by Sam Hall
It’s time to wake up, a great voice said. You are home now.
5
I obeyed with a start, my eyes flicking open, then darting around the unfamiliar room.
Where the fuck am I? I thought, feeling my pulse pound and hearing a beeping machine keep pace with it. I glanced at it, the cords that kept me connected to it, and the obvious hospital bed I was lying in, if the glaring white sheets and metal framed gurney was anything to go by. Harsh artificial lights glared down on me, ones that made it clear I was not alone.
Curled up on my left side was Kade. He whimpered when I moved, but even when I lay still, the noises still came. He twitched in his sleep, his whine growing louder, more desperate. The snort of someone waking suddenly jerked my eyes beyond the bed.
The man from the car, I thought, seeing those brown eyes open blearily. My body coiled around Kade’s, covering his with mine, ready to strike.
He staggered over to the bed with the time old shuffle of a parent with an unsettled child, eyes three quarters closed, it taking for him to reach out, about to put a hand on Kade’s shoulder, before he noticed me. His eyes flicked open, hand and body freezing.
I watched him and he watched me, my eyes inexorably dragged over to the pink, still healing bite on his neck. I tasted that weird acidic bile again, and said, “Who are you?”
“I’m Peter. I need to get the doc—”
“No, where the hell are we? Why am I attached to all these machines?”
“This is Sanctuary.” He saw the confusion in my eyes, along with something else—fear. “It’s my hometown. This is the medical centre. You were hurt, really badly, Flick.”
I jerked back at that.
“How do you know my name?”
He swallowed, moving restively by the bed, an odd sight for a man so big.
“You told me. Your heart… When you…”
There was a moment then, one of quiet regard, where anyone watching us would have said we stared into each other’s eyes, but there was something different about this. He struggled with something, I could see it in the move of his lips, like he was about to say something but stopped himself. His fingers twitched, the tiny movements coming closer before a long sigh escaped his lungs. He seemed to draw himself up, that massive chest swelling, but before he got to say a word, the green curtain hanging around us was swept aside.
“Hello,” said an older woman, who was quite short and with a soft face. She wore a white coat over her clothes and had a stethoscope around her neck. “I’m Doctor Hobbes.”
“How did I get here? Why am I hooked up to these machines? How long have I been here for?”
At the sound of my questions, my heart rate spiked, and the doctor’s eyes went to the rapidly beeping machine beside me. I shook with the effort of holding myself still, wanting to yank free and run the fuck out of here.
“The boys brought you in unconscious and unresponsive. You experienced considerable trauma, Felicity.”
“Flick,” I corrected her. That had been the name my friends and family had used. Felicity was his wife.
“Flick,” she said with a nod. “We’ve had you under observation for two days and given you some pain relief.”
“Two days! I need to get up,” I said, then my eyes dropped down to where my son was starting to shift. “What about Kade?”
“Some heavy bruising, but we’ve had him on a diet of soft foods. His scars are more…”
“Psychological,” I finished for her, looking down at the boy curled at my side. His eyes fluttered open, and he just looked at me for a second before he realised what he was looking at.
“Mum!”
He threw his arms around my neck, something that had me wincing, Peter taking a step closer. I stared him down over my son’s shoulders, feeling a growl deep in my throat form.
A growl?
“I’m glad you’re awake,” the doctor said, eyes flicking from Peter to me. “It means you’re on the mend. I’ll get Ophelia to come and talk to you.”
“Who’s Ophelia?” I said.
“Sanctuary is her town. She’ll be able to help explain…things.”
Well, that wasn’t vague at all.
I forced my eyes away from the man, and he seemed to get I was uncomfortable and backed away. But he didn’t want to. I saw it in the hang of his head, the line of his shoulders. He wanted…to be a part of this? To be close to me and Kade? What the actual fuck? He was a complete stranger. I’d learned his name minutes ago.
He is pack. He is your mate.
Oh, so we’re still on that, are we?
This is Sanctuary. We are home. He is pack.
And I apparently need an industrial strength anti-psychotic.
As if to confirm this, the black beast I’d seen back at home appeared at the foot of my bed, her green eyes taking in the newcomers who pushed past the curtain and stood beside her. She nodded her head and then winked out.
One of the women was tall, with a ramrod straight spine and a long tail of grey hair pulled back, while the other a woman was about the same age as me with a mane of dark brown hair, her hand going to her stomach in a way that suggested she might be pregnant. Brown hair smiled impishly at me, wiggling her fingers at Kade, but grey hair was apparently the spokesperson. Her smile, when it came, was slow, measured, but it still warmed her eyes.
“Welcome to Sanctuary, Flick. I am Ophelia and this is Jules.”
“So nice to speak to you finally,” Jules said, moving forward and holding out a hand. I shook it awkwardly, Kade curling up tighter against me. “Your head must be spinning, but you’re safe now, I promise.”
“Jules.”
Ophelia said her name gently, and the other woman stepped back with a smile on her face, but when the older woman turned back to me there was a…what? Expression of sadness, pity, concern? It was difficult to say.
