by Godiva Glenn
Even though Mikos had to redress the wound, she’d never looked down. The thought terrified her. Her arm looked like a failed quilting experiment. Her abdomen had to be worse. She cringed, wondering if they’d needed to put her intestines back in. Mikos had said something on the lines of “nearly gutted” but that could have been an exaggeration. Maybe it was no more than a messy surface wound.
“Stop it,” Mikos called through the door.
Kyra dropped her shirt back down and spun, placing her hands on the sink in surprise. “Huh?”
“I know you’re thinking of lifting that bandage, and you know it’ll do nothing but increase your heal time.”
She glared at the door. “No, I’m using the bathroom, and you’re being a creep and listening in.”
“I am a creep, and I am listening. All I’ve heard is you messing with your shirt. If I’d heard anything else, I’d walk away.”
Grumbling, she shoved her pants down and sat on the toilet. “Happy now?”
No response came. She squinted at the sliver of light beneath the door but couldn’t tell if he’d left. Not like I can pee now.
After a few minutes, she slipped from the bathroom, looking both ways down the hallway before sneaking into the kitchen. She’d seen Ross mixing up a new batch of the lemon tea the night before and he’d made too much. The excess was waiting in a mug and she took it to her room. Mikos was sitting on the floor, waiting for her.
“Did you need something?” she asked.
“No. Just bored.” She sipped the cold medicinal drink.
“You don’t have to stay here. It’s not like you can’t walk back to your place. You aren’t me. You don’t collapse if you walk more than a few feet.”
“You’re exaggerating. The other night you walked at least a hundred, against all sanity and advice.” He leaned back on his arms. “I come and go. I’d simply rather be here to make sure Thea doesn’t lock you out.”
The excuse was flimsy but not worth arguing. He was avoiding the pack and it was easy to guess why. They’d be upset if they found out he was helping her. She was grateful for him but didn’t overlook the fact that he would still have to abandon her the second she returned.
She sat on a stack of boxes in the corner. “Even if you want to stay around the cabin, you don’t have to hide back here.”
“Are you that opposed to the company, or is it me?”
The room seemed to shrink, waiting for her answer. She stared at the wooden floor, unable to look him in the eyes.
“Honestly? I don’t know which is worse, the actual gut wound or the stabbing sensation I get from speaking with you. I’ve wanted to talk to you, to simply stand close to you, even, for so long. But what’s the point? Our situation hasn’t changed. I’m still doomed to leave the pack. You still don’t love me.”
She winced as the last part left her lips. She hadn’t meant for her hurt to slip out. Her fingers wrapped around her cup and she held it as if it had comfort to give.
He stood and crossed the room to lean against a table overflowing with dusty empty jars. Crossing his arms, he sucked in a deep breath and seemed to be fighting a battle in his mind. His dark brows furrowed and twitched, and finally, he met her stare.
“I never knew what to say,” he said. “It’s not like we could have pretended nothing happened. Then it seemed like you gave up so quickly.”
“Gave up? You’re going to blame me?” she asked sharply.
“You didn’t want to talk to us either. Do you even remember that? You pitied yourself and slunk away.”
“What could I have done?” She wanted to laugh at his absurdity. “Everyone flipped on me overnight. I had to stay with the kids while everyone else shifted. The next morning no one could even look me in the eyes. Why was it my job to stand around and endure it?”
He looked at the ceiling, shaking his head. “What you could have done was to not accept it. Show some damned backbone. You could have tried to appeal to Ian, let him know you weren’t giving up. You could have proven yourself to be a lupine.”
“No, I couldn’t have.” She scoffed. “You’re just scrambling for excuses for this to be all on me.”
“No, I’m wondering where your strength was,” he said quietly. “Your family used to lead the Sarka pack, not but four generations ago. Yet somehow all their wisdom and fire passed you over. And you wonder why people found it so easy to let you go? They say the ancestors aren’t with you and have you ever tried to dispute that?”
Kyra stood, anger flushing her face and summoning tears she refused to shed in front of Mikos. True, Ian had never made an official ruling on Kyra’s status within the pack. The pack shunned her by choice, but it was a unanimous choice.
The pathetic part was that had Kyra not been on this side of the gossip, she suspected she would’ve been right along with the rest. Shunning and pointing fingers at someone unfortunate. She knew and didn’t need him rubbing it in. “If I’m so terrible, and such a disappointment, why do you bother spending time with me? Why do you help me and why do you act like we could be friends again?”
She didn’t wait for an answer, slamming her mug down before rushing from the room. She ran past Thea and Ross in the living room and headed out into the woods. The ache of her heart surpassed the pain of her flesh. Doesn’t Mikos understand that his condemnation hurts the most?
* * * *
To Mikos’s credit, he gave Kyra time to calm down before seeking her out. By the time he found her, she’d been away for over an hour. Beneath the throbbing ache of seeping wounds, her stomach growled. She knew it was unlikely she could walk back to her place, but she was tempted to try.
She was seated with her back against a massive pine tree when he joined her. Not saying a thing, he put his back to the tree and slid down. Settled to her right, he sighed and wriggled as if he were making himself comfortable. But there was nothing comfortable about this particular tree, and he knew it.
