A Pack of Love and Hate

by Olivia Wildenstein

  I felt like a fly caught in a web belonging to two equally big and possessive spiders. But it wasn’t my life or my heart I feared for; it was theirs. I couldn’t split myself in half, and even though I loved them both, I loved them differently.

  I set my untouched coffee down on my bedside table and wrapped my hand around the one August had fisted at his side, prying his fingers open until they relaxed and twined with mine.

  “See you later, Liam.” I smiled at him, but all I got in return was a sharp nod.

  He backed away.

  As Ingrid trailed after him, I called out, “In case I don’t see you again, Ingrid, have a safe trip back, and say hi to your family from me.”

  She looked over her shoulder at me, then at August, then at our hands. “I will,” she said, offering me a weak smile.

  Once the door was closed, Sarah loosed a breath. “Well, that was a little awkward.”

  “And this is why I advocate polygamy,” Lucas said brightly. “And orgies. Everyone gets what they want, or rather, whom.”

  Sarah smacked his thigh.

  “Ow. What was that for? I’m allowed my opinion,” he muttered. “It’s my constitutional right.”

  “When you’re going to say stupid shit, use your inside voice,” Sarah said.

  “Stupid shit? How was that stupid?”

  “It was unhelpful,” she said, gaze pinging between August and me.

  Greg blustered into the room then. “Got here as fast as I could.”

  I’d never been so happy to see the pack doctor. One, because I was anxious to get my bandage off, and two, because I didn’t want to talk about our tangled love lives anymore. I sensed Lucas had been trying to lighten the atmosphere, but his quip had the adverse effect. August’s grip had become bruising, as though my former mate was afraid that if he let go, I would venture away.

  I’d moved him the night of the duel. Perhaps if the link still connected us, August wouldn’t have felt so threatened, but now that it was gone . . .

  “Glad to see you awake, kid.” Greg squirted some disinfectant into his palms and rubbed them as he approached my bedside.

  I tried to smile, but a bolt of nervousness shot through me.

  “So, I’m going to take a look under the bandage.”

  Take a look underneath it? “Is there a chance it’s not coming off?”

  As his fingers inched up to the gauze, he seemed to realize we weren’t alone. “You mind giving Ness and me some room?”

  “Sure, doc,” Lucas said.

  Sarah rose from the bed reluctantly. “I’ll be right outside.”

  “Want August to stay, Ness?” Greg asked.

  My heart started pounding double-time. “I-I . . .”

  August’s motionless body finally came alive. “I’d like to stay.” He dipped his chin into his neck to peer down at me. “If that’s okay with you?”

  Greg waited until I acquiesced before proceeding to remove the bandage. As the strips fell away, and cool air touched my newly exposed skin, I shivered.

  August let go of my hand and skated his palm across my back to drive warmth into my chilled skin.

  Greg gathered the fallen gauze and chucked it in the garbage. He lifted his fingers to my face again, I assumed to remove the last of the bandages, but he simply prodded my cheek.

  “You’re not going to remove everything?” I finally asked.

  His hand arced down slowly. “I did, Ness.”

  He must not have, though, because something was still obstructing my sight. I raised my hand to do it myself. When my fingertips bumped against my lashes and the slick surface of my eye, I turned to marble.

  62

  The weight of my surprise made my numb fingers glide down a hardened ridge that tapered off into smooth skin.

  Greg was saying something, but his words banged into my eardrums without penetrating. I flung the sheet off my legs and got out of bed. When the balls of my feet hit the cold linoleum, my head spun. Two sets of hands wrapped around my upper arms to steady me—Greg’s and August’s.

  The tan-colored wall swam in and out of focus. I shrugged their hands away, then padded into the bathroom in my hospital gown.

  Cold air snuck through the papery fabric, wrapping around my bare skin, bringing more goose bumps to the surface.

  I flicked the switch on the wall, or thought I did, but my fingers whispered through air, missing their mark. My second attempt, though, was successful.

