Chapter 22 - Grayson #2
Grayson wanted to argue, but his strength was draining too quickly. He allowed Ryder and Zane to support him as they made their way back to the car. Every step was a struggle, but his mind remained fixed on one thing.
Cora.
As the car sped toward Bellefleur, Grayson clung to consciousness, though the thought of Theodore’s men anywhere near Cora was enough to drown out the pain coursing through his body.
“I’m not letting him take her,” he muttered.
Ryder glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “We won’t let that happen.”
Grayson didn’t respond. His vision darkened, and the world tilted as he finally succumbed to the pull of unconsciousness, Cora’s name the last thought on his mind.
***
The headlights from Ryder’s car cut through the darkness as they pulled into the edge of Bellefleur.
Grayson was barely holding on. His head was resting against the window as the pain from his wound threatened to drag him under again.
Ryder screeched to a stop in front of Elena’s house, and the two of them hauled Grayson out of the car.
“You didn’t have to manhandle me,” Grayson complained, though his words slurred slightly.
“You passed out twice just on the drive, Kane.”
Ryder rapped his knuckles on Elena’s door. “She’s not going to be happy about this.”
The door swung open moments later, revealing Elena with her arms crossed. Her gaze immediately dropped to Grayson’s blood-soaked side, and her expression hardened. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nice to see you too,” Grayson mumbled.
“Get him inside,” Elena snapped, stepping aside to let them through.
They half-carried him to the kitchen, setting him down on one of the sturdy wooden chairs. Elena wasted no time grabbing her supplies, slamming jars and tinctures onto the counter with enough force to make Zane flinch.
“You’re an idiot,” she griped as she worked, cutting away the bloodied fabric of his shirt to reveal the wound. “Charging into a compound with barely a plan and getting yourself torn to shreds? What were you thinking?”
Grayson winced as the cool sting of antiseptic hit his skin. “It wasn’t exactly a choice.”
“Of course, it was a choice,” Elena shot back, glaring at him. “You could’ve waited, gathered more intel, or literally done anything other than walking straight into, by the looks of it, was nothing more than Theodore’s trap.”
“We didn’t have time,” Grayson argued. “If we waited, more people would’ve been taken.”
“And what good would that have done if you’d died?” Elena countered. “You can’t protect anyone if you’re dead, Grayson. You’re not invincible.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he looked away, letting her work in silence. Ryder and Zane exchanged a look before quietly excusing themselves, leaving the two of them alone.
Elena’s hands moved with practiced precision as she stitched the gash in his side, but her frustration was palpable. “You’re too reckless. Always have been. One of these days, it’s going to get you killed.”
“That’s the job,” he said quietly, his tone as steady as he could muster. “Danger comes with the territory.”
Elena froze with her needle poised midair, and her glare could have stopped an entire pack in its tracks. “No, Grayson. That’s your excuse. There’s a difference. You have people to look after now. You can’t be so reckless all the time anymore!”
His silence only made Elena mutter under her breath, something that sounded suspiciously like “stubborn wolf” mixed with a creative curse.
After finishing the last stitch, she stepped back and wiped her hands on a rag.
“That’ll hold for now,” she said, but her voice had lost its bite.
She moved to the counter, where an assortment of herbs and vials were laid out.
She ground a handful of dried leaves into a fine powder before adding it to a bowl of thick, amber-colored liquid.
Grayson watched with mild curiosity as she murmured an incantation under her breath. The mixture began to glow, and its warmth radiated through the small room.
“Elena—” he started, but she sharply glanced at him.
“Don’t argue. This will help your body regenerate faster, even for a shifter. You’ve pushed yourself too far.”
She returned to his side, dipped her fingers into the mixture, and pressed it gently over the stitched wound.
The warmth spread instantly, soothing the ache in a way that felt more magical than medicinal.
The faint glow of the mixture lingered on his skin before it began to seep into his body, leaving behind a slight shimmer.
“Now, sit still for a few more minutes while it takes effect,” she ordered. “You’re not running off to fight another battle just yet.”
Grayson exhaled a resigned sigh but stayed where he was. Despite his reluctance, the sensation of the spell working in tandem with his natural healing abilities was impossible to ignore. The tight pull of his wound began to ease, and his muscles relaxed for the first time since the fight.
“Thanks,” he grumbled.
Elena sighed. “Just…try not to make a habit of this, okay? Some people care whether you come back in one piece.”
Grayson gave a faint nod, though the weight of her words lingered long after she’d walked out of the room. He leaned back in the chair and let out a slow breath as he tried to piece himself together.
The sound of the front door opening and closing reached him moments before Cora’s voice called out. “Elena? Are you—” She froze in the doorway to the kitchen, and her eyes widened to the size of saucers as they landed on him. “Grayson?”
“Hey,” he said, trying for a casual tone that didn’t quite land.
She was at his side in an instant, her hands hovering near his bandaged side but not quite touching. “What happened? You’re—You’re hurt.”
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he assured her. “Elena patched me up. I’ll be fine.”
“Fine?” she repeated, her voice rising. “You’re bleeding through your bandages, and you want me to believe you’re fine?”
Grayson shifted under her gaze. “It’s part of the job, Cora. You know that.”
She let out a curt laugh. “That’s your answer? That this is just…normal?”
“It is,” he insisted. “We knew what we were walking into, and we got out. That’s what matters.”
“What matters is that you came back alive? Do you even realize how close you came to—” She cut herself off, pressing a hand to her mouth as her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
“Cora…”
“I can’t do this,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t keep watching you throw yourself into danger like this and pretend it doesn’t terrify me.”
“I don’t have a choice. This is who I am. It’s what I do.”
“And what about me?” she demanded. “What about what I feel every time you leave, not knowing if you’ll come back?”
He didn’t have an answer for that. He hadn’t let himself think about it—about what it might mean for her to care about him in a way that went beyond the bond.
“I can’t lose you, Grayson,” she stated. “Not now. Not when…”
Her words trailed off, but the implication was clear. Grayson reached for her without thinking, taking her hand in his. “Cora, I—”
“Don’t,” she whispered, shaking her head again. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”
He cupped her face gently, brushing her cheek with his thumb as he met her eyes. “I have never said anything to you that I didn’t mean.”
Her breath hitched, and for a moment, neither of them moved.
Then she leaped forward, wrapping her arms around him in a fierce embrace that made him forget the pain in his side.
He held her just as tightly, resting his chin on the top of her head as he whispered, “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
She pulled back just enough to look at him. “You can’t make that promise.”
“I can try. And I’ll keep trying for as long as it takes.”
The tension between them seemed to melt away, replaced by something quieter but no less intense. Grayson leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.
Cora rested her head against his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt as if letting go would make him disappear. “Just…be careful. Please.”
“I will,” he promised, his voice barely above a whisper.
And at that moment, with her in his arms and the world outside temporarily forgotten, Grayson knew he’d do whatever it took to keep that promise. For her. For them. For the future he hadn’t let himself believe he could have—until now.