Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
My monitor stopped hours ago. It probably didn’t help I ripped off every rubber patch from my body in my sleep.
When I opened my eyes, sunlight spilled across the blanket draped over my legs.
A clipboard rested beside the hospital computer; my discharge papers clipped neatly to the front.
Someone had already done the hard part. Nyx sat wide awake across from me, watching the door quietly just as he promised.
Eventually, I asked him to go check on Cici.
I grabbed the clipboard as soon as the heel of his boots disappeared around the corner and signed my name without reading half of it.
Five minutes later I was walking through the parking lot garage in Nyx’s clothes with my duffel slung over one shoulder.
He had brought it with extra clothes and the keys to Wayne.
The driver’s seat of my Mustang welcomed me like an old friend.
The engine rumbled to life beneath my hands, the vibration sending an ache into my sore bones.
Home wasn’t headquarters. Home was waiting in the mountains.
The highway narrows until asphalt surrenders to gravel.
Towering lodgepole pines swallow the road, their branches weaving together overhead like they’re protecting something sacred.
Snow lightly clings to the highest peak, while a blanket of morning mist hovers over the lake tucked against the mountainside.
Miss Onida’s cabin comes into view exactly where it always has.
A wide porch overlooks the water connecting to timeworn logs.
A stone chimney with a lazy ribbon of smoke curls into the pale Wyoming sky above.
The place never tries to impress anyone, it simply belongs.
Just like she does. I pull to a stop and cut the engine.
My bare feet crunch against the gravel as I step out, breathing in the forest air.
Gentle waves lap against the rocky shoreline ahead while somewhere deep in the woods, a raven calls to another.
The screen door creaks open and Miss Onida steps onto the porch first, wrapped in a hand-knit brown shawl draped over a simple earth-toned dress.
Leather boots peek from beneath the hem, worn smoothly by years of mountain trails.
A faded satchel hangs at her hip, as natural on her as the silver braid resting over one shoulder.
She smiles, lacing her fingers together at her waist. Movement stirs behind her, along with the forest. Everything seems to pause as Kova emerges from the doorway with slow, deliberate steps.
Her head hangs low; ears angled forward as golden eyes lock onto me.
Every muscle in her body remains taut as the wolf studies me from the porch.
Kova’s nose twitches slightly as she takes in my scent.
There’s no telling what’s rolling off of me.
Maybe blood. Hospital disinfectant. Her nostrils flare as she takes one cautious step forward, her eyes softening.
A quiet whine escapes her throat. “Hey, pretty girl,” I call, my own voice catching.
That’s all it takes. Kova explodes off the porch.
“Kova—”
The rest of my sentence disappears beneath eighty pounds of gray fur. She slams into my chest hard enough to steal what little air my ribs still have to offer. My feet skid across the gravel before I lose the fight completely, landing flat on my back with a grunt. “Oof.” But the wolf doesn’t care.
Kova folds herself over me like she’s trying to crawl into my skin, all elbows, paws, and thick gray fur.
Her tail pounds against the ground while frantic whines spill from her chest. She nudges beneath my chin, pressing her muzzle into my neck, as if making sure every piece of me is still attached.
“Easy,” I laugh, wincing as another paw lands squarely on my bruised ribs. “Easy, Kova.”
She ignores me entirely.
A warm laugh carries from the porch. “Her blood sings for you, Atsi Waya,” Miss Onida chirps, watching the wolf all but smother me.
I bury my face against the thick ruff around Kova’s neck, breathing pine, earth, and the familiar scent of home. “I missed you too.”
Miss Onida looks between us. “Come inside. The tea is already warm.”
Kova seems to understand her as she nudges under my arm, helping me to my feet. I brush the gravel from my pants and scratch behind her ears. “You knew I was coming?” I ask, peering up to the ravens now perched on her roof.
Miss Onida smiles as she turns toward the cabin. “No.” She pauses just long enough to glance over her shoulder. “Your wolf did.”
Four Months Later
Cici’s door is already open when I push it the rest of the way with my shoulder, a stack of folded clothes balanced in my arms. Her room looks like her, welcoming, full…
and a little chaotic. But the good kind.
The bed is too big for the space, layered in blush sheets and a ridiculous number of pillows, half of them faux fur, half embroidered with patterns that don’t match but somehow work anyway.