  Light flooded the tiled space that had been scrubbed with so much antibacterial soap my nose twitched. I stepped in front of the mirror, wiped my right eye to clear it of the blur. As my vision sharpened on my reflection, a breath stumbled through my parted lips.

  I raised my fingers to my face and traced the two centipede-like violet scars that started at my left temple and curved over my lid and cheek, arcing toward my ear. But the scars were hardly the most alarming thing about my face. No, what truly distressed me was the paleness of my blue iris and black pupil.

  I swallowed back the lump rising in my throat. Crying over my appearance and loss of vision felt so silly considering everything.

  I caught movement and turned to find August leaning against the door. I palmed the left side of my face to hide my disfigurement.

  “Dimples . . .”

  The pity coating his tone had me bristling.

  I sidestepped him and returned to Greg. “Will my eyesight come back?” I asked, my voice surprisingly firm.

  Eyes crinkling with grief, he shook his head. “Your scarring, in time, will become fainter—Liam’s has already improved, but he’s Alpha so you can’t really compare your healing capacities—however, your eye won’t improve. The corneal abrasion was too deep and drops of Morgan’s blood came in contact with your aqueous humor.”

  Humor . . . What a strange term for something that was decidedly not funny.

  “Do you see anything at all?” he asked.

  “No.”

  He nodded.

  Heat glazed my cold spine. Instead of leaning into August, I took a step forward, bumping my shins into the gray base of my hospital bed.

  Greg shot out a hand to steady me. “It’ll impact your depth perception. You’re going to have to relearn how to move your body in space. It’ll probably take some time, time during which you shouldn’t drive and should exert extra caution on stairs.”

  My heart pumped blood that felt like sludge through my veins. “How long?”

  “Weeks. Months.”

  Air pulsed through my nose as I thought of my new car. With my hand still covering half my face, I sat on the firm mattress. “Can I still shift?”

  “I pumped you with quite a lot of Sillin, so you might not be able to for a while still.” He tipped his head toward August. “Shouldn’t be too long, though. August can already shift again.”

  “Completely?” I asked, watching August’s jean-clad knees.

  “Yes.” August’s voice was as tight as his locked joints.

  After a beat, I asked, “Can I go home?”

  “Yes.” Greg rose from the bed. “I’ll go get all the paperwork in order.” His hand dropped to my shoulder and squeezed lightly. “If you have any questions for me, you have my number.”

  Lowering my gaze to the shiny linoleum, I nodded.

  Once Greg left, August crouched in front of me to capture the attention I was withholding from him. His hands coasted over my kneecaps that were wedged together, the bones grinding into one another. I hadn’t yet seen the rest of my body but sensed I’d lost too much weight.

  “Dimples . . .”

  “Is Jeb back?”

  August sighed, probably not wanting to discuss my uncle right now. “He’s at the inn with Lucy, putting it in order. Liam gave it back to them.” August tried to tow my hand off my face, but I resisted. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

  I didn’t say anything . . . I couldn’t. The lump had grown too much to speak around it.

  “Ness . . .”
/>   I turned my face away and stared at the dancing boughs of the oak tree, trying to settle my churning thoughts.

  August’s knees clicked as he rose. For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

  Then, “Can you ask Sarah to come back in here? Just Sarah. No one else.”

  A moment later, his footfalls petered out. While I waited for her, I wondered if she’d already glimpsed my face without the bandage.

  When her lavender-and-silk perfume replaced August’s heavy, heady scent, I turned. Making sure no one else was in the room and that the door was shut, I lowered my hand and exposed my ruined face.

  Her gaze didn’t waver in surprise, didn’t widen in horror. It remained steady on mine. I guessed she’d known what to expect.

  “You know what’s insane?” she finally said, blowing a puff of air out of the corner of her mouth. “It’s how ridiculously pretty you still are in spite of your battle scars. Here I thought I’d finally have a chance to outshine you.”

  Tears tracked down both my cheeks. My left eye was inept at capturing images but not at producing tears.

