HIM 19. I'm sorry
I find Mera in the common hall, arranging supplies on one of the tables. The space is filled with the usual evening chatter, pack members sharing meals and conversation after a long day.
I walk straight over to her. "How is she?" I ask.
Mera doesn't look up from her work. "Stable. The concussion's mild, but she'll need rest."
"Any complications?" I lean against the table.
"Physically? No." She finally turns to face me, her expression unreadable. "But she wants to leave."
"She can't. Not yet."
"I told her that." Mera crosses her arms. "She's not happy about it."
I run a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of the past few days settling on my shoulders. "Did you bring her the medicine again?"
"Yes. She didn't take it."
Of course she didn't. I can picture her sitting there, arms crossed, refusing anything that might suggest she needs help from us. From me.
"Maybe you shouldn't have lied to her," Mera says quietly.
The words hit harder than I expected. "I couldn't tell her.
Not if I wanted this plan to work." I move closer, lowering my voice.
"Whatever she tells herself, our Communicator is not cut out for lying.
Also, with all her talk about justice and violence, I knew she wouldn't approve of us taking Senna Miller. "
Mera's eyebrows raise slightly. "She went through a lot the past day. Maybe you should actually apologize."
"Apologize for what? Keeping us safe?" The words come out sharper than I intended. "You know we needed this plan to work. To finally have some information, to actually get him out of his reserve."
"Well, your plan is working great," Mera says dryly, "other than having a completely depressed and hurt Communicator on your hands."
I stare at her, taken aback by the edge in her voice. "Since when do you like humans?"
Mera looks at me like I'm missing something obvious. "I don't. But I like her. And unlike you, my brain can comprehend that not all beings—wolves or humans—are the same."
I raise my eyebrows at her. "Is that so?"
"For example," she continues, "we are both wolves, and I am way more intelligent than you are."
I almost smile. "Well, can't argue against that."
Before I can respond further, I see her gaze focusing on someone behind me. I turn to see the Communicator entering the common hall. She stops when she sees us, her entire body tensing. She looks exhausted, in pain, and to be honest, she looks unhappy. Fuck, I am responsible for that.
She doesn't say anything, just walks to the far side of the hall, picks up some food and sits alone at one of the stone tables, her back partially turned to us. I can tell people start to murmur a little, but one look from me and they all stop, continuing as usual.
I watch her pick at her food, barely eating. There's something defeated in the way she sits. It's different from the fierce anger she showed before. This looks like resignation, and somehow that's worse.
"Go," Mera says quietly beside me.
I glance at her, then back at the Communicator. "She doesn't want to talk to me."
"No, she doesn't. But you're going to anyway."
I cross the hall slowly, my footsteps echoing off the stone walls. She doesn't look up when I approach, just continues pushing food around her bowl.
"Can I sit?" I ask.
She shrugs without looking at me. "It's your territory."
I sit across from her, noting how she immediately shifts slightly away. "You should eat."
"I'm eating." She takes a deliberately small bite, still not meeting my eyes.
"You're picking at it."
"Same thing."
We sit in silence for a moment. I can feel Mera watching us from across the hall, probably wondering if I'll actually manage to say anything useful.
"The plan worked," I say finally.
"Congratulations." Her voice is flat, empty.
"Senna Miller is in custody. She'll lead us to her father eventually."
She sets down her spoon and finally looks at me. "And what happens to me now?"
The question catches me off guard. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, you got what you wanted. You used me to get to her. So what happens to me now?" She leans back in her chair, arms crossed. "Keep me here forever? Trade me back to the humans?"
"None of those."
"Then what?"
I realize I don't have a clear answer. The plan had focused on getting Senna Miller, on finally drawing her father out of hiding. I hadn't thought much beyond that, especially about what it would mean for her.
"I don't know," I admit.
She nods like she expected that answer.
"Everything I told you about wanting justice, about trying to prevent more violence—that was true." I try to defend myself, but it doesn't sound right. She got hurt in the process, and at the beginning I truly didn't even care.
Why do I care now? She is just a human. A human who helped you, and believed you. My own thoughts are betraying me right know.
"Was it? Or was that just another lie to get me to cooperate?" she asks suddenly.
I lean forward, trying to catch her gaze. "It was true. All of it."
She studies my face for a long moment, and I can see her trying to decide whether to believe me. Finally, she shakes her head and stands up.
"I'm done with this conversation." She picks up her bowl and starts to walk away.
"Wait."
She stops but doesn't turn around. "What?"
"I'm sorry you got hurt."
She looks back at me. "Then let me go."
"I will."
She turns around immediately looking at me in shock and disbelieve. "Will you?"
"Yes," I say, surprised by my own answer.
It's the right thing to do. It's the right thing to do. It's the right thing to do.
The thought repeats in my head.
Her shoulders relax like I lifted a heavy weight from them. "Tomorrow?" she asks, her voice suddenly sounding so much stronger.
"Tomorrow."