Chapter 32
Wake up, Red.
I’m sorry. Heat flares everywhere.
“Come on.” Coolness touches my forehead. I can’t lose her. My mate.
You won’t . . . I promised you mates for life.
When I open my eyes, Stark’s body drapes over the side of the small tub, his hand holding a cloth to my face. “Did you just talk to me? I thought I was losing it.”
Yes. Sorry I didn’t tell you.
I wait for his reaction. Finding out your mate can hear your thoughts might not be that welcoming.
This bathtub might as well be an oven. I close my eyes and sink down into the water.
I thought you were gone. Your body burned my hands. Smoke came from your own skin. I could barely touch you. His thoughts quake into my mind.
It’s called magic burnout. Sort of puts me in a coma.
The cloth drops onto my chest, and I open my eyes again. Stark stares at me, his hand still in the air.
I have a lot to tell you. I let a breath out and my eyelids fall closed. Is Hudry alive?
Yes. He opened his eyes but hasn’t talked yet.
Good. You need to cool him down.
He has fans and a blanket I put in the freezer.
You did good. Thank you.
But that’s all I have in me before I succumb to sleep once more.
The next while passes with nothing but darkness and Stark. At some point, he moves me into my old bedroom, and the hum of a fan comes from somewhere in the room.
I sit up in the bed and find a set of clothes.
My body aches. I have no idea what day or time it is.
I look outside, and it’s pitch black. For the first time, Stark isn’t in here.
I step out to the door and tingles prickle my skin.
I walk down the short hallway to find Stark and Hudry sitting at the table with plates.
Stark jumps up and wraps his arms around me. “You were asleep. I was in the kitchen making sure Hudry ate.”
“What day is it?” I ask.
“The fifteenth.”
Two weeks. I’ve been asleep for over two weeks.
“Where does everyone think you are?” He’s the lead Alpha of his cohort and he was in charge of the entire assault.
“Jocko came here the day after, when we didn’t show up. They think Hudry is resting in the quiet and that he will join them when he’s ready.”
I nod slowly, then sway, and Stark’s arms grip around me.
Hudry stands. “Thank you, Aloka. Stark told me you had some old blood-clotting remedies here from your mom. I didn’t think I’d make it or be walking around days after.”
Remedies? I squint at Stark, waiting for him to respond.
“I’m so happy it worked. You never should’ve been on the front lines.”
Hudry’s gaze falls to the floor. “I thought I could keep up with them.”
“It’s okay.” I reach my hand out to place it on his shoulder. Stark must’ve pulled it back into place. “What matters is you’re doing okay.”
“I’m glad you’re okay too. Stark said you got some wicked cold right after.”
“Well, it’s all good now.” I smile at him, and when he hugs me, I squeeze him in tight. He’s alive. This goofy werewolf kid is alive because of me.
Stark smiles down at me. I have no idea how anyone else is, and right now, I don’t care. I healed a heart.
“Jocko is going to come get you soon, Hudry. Aloka and I will be home tomorrow to debrief everyone who’s been waiting.” Stark grabs me a glass of water from the kitchen. The sight of him so at ease in my home is weirdly comforting.
Once they finish eating, a truck rolls up to the windows outside. Hudry hops up and goes to the door with Stark.
“Thanks again. Also, have you two ever seen a red wolf? I swear I saw one after I got shot.”
“Must’ve been the adrenaline,” I say.
“So powerful. It seemed so real.” He turns and skips out the door.
The second the truck pulls down the driveway, Stark’s hands are on me. He leans down and kisses my lips, my body melting into his. He lifts my legs up around his waist and walks us over to the couch, lowering me down, his lips glued to mine.
He breaks the kiss and stands.
I pout and look up at him. “What?”
You can hear my thoughts.
Yes.
Have you always been able to?
“I have . . .”
He runs his hand through his dark hair.
“I don’t always listen, and I swear you’re quiet most of the time.”
He scoffs. “That’s because I know how to block people out.”
“Oh yeah, Pratt could do that.” I look away.
“But you . . .” He leans down over me. “You talked to me and no one else heard you.”
“Um.” I sink further into the couch, digging my nails into my wrist. Guess he caught on to that.
“No more of this. Tell me. You talked to me all that time ago, when I was outside the Uprising, and you were missing. It was you, Aloka.”
“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” I plead. My eyes water.
“How can you only talk to me? No one else hears you. I can’t do that. It’s the pack or no one.”
“I can pick who I communicate with. You’re the only one I’ve ever done it with other than my mom and Pratt . . . before . . .” Their photos, filled with smiling faces, sit on the bookshelf behind him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” There’s no anger in his words, but simple confusion lines his face. Only, it’s not simple. None of this is.
“Trust,” I say.
“You trust me now?”
“I do.”
He kneels and rests his arms on my lap. The smile on his face fills me with butterflies. “Why don’t you tell them you can hear them?”
It’s a lot to understand all at once. I get why he doesn’t get my choices. He’s missing a lot of pieces to the truth.
“Everyone expects me to be useless. It’s easier than raising questions.” My one cheek rises with a small half-smile.
“Is there anything else you want to tell me?”
I stare into the blue of his eyes. He saw me—the real me—when I scooped up Hudry after they both got shot. Maybe he didn’t think it was real either, but he heard my voice.
“Your leg.” I glance down.
“It’s fine. The bullet when right through and I bandaged it.” He taps it.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve healed you.”
His head snaps up. “No, Red. No more healing.”
I huff. “Why?”
“You collapsed after Hudry, then it took thirty hours in an ice bath to give a reliable sign that you were alive.”
“I did? Pratt was always on me about not burning out. I’d never healed a heart before. It’s why Pratt didn’t come here after he got shot. He knew I’d try anything.” Shame fills me, and I lose against the tears.
“You have to stay within your limits.”
The tears roll off my cheeks onto my chest. Pratt used to say that.
“Mate?”
“Hmm?”
“Promise me there are no other magical-wielding secrets. I find it so strange you can’t turn.” He looks straight into my eyes.
The tears flow. I can’t answer that.
“Yeah . . . Thank you for being here.” I pull at him, and he joins me on the couch. I shift and curl into his lap, leaning against his chest.
One day, I’ll tell him, but it’ll be too overwhelming right now.
His thick arms hold me, and I tilt my head up, except he’s not looking at me. He’s looking at my hair.