Matt is already curled carefully on top of the comforter beside her, pressed protectively against her side like he’s decided his job is guard duty.
Soft gold lamps cast a low light across dark-paneled walls, the kind that makes the whole room feel quieter than the rest of headquarters.
There are crystals on the nightstand, stacked books, a half-finished mug that probably used to be tea, and framed photos.
Us, mostly. Old high school bathroom mirror pictures, football games.
Ellie and Todd at Ghost Town on the sky lift.
Missions. Campfires. One of Nina mid-laugh, one of Bear holding a wolf pup as if it might explode.
I set the clothes down and begin putting her belongings away in her dresser. The drawers are organized in a way only she understands, sweaters folded next to electronic cords, socks beside flash drives.
“You’re rearranging my chaos,” Cici mumbles.
“I’m containing it,” I counter.
She smiles faintly, eyes still tired.
A knock sounds and the door opens without waiting. Bear steps in first, Nina sliding in beside him carrying a bag. “I brought food, but it’s hospital approved which means it tastes like regret,” she mumbles.
Matt lifts his head but doesn’t budge.
Bear points. “Good boy.”
Nina sets the bag on the bedside table before pulling out the plastic containers one by one. “Soup, crackers, applesauce. The cafeteria insisted this is chicken.” Nina shivers as she sets the final container out. “I remain unconvinced.”
A quiet laugh slips from Cici. “It’s okay.”
Nina frowns. “I can go pick something else up, just say the word.”
I finish loading another drawer and lean against it. Cici rolls over slowly and sighs, picking up the pamphlet from her nightstand. “It’s not the food. I’m going to miss the Moon Ball.”
There’s real disappointment there. “No appetite because of a dance?” I ask warily.
Cici opens the pamphlet and turns it toward me. “It’s not just a dance! It’s pure elegance. They honor different units of T.A.L.O.N, you get to meet everyone, hear the mission stories, and celebrate the people who make this place what it is.”
Bear opens his mouth and immediately shuts it as Nina jerks her head toward him. “There’s always next year my friend. You need to rest. Doctor’s orders,” she says gently.
“But this year was supposed to be our first appearance, the new Greyline Unit,” Cici mumbles.
Matt takes her hand, removing the pamphlet. “We understand you babe, but think about it, you can have a whole year to plan for the next one. You’ll be healed and better than ever.”
Cici sniffles as a small glimmer returns to her eyes at the thought of it.
“Well, if you’re not going then I certainly can’t go,” I state.
Four heads turn toward me. “Absolutely not,” Nina scoffs.
Bear gestures dramatically. “Do not make my social debut a solo act. I already promised everyone a mysterious lady of the night.”
“You’ll survive,” I mumble, closing the final drawer.
“No,” he says gravely. “I will perish socially. They’ll talk about it for years. ‘Remember the hot agent abandoned at the moon ball?’”
Cici looks at me, poking her lip out in a pout. “You promised you’d go.”
I fold my arms. “Plans change. Nina can go with you,” I snap to Bear. Nina shivers, stepping away from him.
He jerks his thumb at her. “You want me to take Rinaldi after I told people my date could probably take down a mountain lion?”
Nina smirks. “He said that very proudly.”
“I heard it,” Matt pipes up. “You have to go.”
Cici nods beside him. “Please? For me?”
I groan, tossing my head back. “I don’t even have anything to wear.”
Nina perks up instantly. “I’m going sleek and sexy, but simple. The sort of thing people apologize to me in.” She examines herself in the long mirror, sliding her hands down the dip of her waist.
Bear nods. “I’m going borrowed suit and pure confidence.”
I shake my head. “I’m not wearing a dress.”
“You absolutely are,” Nina declares, smiling as her gaze flickers toward Cici.
I toss my hands, walking slowly away from the dresser. “I have no idea what I’d even choose.”
Cici’s eyes brighten slightly for the first time since we brought her home. “I think,” she says carefully, “I might have something in mind for you.”
This, this is not me. Or is it? I turn in the mirror, not recognizing the woman in the reflection. The dress hangs from my shoulders in a question I don’t know how to answer.
It dips low at my chest, the neckline gentle but a tad exposing, as if it assumes I’m not afraid of being seen.
Gray fabric spills down my body in soft, unfamiliar waves, clinging in places I’ve spent most of my life trying to armor.