“Flick, if possible, I’d like to talk to you about what brought you to Sanctuary. You don’t have to if you don’t want to…” She paused when she saw my mouth open, ready to tell that story right now. That was strange, having someone wait for me to reply, enough that it closed again. She nodded in response. “But I believe it might help the both of us. Jules is one of our newer residents. When I told her we had someone come from the outside, she was keen to come and meet you. It’ll just be a quick chat, or a long one, depending on what you want. The boys have set up an area just beyond the bed.” Peter got up and twitched the curtain to one side so I could see that an adjoining room, complete with TV and toys all over the floor. “You’ll be able to see Kade the whole time.”
I felt his arms tighten around my neck, making me rub my palm along his back.
“It’s OK, baby,” I said. “Have people here been looking after you?”
He nodded, about to say something, when I heard an imperious little voice.
“Kade? Are you here?”
A young girl with long black hair and the greenest eyes I’d ever seen strode in, the blond-haired man from the car at her heels.
“Kiralee! We’ve got to be…” he hissed, his voice falling away as he saw the two of us. He straightened, blinking a few times, as if unable to believe what he saw. “Oh, hi.”
“Kade, are we going to play with the action men again?” the little girl said, coming to the edge of the bed and completely ignoring me. “Kade?”
“Action figures,” came the muffled reply, his fingers slowly unwinding. “Hi, Kiralee.”
“Hello, Kade. Can we play now? Aidan made me wait until after I had breakfast, and my mother said it was OK.”
This earned her a snort from the man himself as he shook his head with a smile. The girl held out a hand to Kade, and I was shocked to see him take it. She pulled him down beside her, then drew him towards the room.
“My mother was treated badly as well, and she’s all better now. I told you she would be fine. Everyone gets better in Sanctuary.”
I shook my head, realising now I was sitting in front of four s
trangers in just a hospital gown. My fingers plucked at the sheet and then drew it up higher. This dislodged the blanket that had been draped across my legs, something that had the blond-haired man, Aidan, and Peter moving to pick it up. Aidan’s mouth twisted into a rueful smile, and he backed off, but Peter scooped it up in those massive hands and then moved closer, forcing me to look up, up to catch all of him as he laid it over the railing.
Jules watched the whole thing somewhat misty eyed, which was just weird.
“Look,” I said, trying to keep things calm but probably failing, “I really appreciate you looking after a complete stranger and her child, but I need to get going. People will be worried sick—”
“That’s what we’re worried about,” Ophelia said. “Someone determined enough to harm a woman and child like this is often determined enough to try and track you down. We want to protect you. No woman should ever have to go through what the two of you have obviously endured” —this drew growls from the two men— “but especially not in my town. Sanctuary was founded by women who had suffered like you have. We built it as a haven for women and the men who love them. You must…” Her voice was imperious, even as it trailed away. Her eyes dropped for a moment as she reconsidered what she was going to say. “We would very much like to help you. Please, Flick.”
I just stared at them all. Jules was all bright eyed and bushy tailed, like the idea excited her or something. Ophelia looked like she was running for president and the guys? Aidan stood like a soldier, with a kind of coiled intensity just waiting to be called upon. And Peter? His ham sized hands had balled into fists, the muscles in his forearms trembling with the effort of holding them back, something that curiously did not scare me.
He is pack, the voice inside me insisted. He will use those hands to strike our enemies, not us or the cub. He will fight to the last breath to protect our pack, pummel that useless excuse for an impregnator into a bloody smear on the ground.
And how, oh delusional thought construct, do you know that? He’s just as likely to snap my neck with those great big mitts of his.
No, he can’t. He is pack.
My little internal dialogue had created an embarrassing pause in the conversation, something I hoped I could pass off as trauma, but when I looked at the two women, their eyes had gone wide and staring, their eyes trailing over me, then to Peter, and stopped when they reached the bite on his neck, partially hidden by the collar of his shirt. You could have heard a pin drop while they studied it.
“Well, this complicates things,” Jules said with a sigh.
“Doesn’t it?” Ophelia said. “Now, Flick, tell me, when did you start seeing the wolf?”
6
I laughed, because that seemed as good a cover as any, but it came out loud and forced, cutting through the silence like a knife. And it convinced no one.
“Have you ever looked in the mirror when you see her?” Jules asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would I see a wolf in a hospital?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, going over to a set of drawers on one side of the room and ruffling through the contents. “I didn’t see mine until I changed, so you’re lucky.”
“Jules…” Ophelia said.
“What? She’s going to find out, anyway. Ah, this will do.” She pulled out a small circular mirror and then walked over to hand it to me. “Watch your eyes as I do this.”
I frowned, flinching internally back from the kaleidoscope of bruises on my face. I looked like I’d been through a meat grinder.
“Just focus on your eyes, nothing else,” she said as she walked with elaborate care towards Peter.
He stiffened, something that provoked an answering tension in me. Why? my brain asked, but it wasn’t in the driver’s seat. I ignored her order, the mirror still held out in front of my face, but largely disregarded as she got closer and closer to the man. Her previously easy going smile now seemed somewhat sadistic. He didn’t want her to do this, I could see it in his face. He eyed her like one would a rabid dog, wary and ready to bolt at any second.
