Chapter 5
Aurora
She saw the back of Nessa’s house through the trees.
Oh, thank God.
She pushed through the pain, the intense fatigue and the wooziness of her mind. She had a regal form of a Bengal tiger that was destroyed by her pink tongue lolling out of her mouth like a dog. Alphas were supposed to maintain their composure at all costs. Right now, she was failing miserably.
Instead of going around, she cut through the little hole in the hedge that became a lot bigger. She’d just have to make it up to Nessa by volunteering her time to help garden. She didn’t have the energy to go around.
She’d probably have to make it up to Sebastian, too.
This whole area was crowded with wards and magic and other things she didn’t understand and couldn’t see.
Jessie had tried to make them move into Ivy House for their own protection, but he’d talked her into letting him jam the place full of magic.
Given the basajaunak roamed these woods and kept tabs on things, Jessie had relented.
That was before Momar had devised a way to hide his people from the basajaunak. Aurora assumed another discussion about it was just around the corner.
She trotted in a zigzag across the grass. The back door was always locked unless Nessa was in the garden or sunbathing on the grass. Unfortunately, Nessa was doing neither of those things.
Aurora bumped against the wall along the side of the house, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. Add that to the list of things she’d have to remedy.
More zigzags along the little path beside the potted plants led her to the gate in the wooden fence. She stared up at the metal clasp securing it for a moment before looking straight ahead at the wood. She had to shift.
She’d been dreading this.
Taking a deep breath, she regained her human form and then fell forward against the wood.
Metal clanked as the latch held against her weight.
She straightened up, nearly cried as she lifted her hand to release the latch, and then nearly cried again when she remembered she had to pull instead of push.
Tomorrow she’d look back on this and call herself a weakling. A baby. A whiner. She’d forget how much her muscles screamed, how utterly depleted she was, and make light of the stinging, throbbing, aching wounds all over her bruised body. She’d get up, and she’d do it all over again.
She didn’t bother shutting the gate behind her. Maybe the earth would tilt on its axis and do it for her.
Around the front corner of the house, her knee released too early and she slammed against the wood. Her other knee gave up entirely and she spilled onto the hard concrete.
“Jesus, Aurora.”
She recognized that voice. Damn. Of all the people to see her like this—not able to hold her own or maintain her decorum. Why the hell was he here?
“I just tripped, it’s nothing,” she mumbled.
She pushed up to her knees when a large, strong hand wrapped around her upper arm. Sue paused, and she could feel the barest of movement in his fingers, so subtle it was almost lost in her fatigue.
Exhaustion prevented her from being just as subtle and from refusing his help.
He hauled her straight up, not touching any other part of her body.
It was out of respect, she knew, offering her the opportunity to regain her feet without accepting too much help.
It was one of those times when she wished she weren’t an alpha, or even a shifter, maybe.
Able to just call it like it was—she was drained and everything hurt like hell. She didn’t have the drive to go on.
Then again, if she weren’t a shifter, she’d be tired and in pain for a lot longer.
“Susan, how are you?” she said dryly, always somehow caught at her worst by this alpha-turned-beta. “Enjoying your day?”
His fingers slacked but didn’t release her.
“I’m good, thanks,” she said, because there was no way he’d read it in her body language. Her mind was telling her body to do things, but it ignored her. Instead, her hips shimmied, her legs trembled, and her upper body pitched the opposite way.
He released his hold. She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and straightened, fighting to control her limbs and torso.
“What’s up?” she said. Gritting her teeth, she turned to face him, hiding as much of the pain and weariness as she could.
Concern shimmered in his dark eyes, echoed throughout his body.
“I’m fine,” she said, wishing he’d just tell her what he wanted so she could go in and crash onto the floor. “What’s up?”
His breath through his nostrils was a little too forced. The flaring within his arms a little too prominent. He was frustrated and pissed.
“You don’t have to play tough with me, Aurora.”
His movements, fast and strong, made her flinch. He flung her arms over his shoulders as he leaned in. His arms came around and he scooped her up, his hold loose and mostly professional, a beta carrying his subordinate. Or maybe a beta carrying his alpha’s niece.
“Honestly, Susan, I am—”
His irritation increased.
She sighed.
