Chapter 25
Lucian
Consciousness comes to me in waves.
The first thing I feel is pain—this constant ache in my middle that I can’t seem to shake. I shift off my back and instantly regret it. Fuck, that hurts. My eyes are sticky, and it takes several blinks to see clearly. Light filters in through the sheer curtains over a tall window.
Where am I?
I look down at the sheets. This isn’t the bed in my apartment, but I know this room. It’s mine at the pack house. How did I get here?
My chest itches incessantly, so I throw off the blanket and find bandages around my torso. What… Flashes of the battle come to me, and I jolt upright, uncaring of the pain coursing through me.
Cara.
My hound instantly whines, wanting to take over and hunt her down, but I push him back. Shifting right now is probably the worst thing we can do to the wound on our chest. We both know it.
I toss my legs over the side of the bed, chest aching as the skin beneath the bandage shifts with my sudden, jerking movements, yet I still don’t care. I need to find Cara.
Is she here at the pack house? Her apartment? Did she decide to visit her mother after all? Or, fuck… did she even make it out of that realm alive?
A figure steps in front of the window, startling me from my thoughts. With the light at their back, I can’t make out their features, but with a deep inhale I already know who it is.
“If you even try to get up from that bed, Lucian, I’ll happily put you back on your ass. Injury or not. I just packed your wound.”
She would, too. My mother became a vet when we settled in this realm, and she’s strict with her patients. I lean back against the headboard, acquiescing for now. “Where is she?” As long as she gives me answers, I’ll play her game.
“She’s safe and back in her own realm. You’re the one I’m worried about.” It’s like she can tell I’m not satisfied with her answer because she adds, “Lucian, she’s fine. You, on the other hand, need to rest. Whatever conversation you need to have with the nephilim can wait.”
“You don’t understand,” I begin, sounding like a child.
“Oh, I understand. Which is why you need to be at peak strength to dig yourself out of the mess you made.”
It’s not often my mother scolds me, so when she does, it’s doubly effective. Settling further into the cushions, I say, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away.”
My mother is strong-willed and very vocal, so the pause she takes before replying hits me like a chasm of darkness. Finally, she sits on the bed. “Why didn’t you?”
I take the cup of water she passes me and swallow some of the cold liquid.
“Honestly, I don’t know. At first, I refused to accept it.
How could I be mated to a nephilim? And if I was struggling to accept it, I couldn’t see how the pack would fare any better with it.
Besides, with me being her professor, it kind of muddies the water. ”
“Now that’s a custom I just don’t understand. If she’s your mate and you both want it, nothing should stand in the way of your claiming each other. Least of all, her being your student. It’s ridiculous.” Mom throws her hands in the air, making me laugh.
Fuck, that hurt.
“Humans don’t have mating bonds like we do, so to them we’re the weird ones, remember?” The room falls silent, and everything else floods back. Harry, the other hellhounds who came to our aid. “Did anyone else get hurt?”
“Nothing too serious. Not like with Harry.”
I take her hand in mine. “At least he’s with his mate again.”
She wipes a tear away. “A few hounds came back with you. You can meet them in a few days when you’re feeling better.”
“I’m feeling fine,” I mutter, but she ignores me.
The door opens, and Coop enters. My mother, likely already guessing just how much he and I need to talk, gives my hand a squeeze and wastes no time heading toward the exit.
On the dresser beside the door, I see the stuffed animal Cara won at the carnival. The one she wanted to bring home for her pet. Next to it is the red nametag.
I ruined everything.
“Don’t get him worked up,” she says to Coop, who feigns offense.
I roll my eyes at his theatrics, but I can’t deny that I’m glad to see him acting his usual self. That’s a good sign, I think.
Except the moment we’re alone, my usually talkative best friend doesn’t say a word. The silence isn’t necessarily awkward, but it takes me a full thirty seconds to realize he’s giving me the chance to open up about everything. Something I should have done long before now.
Even though he knew more than the others, I know it still hurts him that I wasn’t fully honest with him about everything. Maybe if I had been, we could have avoided this entire mess.
“Thank you,” I say, not really sure where to start. “For protecting her.”
He doesn’t need me to say her name. He already knows who I’m talking about.
“Of course. I told you before that the nephilim girl was innocent, and we both know what would have happened if the demon king got hold of her. She doesn’t deserve that.”