The bark poked through her shirt, scratching her back. The ground was littered with dead needles and twigs. And everything was wet from a recent downpour. She’d only stopped because she was dizzy and in pain, and she didn’t have the energy to find a less uncomfortable spot to rest.
“If you want me to be strong, you could stop rescuing me,” she said finally.
“I’m not here to rescue you. You aren’t in any immediate danger.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
“Your problem is that you not only can’t see the world from anyone else’s eyes but that you don’t care to,” he stated.
“Wow.” She banged her head back against the tree and exhaled in exasperation. “And your problem is that you literally would stalk me to the middle of the woods to tell me my flaws as if I don’t already know them.”
He growled and shot out his hand, taking hers and squeezing it. “No. My flaw is that I have several years’ worth of conversations I want to have with you, but I get so damn frustrated that I can’t...” He took a deep breath. “I’m trying to figure out if you’ve changed for real, or if it’s no more than my own wishful thinking.”
“What do you mean changed?” she asked annoyed.
His thumb swept over the back of her hand, warming her. “You know what I mean. You were spoiled and bratty, and I was an all-around fool. I’m not who I was anymore, at least I hope not.”
“Why does it even matter if I’ve changed?”
“Because I feel like you have. Grown. And I’ve wondered about it for a while, and it makes me angry for wasting time. I know I fucked up, Kyra. But you were my best friend, you really were.”
“Right. The person that I was back then. I don’t think I had real friends,” she muttered.
“You did. Lupine intuition, I guess. Even at your worst, I saw the best in you. I couldn’t love you, but I still wanted you in my life. Not just me. Others too. You should know that. You say you understand why we couldn’t keep you around, why we had to cut ties... if you get that, then you sho
uld at least know the truth. You still have friends.”
The quiet stillness of the forest swelled. Nothing Mikos said made sense. She took her hand from his and pushed off the tree, crawling on the ground to sit on her feet, facing him.
“What do you mean? You mean you and others go about your days ignoring me, but in secret, you think we’re friends?”
“In a way, yes.”
“That’s not how it works,” she said through gritted teeth. “And all the warm feelings you must have right now, as if you’re giving me good news, it’s a lie. A fake layer of comfort you wrap yourself in to stave off the guilt.”
“I don’t think you really mean that,” he insisted.
“More of your amazing insight?”
He leaned forward and met her eyes with a serious stare. “We didn’t give up on you. Don’t give up on yourself. You said you could still change. I’m telling you that we’re waiting for you to—counting on you, even. Doesn’t that help?”
“What would help more is if I hadn’t been alone for the past three years!” She stood too quickly, and dizzying sensation and the pain that shot through her abdomen nearly knocked her over. Her hand flew to her mouth, the whirling discomfort leaving her nauseated.
Mikos caught her, having leaped to his feet between blinks. “Don’t hurt yourself, come on now.”
“Let me go,” she muttered through clenched teeth.
“Laurel said she checked with you the other day. She said you looked fine. Actually, she said you seemed more upbeat than you had been in a while,” he said releasing her carefully.
Laurel? Kyra sucked in deep breaths, slowly regaining a clear head. Once she no longer felt like she’d vomit and fall over, she looked up at him. “I don’t understand,” she admitted. “We barely spoke.”
“Between you being... unreadable, and the majority of the pack pushing for you to be removed, it’s not easy to be in touch with you.”
Kyra thought back to that day when she ran into Laurel on the way to town. She hadn’t questioned what Laurel was doing so close to her trailer, but she had noticed that Laurel seemed to be looking at her funny. Reading my mood?
Heart racing, Kyra backed away from Mikos. In a way, if he was being sincere, it meant that if she found her wolf, she had more than simple acceptance to look forward to. She’d have a part of her old life back.
But did she want to go back to that?
SIX
Kyra stared at the ceiling, her hand resting lightly over her bandaged stomach, which itched with an intensity that made her want to scream.
At least she had privacy.
After their last discussion, Mikos had helped her back to her room and left her alone. She still wasn’t sure how to feel about his claim or his accusations, for that matter. One thing was certain, however. They weren’t the same as they once were.
Growing up they never fought—at least not once she’d gotten over being a little kid. Generally, she went along with whatever he said. He’d explain traditions to her, and she’d accept them. He’d tell her how the world worked, and she believed him.
On that count, he was right. She shouldn’t have loved him. Which meant that the one thing she’d held on to for all these years was a lie. Her love for him was the fuel she used when trying to find her wolf. She felt like an idiot. No wonder she was still trapped in human form. Her wolf probably wanted nothing to do with her.
She tapped her fingertips over her tingling stomach and groaned. If she could call her wolf, she would be healed, instead of relying on her human side. Even at the accelerated pace, the injury would last forever, it seemed.
Sitting up, she looked out the window. If yesterday was any indicator, she couldn’t leave here yet. It was going to be a while before she could travel, and it was her own fault. She’d veered past headstrong, right into insanity. She’d lost days of recovery time, if not more, by running like a petulant child.
