9. Lynx
LYNX
I wait until we get outside and steer Corey to the patio out the back. We’re secluded enough here that I don’t have to lower my voice. There’s no one around who I’m worried about overhearing. “Tell me.”
Corey sighs and runs a hand over his short hair, like he’s choosing his words carefully.
I growl, impatient. I want to know what the fuck that was in there.
He winces when he meets my eyes, and I do my best to dial back my alpha side already restless under my skin. That’s not what he needs right now. “Whatever it is,” I say, gripping his shoulder, “we’ll deal with it.”
“I fucked up.” He curses softly, kicking at a stray leaf. “The blood— my blood...”
“It healed him, didn’t it?” I suspected. Hoped to fuck I was wrong though.
“Yeah.” He walks over to the railing and leans on it. “It probably took longer to kick in than it would for one of us because his own blood diluted it. I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t think...” His laugh is short and bitter. “I guess I didn’t think full stop.”
“He would’ve died otherwise.”
Corey nods. “He would.” He turns to look at me. “But maybe that would’ve been better than the mess I’ve put us in.”
“Maybe.” I refuse to examine my feelings where Morgan’s concerned. They’re... complicated. One of those unfortunate fucking times when alpha and president are not in agreement. “But like I said, we’ll deal with it. No point blaming anyone. It’s done.”
He sighs again but relaxes enough for us to work out what to do now.
“How bad is it?”
“All traces of his concussion are gone. The wounds on his thighs looked almost fully healed from what I could see. The ones on his stomach were deeper so they’ll take a little longer, but those stitches need to come out.” He pushes off the railing and looks at me. “Today, ideally.”
“Fuck’s sake.” How are we going to spin this?
“He feels better, healed,” Corey adds, like I hadn’t realised that for myself.
“Not sure he believed that bollocks about numbing pain relief either.” His smile is wry as he adds, “Wouldn’t surprise me if he ignores everything I said up there and either has a look for himself or tries to get out of bed. ”
Before I can answer, Callum rounds the side of the house. He glances between us but doesn’t ask, so I presume he’s heard enough of our conversation to know what’s going on.
He stops in front of us. “We’ve got about five minutes before the friend gets here. What’s the plan?”
Shit . That’s what we’d gone to see Morgan about before being blindsided with his accelerated healing.
“I was gonna move him to one of the rooms so it doesn’t look like we’ve got our own fucking hospital here, but the minute we get him up out of that bed, he’s going to know that something’s up with those wounds. ”
“We could tell him.” Callum doesn’t even flinch when I snarl at him. “Or not.”
“I think he already knows about us.” Corey’s eyebrows rise when Callum and I spin to face him. “Maybe not us , but shifters. You know he remembers more about that night than he’s admitting to.”
Yeah, I did.
He’d been lying when we questioned him, I could smell it. But how much does he know? How much does he remember? More importantly, how much does he believe? Doesn’t matter if he saw it with his own eyes or not. Sometimes the mind doesn’t want to accept things even when the evidence is there.
“No. We’re not telling him the truth.” They both want to argue, but we don’t have time.
Not now. “It’ll put the club, the whole pack at risk and I’m not willing to do that without consulting the others and putting it to a vote.
” As alpha I could make that decision and the whole pack would have to abide by it, but we aren’t your typical pack any longer.
If we ever have been.
“This isn’t something we can ever take back?—”
“We can always kill him if he reacts badly.” Callum says it so matter-of-factly, and he’s right.
I should be thinking that exact same thing, but I’m not. I’m struggling against the urge to lunge at him. To protect what’s mi— I close my eyes instead and reach for the control I so desperately need right now. “I’d rather not do that if I don’t have to.” My voice is rougher than I’d like.
“Lynx?” Callum’s eyes narrow when I slowly open mine to look at him. “Is that going to be a problem?”
Yes.
Fighting my instincts is never fun.
“No.”
He looks less than convinced, but we don’t have time for a debate.
“Will it be easy? No.” I meet his eyes, letting him see the resolve in mine. “But when has that ever been our thing?”
There’s a beat of silence that seems to last forever, and then he laughs and shakes his head. “Goddess help us.”
Corey clears his throat, gaze flitting between us.
I know he’s wondering what he’s missing, but I also know he won’t ask.
He’s pack but he’s not a part of the club, by choice.
