Chapter 8
SHE'S ALL MINE
LUKE
I prowl the corridor and Lawson tells me to get a goddamn grip. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't contemplate being here, let alone going into Nia’s room.
I shouldn’t be hesitating in my own goddamn house.
But I’m here and I’ve walked the corridor outside her door so many times that varnish on the wooden floorboards is starting to dull.
With a book in my hand, a goddamn peace offering.
I’ve got no idea if Nia likes reading, but she’s got to be bored.
I stare down, catching myself hoping she finds some comfort in the horror book about a man who dared to reach too far and spends the rest of his life finding the monster he created.
My teeth grind, certain she’ll see me as the monster who needs destroying.
I told the girl she could have a day.
She’s going to be livid, not least because I went back on my word.
Nia will be confused and hurt after I abruptly left this morning, and Cole’s performance won’t have helped.
I’ll bet she thinks I sent him to interrogate her and all of her appropriate anger over what happened will be misdirected at me.
This is going to be another shitshow.
Yet again, the girl who’s a pitiful excuse for a werewolf has become a thorn in my side and I’m having to deal with her. I have to deal with the effect she’s having on everyone around her. I’ve got to face the way she makes me feel like shit and I loathe her for doing this to me.
The head doctor leaves her room and spots me in the corridor before he can lock her door. Malcolm crosses his arms, disapprovingly. Ever since she arrived, it’s the look everyone who’s met her has given me and I’m so tired of my own goddamn pack passing judgment on me.
“Are you even going to ask, Alpha?”
I grind my teeth and move closer. “I assumed you’d tell me.”
Malcolm helped my mother deliver me and he’s treated every one of my injuries, and now he straightens his spine, angry at me.
“She’s physically alright after this morning’s escapade.
It’ll take her some time to recover. Nia is not the strongest specimen I’ve treated and she needs proper care.
Decent food. Exercise. Some fresh air.” He turns back to the door, crossing his arms over his chest. “The medicines I’m giving aren’t enough, Luke.
I’ll run more tests but I’m damn sure that Cole’s right.
She’s either really sick or there’s something really wrong. ”
His sapphire eyes trace the grains of wood as they run down the door. My eyes track them too, while the silence between us hangs like an ominous void, waiting for someone to fill it.
“Is it black magic?” I ask.
Malcolm shakes his head.
I exhale so fucking loudly that he turns his head, surprised I’m this relieved.
I’m startled too, mostly because I don’t like the implications that come with knowing we stand a better chance of helping Nia.
It means I’m starting to feel something other than disdain for her, and it’s more than pity too.
It’s not right and Lawson shrinks into the shadows, letting me figure this out on my own.
“I don’t think magic’s involved, Alpha,” Malcolm says, his voice softening now I’ve shown a modicum of concern. “It’d be too damn hard to hide all traces of a spell that powerful. Whatever’s been done to her, it’s been done by werewolves alone.”
My eyes narrow and my fist almost connects with the goddamn door.
“Easy, Alpha. She’s safe. For now.” Malcolm’s hand on my shoulder is an intrusion I’m unaccustomed to and I stare at it, confused. “She needs you, Luke. Try to show her some kindness. Her physical condition is better than her mental one.”
I nod before I stop myself, realizing I’ve made a promise I don’t want to keep. The girl doesn’t deserve my compassion but Malcolm’s looking at me like he’s going to tear me apart if I put one foot wrong.
“She’s scared and she’s brave enough to hide it.
” His hand tightens on my arm. “And she’s doing it for her pack.
Nia’s only holding herself together because she thinks it keeps her pack safe.
You don’t need to know anything more about that girl, Luke.
” His fingers press into me and a sharp burst of pain is a warning.
“If you harm so much as one hair on my patient’s head, you’ll be answering to me. Am I fucking clear?”
I nod and he pulls away.
“Your words, Alpha.”
“She’s safe with me, Malcolm.”
He chuckles to himself and heads away. “She is most certainly not safe around you, Luke. Behave yourself.”
I’m left standing outside her goddamn door, wondering what to do and with no choice but to open it. My stomach tightens as it creaks and I step through the door into the room that I had furnished for a girl I cannot stand.
She’s sitting in a chair, wrapped in a tartan blanket, staring at the rain coming down. Malcolm’s pulled a sofa up against the window so Nia can watch the world go past, and she is so small in comparison that it’s possible you could miss her.
