely touch the floor. The door slams shut behind us, and before I can take a breath, my back hits the wall. His hands are everywhere—my arms, my face, my shoulders—as if he expects to find pieces of me missing.
“How badly are you hurt?” His voice is a low, feral growl, threaded with fear so raw it steals my breath.
“I’m—”
“If you say fine, I’m going to lock you underground somewhere far from here.”
Oh. He’s not just upset. Cade is shaken to his core, and it makes my stomach tighten.
I cup his face with both hands, forcing his wild gaze to meet mine. “I don’t know what happened while I was siphoning, what you saw, or what it looked like. But look at me. Right now. Not me from five minutes ago. Me. Standing here in the hallway. I’m whole. I swear it.”
“Your veins turned black, Rowan.” The words come through clenched teeth, pain sharpening every syllable. “You screamed so loud I thought…” His voice breaks, just barely. “And I couldn’t touch you. Your skin was on fire.”
Guilt hits me like a punch to the sternum. This next part is the worst, because yes, I may have improvised earlier.
“I was wrong about expelling the energy,” I admit softly, “and I think next time will be—”
“There will be no next time.” His snarl reverberates down the hall.
I tighten my grip on him, pulling him into the present with me.
“Cade, I adore how much you care, I really do. But yes, there will be a next time. This is who I’m meant to be.
There are going to be others who need help, and if I can save them, I will.
If you think you’re going to stop me, then we’re going to have much bigger problems than Malrik. ”
His jaw locks so hard I hear the click.
“I don’t like it,” he growls, voice shaking in a way that shows his vulnerability.
I brush a soft kiss against his mouth—brief but healing.
“I know, but I really believe it will get easier. I was fighting the darkness that is Malrik because I didn’t want it to hurt me, but that was wrong.
I’m certain of that now. I’m the opposite of who he is.
I don’t know what he wants from me, and I’m starting to wonder if I’m even what he expected.
More importantly, I don’t believe he can really hurt me. Not in the physical sense anyway.”
Something in him unravels at that. His arms close around me, pulling me flush against his chest, and he buries his face in my neck like he’s trying to breathe me in and anchor himself in the proof that I’m here and alive.
“I don’t ever want to let you go,” he murmurs into my skin, voice low and shaking.
I slide my arms around his shoulders and hold him just as tightly, giving him the moment he needs, letting him feel me whole and unbroken.
Though it lasts only seconds before footsteps echo down the hall, cutting through the bubble we’ve built around ourselves.
“Oh, there are the lovebirds!” Iris chirps, holding a tray of covered food. “Half the house was placing bets on when you’d surface again. Looks like Liz won—though Stephanie insisted you’d hide until spring like feral groundhogs.” She winks. “I had faith in you, though. Sort of.”
“What are you doing, Iris?” Cade asks, sounding one breath away from snapping her neck again.
“Bringing your alpha friend something to eat unless you want her to starve,” she replies matter-of-factly.
“Taren’s sleeping now,” I say gently, “but I know she’ll be ready for a full meal when she wakes.” My gaze flicks to the still-glowing door. “Can we make it so she can get out on her own?”
Iris snorts. “I don’t know, Rowan. She seemed nuttier than a peanut farm. You sure you want her wandering around? What if she sleepwalks and rearranges my spice cabinet? I’m still recovering from the last time someone touched my paprika.”
I let out a soft laugh. “I promise, she won’t be a problem.”
“Mm-hmm. Famous last words.” Iris nods toward the dishes.
“I’ll go put this away and take care of that door.
And you—” she points a dramatic finger at me “—might want to go find Marius. He’s pacing the yard like a man whose diary got read aloud at brunch.
Tortured as all get-out after all the sex betting that took place at breakfast.”
My glare cuts to Cade. “I told you that’s what they were thinking.”
He merely shrugs, clearly still tightly wound from my siphoning session.
“Come on,” I say, tugging gently on his hand. “Let’s go.”
It’s time to check on everyone else and make sure the household stops emotionally terrorizing my father.