And there are some things he doesn’t need or want to know about.
Not sure this falls into that category, but I’ll take it for now. “So, what do we do about Morgan?”
What do we do?
I run a hand through my hair, thinking, and send a silent prayer to the moon for inspiration to fucking strike because I’ve got nothing.
“We could just lie,” Corey offers. “Tell Morgan that his wounds are healing well and aren’t as bad as we first thought.”
“You said he’ll notice the minute he starts walking around.”
“He will, but what’s more believable? That either I’m a shit doctor or we lied to him—both of which I think he’s already thinking—or that he’s suddenly got accelerated healing?”
Well, when he puts it like that. “Fine. Do that. Then bring him outside to meet his fucking friend.”
He nods and turns to head back inside, glancing at me when I fall into step beside him.
“I’m coming with you.”
He doesn’t bother to hide his smirk, but I do my fucking best to ignore it.
Morgan’s sat up in bed when we get there.
On his fucking phone.
Who the hell left that with him? There’s no one else in the room apart from Nico in the other bed, so my glare is wasted. Whatever he’s doing on it captures all his attention and he hasn’t noticed us in the doorway.
I put a hand on Corey’s arm to stop him going any further.
This isn’t one of my better ideas, but I can’t fight it.
I need a moment to just look when he’s not scowling at me like I’m shit on the bottom of his fucking shoe or bleeding out on the forest floor.
Got to admit, the way he looked at me then was a far cry from the way he’s looked at me ever since we brought him back here.
Do you blame him?
No.
Sandy blond hair falls forward over his eyes as he stares at his phone screen. There’s still blood in his hair. The rest of him has been cleaned and bandaged, but traces of red cling to the shaved sides.
Anger ripples through me.
I can still smell the evidence of another pack, other wolves on his skin, even though it’s probably all my imagination at this point. His bruises have faded. The dark purple marks now a dirty yellow. I remember what they looked like though, and the images draw a soft growl before I can smother it.
Morgan’s head snaps up, pale blue eyes meeting mine. There’s no warmth in that glare, just an iciness that chills me to my core. Thank fuck, because my wolf needs no encouragement where he’s concerned.
I grin back at him, baring my teeth. His eyes widen and I know it’s because they’re a touch sharper than human teeth should be. “Ash’s almost here. You need to meet him outside.”
His mouth drops open like he can’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. He then gestures the length of his body. “Thought I wasn’t supposed to move ’cause of all the fucking stitches .”
I catch the twitch of Corey’s lips out the corner of my eye. I wonder if Morgan would be so quick to mouth off if he knew what I was. What he’s surrounded by.
Part of me itches to find out.
“About that,” Corey hedges, and here goes. “Your wounds have healed faster than I was expecting. The injures you sustained weren’t as severe as we first thought.” His delivery is smooth, confident, not at all like it’s something we made up five minutes ago.
I can almost read the thoughts playing through Morgan’s mind. His first instinct is not to believe us. There’s no hiding the pain he was in when he first woke up here. Corey maintains his earnest expression and I see the moment Morgan decides to take him at his word.
He trusts him.
I don’t know why that comes as such a shock, but it does, and the jealousy that flares alongside it takes me by complete surprise. So does the tingle at the tips of my fingers.
Fuck’s sake.
I have seconds to react before claws pierce through the skin.
Shoving one hand behind my back, I grip the door frame with the other. The sound of wood splintering covered up by Corey’s loud cough.
Morgan glances between us, brow furrowed, but his gaze settles back on Corey. The way his expression softens make my teeth itch. “What’s that mean then?”
“Well, your stitches may need to stay in for a bit longer to be safe, but you can get up and move around. Just do it slowly to start with.”
My phone vibrates with a text.
Cal: He’s here.
As I read it, the sounds of a car approaching reach us through the open window.
Morgan can’t hear it, but his phone lights up with a message.
I know who it’s from the second he reads it.
His body tenses, bottom lip drawn between his teeth before he looks at me this time.
No softness in his gaze when it’s directed my way.
“Ash’s here. What the fuck do I say to him? ”
“As much of the truth as possible.” I match him for coldness, even as my claws still cling to the doorframe.
“You came off your bike. We patched you up and you spent a few nights recovering. Simple.” The fact that he’s healed quicker than expected might work in our favour.
At least we don’t have to explain why he’s not at a hospital.