  “Oh, sweetie.” Sarah dropped down on the mattress, making it bounce a little, and then she wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me close.

  “I know it’s stupid to be angry about this, seeing as I could be dead, but it sucks,” I whispered.

  Sarah pressed away. “It’s not stupid. You’re allowed to be angry. I don’t think it would be healthy if you weren’t.” She combed a lock of hair behind my ear, exposing more of the horror.

  “Everyone’s going to stare.”

  “Everyone already did.”

  “But not for the same reasons.”

  “You’re right. Most people are probably going to wonder how you got your scars. Better come up with a good story that doesn’t involve a duel with a massive wolf. You don’t want to frighten the townspeople.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  Her perfect eyes and her smooth skin.

  “I can’t drive. Not for a while. Depth perception,” I added glumly.

  “Good thing I’m an exceptionally great chauffeur and we go to the same school.”

  “Sarah . . .” I pressed my trembling lips together. Tears circled around them and dripped down my chin, plopping onto my hospital gown.

  “What?”

  “You’re not going to spend your days driving me around.”

  “Why not? I love driving, and surprisingly enough, I love spending time with you. It’s a win-win for me.”

  A knock on the door had me quickly wiping the tears on my sleeves and finger-combing my hair to shroud half my face.

  “Ness?”

  Jeb . . .

  “Should I let him in?” Sarah asked quietly.

  I nodded. “But just him.” I didn’t want to see Lucy. If she’d even come.

  Sarah hugged me again before getting up and letting Jeb inside. “Do you want me to stay, Ness?”

  “No. I’ll call you when I get home.”

  “I meant in the room. I’ll be out in the hallway. It’s a real party out there.”

  I grimaced. “Can you get everyone to leave? I don’t—”

  “Say no more. Your wish is my command. Bye, BB.”

  “BB?”

  “Short for Boulder Babe.” She winked before pulling the door open.

  I eyed the red jacket. If I hadn’t been scarred, it might’ve amused me to wear it, but now . . . now people would surely laugh if I donned it.

  “Ness!” My uncle barreled past Sarah and reached my bed before she’d even closed the door. He hugged me so tight it squeezed an oomph from my lungs. “I think I’ve aged a decade in the past week. Between you and Lucy.” He didn’t mention Everest, but I sensed my cousin was never far from Jeb’s mind.

  “I heard you got the inn back.”

  “Thanks to you.” He let me go, but then his hand moved to my stringy hair. I let him tuck it behind my ear and inspect the mutilation. His lips pressed so tight they vanished completely in his thick beard. “If Liam hadn’t burned her body, I’d—I’d . . .”

  “He burned her body?”

  “Yes. So she could rot in hell next to Aidan.”

  Had that been his reasoning, or had Liam worried the silver in her blood would contaminate the soil? For whatever reason he’d done it, I was glad she was well and truly gone.

  “I saw Greg signing the discharge papers. Ready to come home?”

  I nodded, but then asked, “Which home, though?”

  He smiled gently, skating his palm over the side of my face that wasn’t injured. “Whichever one you want? You have many now. I kept the apartment. August got a team together to clean and repaint your house, so it’s ready too. And the inn, there’s always a room with your name on it. It’s completely up to you, honey.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  “Wherever you’ll be.”

  I smiled at him. “You don’t need to take care of me anymore, Jeb.”

  “Who’s going to take care of me?”

  “I’m half-blind.” My voice was a cracked whisper.

  “You’re half-sighted.” He combed another lock of hair behind my ear. “And the best way of taking care of a person is to spend time with them and love them. You’re really good at that.”

  “You have Lucy now.”

  “And what? I can’t have two women in my life?”

  “I know she apologized, but I’m not ready to live with her.”

  “Then you won’t. She’ll stay at the inn. And I’ll stay wherever you want to live.” He stood, extended his hand, palm face up, and waited for me to latch onto it. When I did, he said, “So where shall we go?”

  “The apartment,” I said without hesitation.

