Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
The invitation came during breakfast.
Rae's texts were always like that. Direct. Non-negotiable. The kind of message that made it clear declining wasn't actually an option.
I stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the keyboard. I should say no. I had Stone to visit. Charts to review. A paper for Tomlinson's class that was already two days late.
My phone buzzed again.
Alexandra has been asking for you. She drew you a picture.
Below the text: a photo of a crayon drawing. A tornado, or maybe a rainbow. Hard to tell with two-year-old artwork.
I smiled despite myself.
I'll be there.
The walk to Rae's house took fifteen minutes.
She and her mates lived on the edge of campus — close enough to respond to emergencies, far enough that students didn't constantly interrupt. The house was larger than faculty housing usually was, built to accommodate a family that kept growing.
I'd been here before. Many times, actually, during the years before when I'd visit during summer breaks. But somehow, in the chaos of the past few weeks, I'd stopped coming. Stopped doing anything that wasn't directly related to the ferals.
The front door opened before I could knock.
"LULU!"
Three feet of determined toddler launched herself at my legs. I caught Alexandra before she could knock us both over, swinging her up onto my hip with the ease of long practice.
"Hey, little wolf." I pressed a kiss to her dark curls. "I heard you made me a picture."
"It's you!" Alexandra grabbed my face with both hands, squishing my cheeks together. "And the sad wolves. But they're not sad anymore 'cause you're there."
My throat tightened. "That's a very good picture."
"I know." She said it with the absolute confidence only a two-year-old could manage. "Daddy helped with the ears."
"Which daddy?"
"The loud one."
"Ash, then."
"Ash." She nodded solemnly. "He's loud."
"I heard that!" A voice called from inside the house. A moment later, Ash appeared in the doorway — tall, broad-shouldered, with the easy grin. His dark hair was longer than the last time I'd seen him, pulled back in a short tail. "I am not loud. I am enthusiastic."
"Same thing," Alexandra informed him.
He clutched his chest in mock offense. "Betrayed by my own daughter." He stepped forward, pulled me into a one-armed hug that was careful not to squish Alexandra between us. "Good to see you, Lumi. You look like hell."
"Thanks."
"I mean it with love." He stepped back, studying my face with the same assessing look everyone seemed to have lately. "Rae's in the kitchen. The rest of the chaos is in the living room. Come on — Silas made his famous lamb thing. If we don't hurry, Vince will eat it all."
The living room was exactly as chaotic as Ash had promised.
Professor Tomlinson sat in the armchair by the fireplace, a glass of wine in hand, looking nothing like the stern academic who assigned twelve-page papers. Out of the classroom, with his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up, he almost looked approachable.
On the couch, Silas was deep in conversation with Rae.
His silver-streaked hair caught the lamplight as he gestured, making some point I couldn't hear.
He looked up when I entered, and his expression shifted — that familiar assessing gaze he always turned on me, like he was reading something written on my skin.
"Lumi." He rose, crossed to me with the fluid grace that always seemed at odds with his scholarly demeanor. "I was hoping you'd come."
"Rae didn't give me much choice."
"She rarely does." His smile was warm but his eyes stayed watchful. "We should talk, you and I. Soon. About your visions."
Before I could respond, the front door burst open behind me.
"We're back!"
Two identical voices, two identical grins. Kade and Kane walked in and Alexandra immediately ran to them.
I stood in the middle of the room, watching Rae's pack move around each other with the easy familiarity of people who had been doing this for years.
Kade stealing a piece of cheese from Kane's plate.
Silas pouring wine for Tomlinson. Ash emerging from the kitchen with a platter of bread, ducking to kiss Rae as he passed her.
This was what pack looked like. What family felt like.
The ache in my chest caught me off guard.
"Hey." Rae appeared at my elbow, her voice soft. "You okay?"
"Yeah." I blinked hard. "Yeah, I just— I forgot what this felt like."
"Noisy? Chaotic? Slightly overwhelming?"
"Full." I looked at her. "It feels full."
Rae's expression softened. She wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulled me against her side.
"You've been running on empty for weeks," she said quietly. "Taking care of everyone except yourself. That's not sustainable, Lumi. Even for someone as stubborn as you."
"I know."
"Do you?" She turned me to face her, her dark eyes serious. "Because from where I'm standing, you're about three days from collapse. And the ferals need you healthy. We need you healthy."
"Rae—"
"Dinner first." She squeezed my shoulder. "Serious conversation later. Tonight, you eat. You laugh. You let Alexandra force you to play wolves after dessert."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to explain that I couldn't stop, couldn't slow down, couldn't take a night off when Stone was finally starting to trust me and the council was still threatening to take them all away.
But Alexandra was tugging on my hand, demanding that I come see the picture she'd drawn. And somewhere in the kitchen, something smelled incredible.
"Okay," I said. "Tonight, I eat."
Rae smiled. "That's my girl."
Dinner was loud and warm and exactly what I hadn't known I needed.
The lamb was as good as Ash had promised.
The twins told increasingly improbable stories about their trip to Europe — a Council mission they couldn't discuss, apparently, though they hinted at diplomatic meetings and old archives and something about a vampire coven that may or may not have been a joke.
"We're heading back out in a few days," Kane said, reaching for another piece of bread. "Council wants us to follow up on some leads."
"What kind of leads?" I asked.
Kade and Kane exchanged a look. That twin thing they did, communicating in glances.
"Old council stuff," Kade said finally.
Something cold touched my spine. "What kind of programs?"
Another exchanged look. This time, Rae intervened.
"Not tonight," she said firmly. "Whatever it is, it can wait until you're not about to fall asleep in your dinner plate."
She wasn't wrong. The warmth of the house, the fullness of my stomach, the wine — all of it was hitting me at once. I was tired in a way that went beyond physical exhaustion. Tired in my bones.
"Stay," Rae said. "The guest room is made up. You can go back to the Healing Center in the morning."
"Stone—"
"Will survive one night without you." Her voice was gentle but firm. "Neal is monitoring. If anything changes, he'll call. But you need sleep. Real sleep, not the three-hour naps you've been taking in that observation room."
I wanted to argue. But Alexandra had climbed into my lap and was doing her very slow blink thing — the one she did right before she fell asleep. Her weight was warm and solid against my chest.
"Okay," I heard myself say. "One night."