The fitted bodice hugs my curves before narrowing dramatically at the waist, where delicate lace embroidery climbs over the seams like frost creeping across stone.
The endless ripples cascade to the floor, creating an illusion of storm clouds rolling down.
Neither silver or charcoal, the color hovers somewhere perfectly between moonlight and ash.
I keep expecting it to feel wrong, too tight, too fragile, but instead it feels…
careful. As if it’s holding me rather than wearing me.
I quickly exchange my golden nose ring for a diamond stud, matching the subtle glittery earrings dangling from my ears.
Turning again, I smooth my hands down the skirt, fingers trembling, half convinced this version of me will disappear if I look away.
I’ve never worn anything like this. I can’t even believe Cici bought this, I mean there’s no telling how much it cost.
“Miss Onida is right. I can hear your thoughts from in here!” she calls from my bed. Cici lies propped against my pillows, wrapped in fresh bandages My chest tightens. She bought it believing I’d make it this far. Believing I deserved something soft.
Kova lies curled at my feet, her gray fur barely touching the end of the dress. She’s content there, only moving if I dare step two feet away from her.
It’s hard to feel beautiful. I feel exposed and unarmed. It’s like I’ve stepped out of my skin and forgotten to bring my teeth with me. But when I glance at Cici, broken and breathing—stubbornly alive, I realize something quiet and terrifying:
Maybe this dress isn’t asking me to be someone else. Maybe it’s asking me to stop hiding. So, I do just that, stepping into the bathroom frame.
“Florence Belcher.”
Cici goes quiet, her eyes tracking me delicately. For a second I think she might tease me but instead, her throat works. “Well,” she murmurs, voice rougher than it has any right to be. “Shit.”
“Language,” I scold, and folding my arms instinctively. Kova is already at my side again, squeezing herself between the fabric and the frame. “That bad?”
Cici shakes her head immediately, wincing as the movement pulls at her bandages around her abdomen. “No. Don’t.” She stops me with a look, eyes bright and unguarded. “Florence.”
I freeze, extracting my nails from my palms.
Cici exhales gently. “I bought that dress because I knew you’d hate it,” she admits, a faint smile tugging at her mouth. “And because you deserve to be seen without all the knives for once. This is you. A flame that survived the aftermath of a storm.”
I frown, and she lifts a hand, already pushing through my doubt. She gestures dramatically into the air. “Not the bright kind,” she continues. “Not the flashy, ‘look at me’ kind. You’re an ashy flame. Smoky.”
I tilt my head, confused. Her eyes flick back to the dress. “The kind people think is dying,” she breathes softly. “Right up until it burns them anyway.
My pulse kicks hard. Matt doesn’t announce himself as he enters the room, just quietly slips in with an iced coffee in hand. He leans over, planting a kiss to Cici’s forehead and plops down on the bed beside her. “You got soot in your veins, Flossie. Smoke in your lungs,” he chimes in.
“Yeah. The dress doesn’t soften you, it reveals you,” she finishes, taking a large gulp from the green straw.
I wrap my arms tightly around my waist, rocking back and forth on the tall black heels. “If you don’t stop, you’re going to ruin this makeup of yours.”
She waves her free hand frantically. “Okay! Okay! Go get em’, my little ember.”
I wiggle my fingers beneath my chin, rolling my eyes. Matt chuckles as Cici returns the gesture before giving me a thumbs-up.
“And you sure you’re okay with her?” I ask, glancing down at Kova.
“Of course.” Cici says, pulling out a bag of treats from beneath the pillow. “We’ll be just fine.”
I bend down, smoothing my hands over Kova’s ears. “You be good to her,” I warn. “That’s my best friend in there.” Kova blinks once before her eyes dart to the bag of treats waiting in Cici’s hand. I laugh, releasing her head. The wolf darts to the bedside, sliding her paws onto the mattress.
“Okay,” I exhale, then slip out of the room.
Bear waits on the couch in his rented tuxedo, nose deep in his phone. How he found a suit to fit his body without ripping at the shoulders is beyond me.
He glances up before looking back down, suddenly pausing and dropping the device between his knees.
His eyes bulge as he juts his chin back up.
“My b-brain just evacuated the premises,” he stutters, jolting from the couch.
“I knew you were gonna look good but not this good. I didn’t emotionally prepare for this. ”
I bunch my gown, walking over to swat him. “Pull it together juggernaut, you have promises to keep.”