He’s right, but I don’t want to consider for a second how bad things could have gone. “Still. I’m sorry I wasn’t entirely honest with you before.”
One of Coop’s shoulders raises in a half shrug.
“I get it. No hard feelings, man.” Silence falls around us for a beat, and I struggle to find the words to fill it, but then Coop adds, “Besides, if I knew you were pretending to be a dog AND took my name, I’d have keeled over and died of laughter.
I bet you look pretty cute wearing that nametag. ”
I narrow my eyes, glaring at him. “That was all just a misunderstanding.”
“Right, right. Whatever you say.” His smirk gives away just how little he actually believes it.
“She had just come home from visiting you and took my interest in your scent as a sign that I liked the name. That’s all.” Needing a distraction, I finish the water in my cup. When I’m done, Coop is still grinning like an idiot. “And besides, it was far better than the others she tested.”
“Oh, do tell.”
“Not a chance.”
My best friend laughs as he leans against the wall. “I’ll get the story from you one day. Or her, if she sticks around.”
I let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Probably unlikely, since I’m sure she either hates me or fears me. Neither of which I want.”
Behind his eyes, there’s a glint of something mischievous, and I’m half tempted to ask him to share whatever has him so damn gleeful.
“Or, it’s possible she feels something entirely different.
You’re a pessimist when you’re hungry. Let me grab you something to eat, and then you can share all the fun names your mate wanted to give you.
I’m quite interested to hear how awful they were if my name was the only one you liked. ”
I toss a pillow at him, but he dodges it effortlessly.
At the door he turns to me, face serious. “Stay,” he says in a commanding voice, his laughter echoing from the hallway as he leaves.
Dick.
Despite what he and my mother said, I can’t just stay put.
I need to know she’s alright. I need to explain myself.
So, I do what any sane man would do. I wait until his footsteps recede down the hall, take a deep breath and get the fuck out of bed.
The ache in my chest isn’t completely unbearable, which is definitely a win in my book.
I don’t see my phone anywhere. My mother or Cooper probably hid it somewhere, but I’ll track it down.
First, I need to get dressed. Luckily for me I keep enough clothes stocked in the closet for emergencies, so I have no issue finding dark blue sweatpants and a gray pullover.
I don’t bother with socks. Even though I’m not willing to just sit by and rest like they want me to, I’m not an idiot.
There’s no need to aggravate my already healing wounds more than necessary, and that’s precisely what putting socks on would do.
I listen by the door, only opening it when I’m sure the coast is clear.
Now, where would they hide my phone? I don’t even really have to think about it.
They’d choose somewhere in plain sight so any member of the pack would catch me while trying to retrieve it.
It’ll be harder to do, but not totally impossible.
Well worth the risk of getting caught if it means I can check in with Cara.
I make it only a few steps before I hear someone coming up the stairs. Shit. I don’t have time to hide before they turn the corner, but it’s not Cooper or my mom. It’s her.
Cara.
Our mate.
My hound lets out a rumble of satisfaction that doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone, least of all the woman standing at the top of the stairs carrying a tray of food. I can’t read her face to know what she’s thinking. Is she angry? Afraid? Disgusted, even?
All my careful planning of what to say to her, the explanation and begging for her forgiveness, dissipates until my mind is completely blank. I watch her take a deep breath before she walks past me and enters the room I just vacated.
I follow her, hoping to catch her scent and let it calm my mind, but something is off.
Why does she smell like my best friend again?
A growl reverberates from my chest so loud that she whips her head around. “What’s that about?”
I grab the back of my neck and look away. “Oh, uh, my hound doesn’t like the way you smell.” Her face scrunches up in a way that tells me I definitely just fucked up. “No, wait. We love the way you smell, but my best friend’s scent is mixed with yours, so it’s making him a little jealous.”
Shit. Why can’t I get anything right?
Putting her shirt up to her nose, I watch as she breathes in, then shrugs. “I don’t smell anything.”
I sigh. “It’s a hound thing. He’ll get over it,” I say, just as another growl escapes. Pull it together, man.
She rolls her eyes and moves to the closet, grabbing a few articles and putting them on. When she’s done, she tosses the old clothes out in the hall. “Better?”
My hound practically purrs in satisfaction. I nod. “Thank you.”