“It’s OK,” she crooned to him. “I just need to prove a point.”
He fought the urge to pull away, his spine twisting as far as it would go without actually moving away. Her hand reached out, a shiver going through his body as her fingers broached the gap until…
“NO!” I snarled, the noise shocking me into silence. And when I looked up, wondering who the fuck had made that kind of sound, I saw it—my eyes, usually a washed out blue, flared bright green in the mirror. I just stared for a second, my reflection shaking as I did so, until I let it fall from limp fingers.
“Neurological damage… Need tests…”
Ophelia shook her head slowly, giving me a sad smile.
“No, my dear. You’re one of us.”
Out of the frying pan into the fire, I thought as I clawed at the bed sheets, struggling to get free of them. I hurt, my body resisting movement with everything it had, but move I must. I’d obviously landed in the headquarters of some weird arse cult that was going to ask me to sign away my life savings in return for a place on God’s spaceship out of this world.
“Kade…” I called, keeping my eyes on them, trying to dislodge the cables attached to me and openly ripping at them when that didn’t work.
“Flick, it’ll be OK.”
I froze for a moment, my head turning slowly when I heard Peter’s rumble. It was low and reassuring, and I felt the reverberations all the way through me, from head to toe.
Why does that work? I thought as I tried to amp up my blood pressure, but I could feel the tension leaching out, my pulse slowing. He came to the side of the bed, and I watched one hand wrap around the railing, but the other? It reached for me. So slow, I could have dodged it easily, but I didn’t. Somehow, I knew it would feel so good to have his hand on me, something that was confirmed when his hand went to my jaw. I felt like I nestled in the middle of his palm, sheltered, protected, waves of love and longing and need washing through me like the gentlest of tides. I took the longest breath out, like I was exhaling every held in scream, gasp, cry, all at once. I became boneless as the other hand stroked my hair back from my face, pain gone, awareness gone.
“I did tell you,” said someone.
“So you did. Goddess, it's real. He’s her mate.”
“So he is. This doesn’t happen often, usually only when the host is so severely threatened or deprived that the Tirian takes the wheel, but it's usually not successful. We remain human. We need to find our way towards a bonded relationship. I would have wished for better, for both of them.”
“Then let's find a way to make it better.”
I only opened my eyes when he slowly withdrew his hand. I almost whimpered at the loss, which should have told me something, but he softened the blow by standing beside my bed and holding my hand. I felt more clear-headed, able to see the audience I’d had for what felt like an insanely private moment, but the steady thrum coming from him was enough to keep me settled.
Ophelia nodded, as if acknowledging this, and then said, “Doc Hobbes has said you can leave here. We have a house set up for you and Kade…and Peter. If you wish.”
I felt his fingers tighten, then go limp. I looked up at him, my brain screaming at me, You’re going to shack up with another guy, days after braining your husband? Take a house in a town you haven’t even seen? With a bunch of people that think they see wolves as well? But his expression caught my attention more than anything. That slow, warm, regard was being hauled back, locked up tight behind a bland façade with no actual change to his face, except for one. The light had died in his eyes.
“It must seem incredibly rushed. It’s not how we like to do things here, but at the very least—” Ophelia said.
“He can help with the pain,” Jules interrupted. Her eyes shone with unshed tears, like somehow, this was more traumatic for her than me. “No one will push you to do anything you don’t want to, but, Flick,
he’s the only one right now that can take the pain away from you until you heal.”
I felt the slow swipe of his thumb over the back of my hand. It was completely ridiculous what they were proposing, but I couldn’t deny the proof. I felt like I’d taken some really good meds, but instead of being stoned, I just felt…
‘Good’ was too inadequate a word. I sat there, bruised and battered, and yet I carried this warm little spark inside me without the faintest of ideas as to where it came from. When I shot Peter a sidelong look and was met by the smallest of smiles, I knew he felt that too.
How?
So I asked.
Jules looked meaningfully at Ophelia, who sighed and nodded.
“This is the most difficult thing we need to cover.” She tipped her head to Aidan, who pulled the curtain, hiding us from the kids. I started to straighten, not sure what was coming but pretty sure I wouldn’t like it. Peter’s hands grew bolder, sandwiching mine between his palms, rubbing it back and forth.
“I’ll—” he said.
“I can do it.”
We all looked at Aidan, who stared back at the two of us. He glanced away and said, “If that’s what you want.”
“Of course,” Ophelia said. “Flick, Aidan is going to strip down now, but he won’t come any closer, I promise. You are safe.”
Well, if she meant that as reassuring, she’d failed. My eyes went wide as he tugged his shirt up over his head, revealing a very muscular chest with two wolf tattoos prowling over his shoulders. He watched me as his hand went to his jeans, then when I continued to stare, he turned his back, showing the room his back that was soon joined by two very pale buttocks. Kicking his clothes to one side, he…shivered? The movement was something like that and a vibration, but all I knew was one minute, there was a very naked guy, and the next, there was a massive grey wolf where he had stood.