The sun had already set. She’d wasted an entire day hiding out and feeling sorry for herself. Proving Mikos right again. Whatever fight and passion ran through her veins was dormant.
Sure, she had moments of tenacity, but she’d never fought being shunned. She never argued it past crying to her parents to stay in their home. How was anyone supposed to know that she hadn’t given up when it certainly appeared that way from the outside?
The door opened just as she stood, and Mikos entered holding the familiar jar of medicine.
“I was actually about to go looking for you,” she said sitting back down.
He squatted by her, taking her offered arm. “I knew you wanted time alone, but we don’t want anything to dry out.”
She didn’t say anything. The itching was technically a sign that her stomach was drying out. Instead of leaving her room and finding the salve, she’d remained alone. For no reason aside from her own twisted emotions.
Part of her was ready to move on, part of her figured her past-self needed more punishment. And ultimately, she didn’t want to face another lecture from Mikos.
He re-bandaged her arm and she lay back, so he could check her midsection.
“Does it still hurt when you move too fast?” he asked gently pulling the bandages loose.
“When I stand, yes. Or if I turn without thinking. Or you know... when I breathe.”
“Did you sleep well?”
She shrugged, watching him tend to her wound with the utmost focus. “I was sore, but it was fine. I was exhausted.”
“Running off yesterday didn’t help.”
“I know.”
“It was really stupid. Your health should be your first concern.”
“Then don’t pick fights,” she muttered.
He pursed his lips as he spread the brown medicine. The itching faded nearly instantly, replaced by a tickle. She turned her face and closed her eyes as she smiled and fought laughter.
“That’s a good sign,” he said pulling his fingers away.
“Hmm?”
He stroked the side of her wound, once again causing her body to tremble. “It’s not numb. That’s a good sign.”
“I was never ticklish there before,” she pointed out.
“I know. Still, a good sign,” he promised as he wrapped a fresh cloth over her. “This is a slightly different mixture. It should help with the pain, but it won’t last too long.”
“I think it’s already working.”
“It’ll do that. But like I said, it won’t last long, and it certainly doesn’t mean you can go running off again. You’re not getting any more of that tea until you realize it doesn’t make you invincible.”
“Fine. I guess I can understand that.” She took a deep breath and sat up carefully. “Are you done reminding me of what a brat I used to be?”
“That depends,” he replied, arching a serious brow at her. “Are you finally willing to admit what a ridiculous ass I used to be?”
“That’s a weird response.” She carefully crossed her legs, making room for him to sit near her on the tiny mattress. “But yeah. I see your point. We were stupid, and we thought we knew everything.”
“And now?”
“And now... I don’t know. Even if my perspective has changed, my situation hasn’t.”
“Then don’t worry about that,” he insisted.
Kyra rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her tangled black curls. “Ignore the biggest problem I face?”
“That’s not what I meant. Maybe you would be at peace with not focusing on us. Instead of trying to rejoin the pack, maybe you need to find yourself.”
“That’s what I’ve been doing,” she said, exasperated. The revelation that she was using the wrong motivation aside, her wolf was her priority. She didn’t care about rejoining the pack. They were a means to an end. She needed the land and the ancestors to find her wolf. After that… well, she wasn’t entirely sure.
That part of the plan was still changing. She didn’t tell him, though. She wasn’t sure what he’d say, but she imagined
he wouldn’t be happy with it. It wasn’t his choice, and she didn’t need his opinion. Rising to her feet, she paced to the window.
He followed her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I’m not trying to repeat myself, but no, you haven’t. If you weren’t thinking about who you were inside, you couldn’t find yourself.”
She tried to take his words at face value and not search for underlying insult. His touch was warm and sent soothing currents through her body. There was no purpose for him to have his hands on her, except to comfort her, and she had forgotten what that was like.
Any time they got close it was harder for her to maintain her resolve. Maybe there was no love between them, but there was something. Whatever that something was, she welcomed it. But it couldn’t last.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“If solitude was a remedy, I’d have overcome my curse by now,” she said with a sigh, then peered at him. Something about the way he spoke made her suspicious. “How long do you think I’ll be here?”
“Sometimes a secondary injury makes the initial one take longer to heal.” He glanced to her midsection. “You tore the stitches. I’m surprised you’re not in agony right now, but there’s not much about this situation that I’m familiar with. I’m not exactly a healer.”
“How long? An estimate?”
“When you first arrived, Ross thought a few weeks. Which, like I said, still quick for being an unshifted lupine outside of a hospital setting.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “And longer now?” She could only imagine how this looked to the pack. She was weak. Sierra must be gloating. “I can’t sit around here. I’ll go crazy.”
“But there’s good news in there. Ross speculates that your healing is tied to the moon, even if your wolf is hiding. You healed faster in the first few days. By the time the next one clears the sky, I bet you’ll be done.”
“Can you be away that long?”
“Worry about yourself.”
There was little to worry about with herself, though. All she could do was heal and return to what she had, which wasn’t much. “I wonder if you forget how to actually put yourself in my shoes. For all your words, have you considered the real consequences here?”