  It had been a safe haven, unlike the inn, unlike my parents’ house. “I might need some clothes though . . .” I tipped my head to my bare legs poking out of the hospital gown.

  “Of course. Let me run back and get you some. Give me a half hour.”

  After Jeb left, August let himself in again. Draping my hair over the ugly wound, I sank down on the bed and gathered my hands between my knees.

  “Everyone’s gone,” he said, coming to sit next to me.

  “Except you.”

  I felt his body stiffen. “Did you want me to leave?”

  “You don’t have to stay.”

  He crooked a finger under my chin and lifted my face. I slid my chin off its perch and dipped it back against my neck. “Why won’t you look at me?”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to look at you,” I whispered. “It’s that I don’t want you to look at me.”

  He sighed, a deep, rattling lungful that softened the line of his body, and then one of his arms hooked my knees and the other curved under my arms. He scooped me up and deposited me with the utmost gentleness onto his lap.

  “I don’t want you to stay with me because you feel pity, August,” I said, nestling my head in the crook of his neck.

  He snorted, sliding his hand through the back of the gown and running his fingers delicately over my spine. I felt something stiff press against my thigh.

  “Because that’s the reason I’m staying with you,” he said softly.

  “How can you still desire me? My face is—it’s . . .” Tears crept down my scars and pooled in the corner of my mouth.

  “It’s the face I want to wake up to every morning and fall asleep watching every night.” August’s hand settled on the small of my back. “Besides, I’ll remind you that I’m scarred too.”

  “Not your face.”

  “No, not my face.” He tucked me a little closer still, locking both his arms around my juddering ribs. “Your scars are a piece of you now, and I love all the pieces of you, Ness Clark.”

  A loud sob scraped up my throat as I burrowed deeper into this man who’d always tried to keep me safe, and who, when he’d failed because I’d pushed him away, had risked his life so I could get mine back.

  “You’re the lo
ve of my entire life, August Watt,” I whispered against his neck that smelled of wood and spice . . . that smelled of home.

  Epilogue

  The sunset dripped through the evergreen needles, showering the forest with a crimson glow that turned the rough trunks tawnier. I was still in Colorado, but miles away from Boulder.

  When Sarah had caught me crying into my pillow after I’d failed, for the fourth morning in a row, to make myself a cup of coffee—I’d poured the scorching liquid all over the countertop and down my legs instead of inside my mug—she’d booted my butt out of bed and took me on a road trip to a cabin that belonged to her father, but which he apparently rarely used.

  We’d told next no one we’d left—just Liam, Jeb, and Evelyn. Evelyn because her heart would’ve given out if she thought I’d run away, Jeb so he knew I was safe, and Liam because he could track us, and I didn’t want him to give my location away to August.

  Sarah believed I’d taken her up on the trip to regain my footing in this new world, but that wasn’t the reason I’d gone with her.

  I’d gone because I was ashamed.

  The morning I spilled the coffee on myself, August had cleaned up my mess. He’d cleaned up most of my messes since I’d been home. And although he never once complained, it wasn’t fair to him. Which had been the second reason that propelled me out of Boulder . . . out of his life.

  He had everything going for him. He didn’t need to be saddled with a girl who couldn’t manage to fill a glass, who knocked into furniture, who tripped because she constantly miscalculated the distance between her feet and the raised threshold of a doorway. Perhaps, one day, my brain would catch up with my two-dimensional vision, but until that day came, I didn’t want to be anyone’s ball-and-chain.

  As I rocked in the hammock hooked between two great spruce trees, I twirled an aspen daisy between my fingers, marveling at the petals’ lilac shade. I’d picked it with Sarah before she’d headed into town for some fresh produce.

  Even though I could never hate you, if you break my heart again—

  When I break yours, it breaks mine.

  We’d been gone three days, and I’d spent all of them thinking about August, reliving tender moments we’d shared, but then I’d close my eyes to force the memories away, because the pain of being without him made my broken heart hurt more than my broken face.