Nia looks sad. Worse, she looks lost. She’s pining for a home she’s been forced away from and I wonder if she hopes she’ll be washed away in the downpour, never to return.
“Nia?”
She doesn’t move. Her face is impassive and her affect is blunt. Her blue-grey eyes don’t even flicker and all she does is stare straight ahead, ignoring me as I move closer to her and put the book down.
I don’t like it and a ripple of annoyance breaks through me.
Goddess, I want her to pay me attention.
I want her eyes to dart to me when I walk into the room and to never look away.
I want my image burned onto her retinas and I want her so high on my scent that she can’t come down.
Nia might not be the girl I like but she’s the girl I want to be as obsessed with me as I am with her, and it irks me that she thinks so little of me that she can’t even be bothered to pay me one single moment’s notice.
I edge forward until I'm right next to Nia, staring down at her long blond hair.
It's tarnished now, swept back into a ponytail I'm tempted to pull on to make her scream.
Instead, I kneel and slide my hand onto her thigh.
She doesn't react until I squeeze her leg and then she startles as if she didn't even know I was here.
“It's okay, Nia.”
Her pale blue eyes are colored with dirt and their sparkle has faded. She stares right through me and I've never felt so small. So insignificant. So unworthy.
“This morning shouldn't have happened.”
Her eyes flicker for a moment and then their spark fades, the flash of fire unable to set the damp and dullness inside her alight. “Cole was trying to protect the pack. My pack.” I swallow. “And me.”
Nothing happens.
I press my fingers into her thighs and she jumps.
“I was saying that I'm sorry.”
Nia stares at me and I don't know what to do. I don't want to give her anything more than I have to but I can't bear her looking like this. She's a shell, barely alive and her ghostly appearance haunts me.
“Can I sit next to you?”
She shakes her head.
Fuck it, she needs to wake the hell up and if making her angry is the only way to do it then her hatred is a price I'll pay.
I sit next to her, despite her rejection.
She turns and then she stills. There’s nothing. Not one goddamn thing. Nia adjusts her blanket and for a moment the exhilaration of hope burns through me, only for the agony of despair to return when she turns to stone.
Nia’s dying in front of me. Not physically, but in every way that counts. She’s turning to stone and her soul will start to decompose soon, rotting away inside her until even the putrid fumes left behind fade to nothing.
“I won’t let this morning happen again, Nia.”
My tone is as desperate as my thoughts and I curse myself for falling into this.
I should be stronger, I should resist this.
There’s nothing good about the girl sitting next to me and I shouldn’t be trying to save her.
She’s been nothing but an inconvenience since the Elders found out about her and now she’s here, she’s even worse.
My life would be simpler without her. It would be better without her.
But I can’t bear to let her do this to herself.
My eyes dart down and fix on her hands, noticing how goddamn small they are. They’re childlike, almost porcelain. They’re delicate and refined. The hands of a doll.
Her fingers move and wrap around one wrist, and her nail scratches the inside.
I stiffen as she drags the nail over her skin, over and over, making pink whelps rise as Nia deliberately hurts herself.
She’s grounding herself, using pain to soothe the agony of whatever else it is she’s experiencing and I stare, uncertain what to do.
“Do something,” Lawson growls. “She’s going to hurt herself unless you do something.”
I’m busy wracking my brain trying to figure out what it is I’m meant to do when I’m yanked back, pulled into the ether as a dark cloud descends. Lawson’s broken through and I scream, pleading with him not to hurt her and unable to do anything more than watch.
My heart races and adrenaline pours into me as I rail against my wolf, demanding he release me as he smirks back at me. I yell and pound the barrier between us and there’s nothing I can do but watch as he leans forward, grabbing Nia’s hair and pulling her head back sharply.
He crashes his lips onto hers and I’m so livid that my anger explodes and I’m sent reeling through the air.
Her lips are soft and velvety and her tongue flops around as she squeals, taken by surprise.
Her hands pound against us and I feel every goddamn punch as she fights and thrashes, resisting everything that Lawson’s doing to her.
Nia isn’t enjoying this.
I’m not enjoying this.
Lawson, on the other hand, is thoroughly enjoying asserting his dominance and he’s not about to give it up.
“She won’t forgive us, Lawson.”
“She’ll still be alive.”