If he insisted, she wouldn’t bother complaining. Instead, she focused on not dropping her head to his shoulder and passing out. He was a lot more comfortable and warmer than lying on the floor on her face. Though she’d still probably end up there anyway.
“Keys?”
“It’s a blood offering to the ward. Any part of me will do.”
He bent so as not to jostle her and reached for the handle from under her legs, continuing to support her weight. The door swung open and he carried her through before jerking to a stop on the threshold.
“Just on the tarp in the middle of the living room will be fine.” She snapped her eyes opened, not even realizing they’d drifted closed as he’d walked. Her vision swam.
He huffed in annoyance. His foot crinkled the material.
“Will you shift?” he asked.
“Yeah. A nap will help me heal. Actually, while you’re here, can you do me a favor and set an alarm? We have that dinner tonight with Aljoe’s sisters.”
“You’re not going to be fit for anything until tomorrow morning.”
“Usually in the middle of the night I’m pretty decent, actually. That’s when I shower and move to my bed. Jessie is scheduled to heal me in an hour or so, though. I’ll be fine in plenty of time to walk back for the dinner.”
“Jesus,” he said under his breath, walking toward the hall.
“Susan, you are messing with protocol.”
It was a joke he clearly didn’t find funny.
All the doors were open. He stepped into her room, surely knowing it by her smell. He hesitated. She nodded before she fell asleep.
He started forward again. Hopefully she’d made her bed and put away her underwear.
She didn’t usually have people in here. If she met someone, she went to his house so she could leave when she was done.
She’d never much liked sleeping in other people’s beds.
She’d earned a reputation as a hit-it-and-quit-it girl, but…
they kept coming back, so clearly that wasn’t a bad thing.
Then again, gargoyles never cared about the details, and she was primarily interested in gargoyles right now.
He stepped through into the bathroom connecting her and Nessa’s rooms. A large tub sat below a window at the far wall, the jets broken but the basin deep. He knelt beside it and gently lowered her in.
“Susan, honestly, I don’t need the white-glove treatment. I’m not as bad as I seem.”
“You are worse than you seem. You’re just determined and resilient and too hardheaded to acknowledge it.” He ever so gently smoothed her hair back so that it was pooled on the tile at the back of the tub. “Is he pushing you this hard, or are you pushing yourself and he’s letting you?”
“In some things he pushes me hard, but it’s usually mental or endurance. Not pain. When I end up like this, it’s because I refuse to stay down. His beast usually has him by then, and it waits longer to call off the fight. We have three months until the conclave. I want to show strength.”
He grunted, acceding that she was at fault for her condition.
Some would still argue that her trainer was her guardian, and he should protect her from herself, but when alphas were involved, with their power and their beasts, everything edged a little closer to danger.
The red line became narrower. It was practice for reality.
For the hard challenges that would eventually come.
And in the convocation, with the battles on the horizon, it might be what helped her survive.
Drawers opened and closed, and this time, she let her eyes stay closed.
“Do you have a neck pillow?” he asked.
“No. I should get one, though.”
The hot and cold water knobs squeaked as they were turned.
“Please don’t tell me you’re going to put salt in here,” she said, sleep dragging at her.
“I’m going to put salt in there.”
But as the warm water filled the tub, the stinging/burning sensation of salt didn’t come. He was poking fun at her.
A thought belatedly occurred to her, but before she could ask it, she’d drifted too far to pull herself out of the fog of sleep.
Running water lifted her out of sleep. She opened her groggy eyes as warmth swirled around her mostly healed legs. Sue sat beside the tub in one of the dining room chairs, head tilted forward, looking at his phone.
“Hey,” she said, and then cleared her somewhat scratchy throat.
Without glancing at her, he leaned down on his other side and came up with a water bottle. He balanced it on his lap to switch phone hands before holding it out for her.
She furrowed her brow in confusion but chuckled a little at the absurdity of the situation.
Also without ripping his eyes away from his phone, he turned off the water.
Wondering what on his phone had him so engrossed, and also why he was still here, she took a swig of her water…and then emptied it. She was dying of thirst. Healing always had that effect.
She set the water bottle down on the little band of tile circling the side of the tub. He took it, shook it, and finally looked up from his phone.
“Need more?” he asked.