Chapter 30 — Ethan #2
“He’ll be okay.” Akila places a hand on Branson’s shoulder.
Branson doesn’t respond. He glances at Rhiannon before heading toward the exit without a word. The way he moves reminds me of someone carrying the world on their shoulders, like he’s already given up.
That’s weird. Why isn’t he staying? What does Rhiannon know?
“Double the guard rotation,” Xander orders. “No one goes near him without my direct permission. Understood?”
“Yes, Alpha,” Rhiannon and Akila respond in unison.
“And Commander, see me in my office once you’ve secured everything here. I need a full report on what happened before I arrived.”
“Yes, My Lord.”
Finally, Xander’s gaze sweeps over me, lingering for a moment before he nods once and strides out of the dungeon. Even without Lycan instincts, the Alpha’s approval hits me square in the chest. Warmth spreads through me despite the pain.
Conan scrubs the back of his neck. “Well, that was fun.”
“Fun?” Akila shoots him a look that could melt steel. “You nearly got your head ripped off.”
“Nearly being the key word.” He gives a half-hearted grin. “Thanks to our human friend here.”
The attention shifts to me, and suddenly I’m acutely aware of how I must look, covered in dust and blood, clutching a bent iron torch bracket like it’s Excalibur.
“That was incredibly stupid,” Rhiannon says.
I brace myself for the lecture, but when I meet her eyes, there’s no anger there. Just a look of lingering shock that tightens my chest.
Her voice softens. “You could’ve died.”
I push myself upright, ignoring the ache spreading through my ribs. “You could’ve, too.”
Our eyes meet. The dungeon falls away. I see gratitude there, yes, but also a flicker of...admiration, maybe. Respect. Confidence. The things I’ve been craving from her since the night everything between us changed.
My words stall, impossible to say here in front of the others. I want to tell her, I’d do it again. I’d do anything for you.
Conan slaps me hard on the back, nearly knocking me off balance. “You saved us! Look at you, showing us that you’re more than just the Truth Seer.”
“Don’t encourage him.” Akila smiles. “Though, I’ll admit, using an old torch sconce as a weapon was clever. That’s got to be a first.”
Pride surges through me, warm and unexpected, as we make our way toward the exit.
I did it.
For once, I didn’t freeze. I wasn’t a liability. I wasn’t the one everyone had to protect. I made a difference.
“See you later, hero,” Conan calls after us, settling into position outside the cell with a mock salute.
I manage a weak wave as Rhiannon, Akila, and I climb the stone steps out of the dungeon. Each step sends fresh pain radiating through my ribs, but I don’t care. The ache feels like proof that I contributed something meaningful.
The cool evening air washes over my face as we emerge into the courtyard. I breathe it in deeply, despite the sharp protest from my chest. The familiar scent of pine and earth grounds me, pulling me back from the adrenaline crash threatening at the edges.
Rhiannon’s voice cuts through the quiet night. “That was reckless.”
I glance sideways at her. “You already made that clear.”
“It bears repeating.” She’s tense, but doesn’t look angry. If anything, she looks conflicted.
Akila glances at Rhiannon and then back at me with sharp brown eyes, a slow smile spreading across her face. “You’ve sure got guts, human. I’ll give you that.”
The word human doesn’t sting the way it usually does when people here say it. It sounds almost laudatory.
Rhiannon’s eyes sweep over me, cataloging the damage: the blood at the corner of my mouth, the way I favor my left side, the tremor in my hands I can’t suppress.
She steps closer, and before I can back away, her hand presses against my ribs through my torn shirt. She’s checking for breaks, I think, but the second her palm makes contact, everything in me comes alive.
My heart is still pounding from leftover adrenaline, but the rhythmic pulse underneath her fingers finds the exact same tempo as mine, like two drums beating to the same song. It’s the same inexplicable sensation I felt earlier.
Her hand tightens against my ribs, and she goes completely still.
Her gaze locks onto mine with something between shock and recognition.
She feels it too. She has to. The way her wolf flickers gold in her pupils tells me she’s hearing my heartbeat match hers, beat for beat, rattling her just as much as it’s rattling me.
For three endless seconds, we just stare at each other.
The courtyard, Akila, the pain in my chest, it all fades.
There’s just this impossible rhythm binding us together, this certainty that we’re connected in a way that goes beyond attraction or camaraderie or whatever the hell we’ve been dancing around.
I open my mouth, to ask if she—
She jerks her hand back like I’ve burned her, breaking eye contact so fast it makes my head spin.
Her voice comes out steadier than it should, full of Commander-like efficiency. “You need to see Olcan.”
But I catch the slight waver underneath. Whatever just happened between us isn’t normal, and she knows it.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“Barely.” I straighten, despite the protest from my ribs. “I’ve been through worse.”
That’s not entirely true, but I’ll be damned if I let her see me as weak now. Not after this. I’ve proven to myself that being human doesn’t mean being powerless. Every nerve in my body is alive.