Oh God, the house. The oak.
Alastor. His demon sidekicks. His angel-esque girlfriend.
“Nick?” Again, a thousand questions and no way to ask them.
“Fourteen months?” I start with the timeline. “That doesn’t make sense.” I shake my head, look down to my feet. Covered by a blanket. My legs are thin. I shoot my arms straight out in front of me. They are boney. Skeletal.
That’d be normal for anytime of starvation. Dehydration.
But fourteen months? I shake my head. It’s just not possible.
“What about Justice?” My voice cracks on the question. I have to know if anyone else knows what she is.
“You’ll be able to talk to her. Soon. Grayson is here too. I’ll let them know you’re awake.” He tenses.
“Wait. Nick.” I don’t know what I want to say to him. There’s a million and one words running through my mind. The least of which is what’s happening?
“Please.” I lift my eyes to him. “You tell me straight. What’s going on.”
He runs a hand through his hair. The blond looks the same as it did at dinner all those weeks ago. Streaks of gray that give him strength. Steel colored among the wheat. He’s forever frozen at forty. And god help me - why is it that is his prime? He could have had a beer belly. A dad-bod. Time could’ve made him anything, but he is the perfect male specimen.
He crosses his arms and leans against the door. Good. I don’t want to see Gray. I want more time to process. I want more time with Nick. Even though he seems on edge.
“We’re at war. The other side snatched you and dumped you in a silo in Montana.”
The other side. The other side. The other side. Why does that sound so familiar?
I rub my temples trying to understand. Trying to recall.
Flashes of the darkness. Flashes of my hands in the dirt. My paws.
Banging against the metal. Digging at the base hoping to dig beneath it. Howling my anguish at losing the moon. Losing. Losing. I’m always losing.
I grip my head on the sides, determined not to go back to what happened in the darkness. How mad I became. How I committed suicide. And yet. I’m still here.
I shouldn’t be here. I died! I was going to be with Selene.
A tear leaks out the corner of my eye. I release my head and put my hands in my lap.
“Tell me about how you became a lone wolf.” I demand. I need some facts other than the ones about me.
“Does it matter?” He replies.
I close my eyes at his refusal. Does it matter? I don’t know. What’s the purpose of any of this?
Does he know about what I am? The complete me? The berserk me?
I shrug my shoulders. I’ll let him keep his secret for now.
I’ll ask Gray. Or Locke.
“I’ll be back with your sister.”
“And answers.” I order as he leaves out the door.
A few seconds tick by. I lay my head back on my pillow and close my eyes. Take stock of what my body feels like.
The door snicks open.
My sister. Justice.
She smiles tentatively. There’s tears glistening in her eyes.
When she embraces me, awkwardly due to the IV in my arm, I smell the scent of her. Of home. But mixed with something else. Someone else.
When I make the connection I ask the question. “Locke?”
She pulls back, not meeting my eyes. She tucks the blanket around my waist. Checks the IV read out. Fusses over me even though I am the older sister.
She sniffs. “When I lost you, and then Indy, I…”
“I’m not mad.” I shake my head, trying to understand this new development too. “I’m just so confused.”
I grab her hand to stop her ministrations. To get her to look me in the eye.
“What the hell is going on Justice? Where are we and where is Indy? What do you mean you ‘lost’ her? She’s not at Gray’s?”
The tears well up even more in her blue eyes. I swear I see the sadness swirl in them.
“She’s been gone almost four months. She took off…”
More information to process. Independence has gone M.I.A.
“She’s just a kid!” My words come out raspy. All this talking is drying out my vocal cords. They’ve been unused for a year. With the exception of howling for my moon. But don’t remember that now. Focus. Answers.
“There’s so much more, Glory! I need to tell you, but I’m afraid they’re going to whisk you away before I have a chance.” She glances furtively to the door.
Our hands still linked. She leans against the bed railing.
I swallow, lubricating my vocal cords with saliva. “Who’s they?!” I ask. I don’t like this at all.
“Gray. Locke. Nick. They’re part of some undercover...group.” She whispers. She squeezes my hand. I know she wants me to understand.
“They’re the good guys. We’re the good guys.” She assures me.
I swallow again. Close my eyes. I can feel the truth in her words. She believes it. And she knows about us. About what we turn into.
“Are we?” I ask her.
Her eyes narrow the tiniest bit, her brow furrows.
“Justice.” How can I state the truth out there? It shattered my world. Acknowledging it will change everything between us. Can I do that to her?
“Our mother.” That’s all I get out. Justice’s life was so different from mine. She was six when our ‘father’ died. How much does she remember of him? Does she - did she - share the same fondness for him that I did?
“It’s too dangerous for us to be together. Because of what we are…” She trails off.
Does she mean female wolves or berserkers?
“We’ll talk about it all soon.” She squeezes my hand one last time.
The door opens and we both turn to it. It’s Locke. Nick follows on his heels.
“We’re in Montana. Just outside Big Sky. At the council headquarters.” Justice switches to a less conspiratorial tone.
Locke smiles at us, comes to my bedside. Smoothly kisses my cheek and picks up Justice’s free hand; turning her attention from me to him.
“Not looking too bad for a dead girl.” Locke says.
His words are too on point, and I shift my eyes from him without an answer.
Nick rounds the end of the bed and resumes his post by my feet.
Face stoic. Arms crossed.
My heartbeat accelerates, and embarrassingly enough, there’s a monitor beeping it out loud for everyone to hear. I hadn’t noticed I was attached to it before. I dip a hand down the collar of the gown and pull the suction cup from the top of my chest.
Nick raises an eyebrow.
I raise one back at him. I can do what I want.
Are you sure? He fires back telepathically.
“Glory. You shouldn’t mess with your monitors.” Justice chides, but takes it upon herself to flip the monitor off. Wind up the cord and tuck it away.
“We’ll be back in a bit. Get you some food, get you out of bed.” She nods to Locke and hand-in-hand they leave.
I don’t like that she’s in some sort of secret alliance with them.
Cement her loyalties to us. Gray’s voice in memory drifts through my head. Seems that he succeeded. Have I lost another sister?
The potentiality of it doesn’t seem to evoke any feelings from me. I’ve dealt with loss so much. It’s just nature. The nature of Life.
Switching my gaze from my lap to the only other occupant in the room, I cough a little at the strain in my throat. I’m tiring. That I can feel.
I search his eyes, unsure of what to say.
Mrs. Faoláin. His eyes seem to speak.
Don’t call me that. I haven’t ever felt married. Not in a traditional sense. No, Gray and I share a business contract for all the love in our marriage. We thought we could build upon respect and mutual gain. But it never built. Never changed to more.
Tell me about what happened before you were captured
. He ignores my annoyance.
I can’t. You’ll be disgusted. You’ll be...turned off.
I can take it. I’ll always take you for whomever you are. What ever you are. It’s only truly bad if you surrender yourself. If you give in. Fight. Fight for you. Fight for Glory.
I’ve never. I’ve always gone with the flow. Did what was asked of me. No human is worthy of you. Good girls go to heaven. Slutty girls go to hell. How could my mother say such things when she was...well the nicest word I have for her now is hypocritical.
Tears threaten.
You don’t know what I am! I scream in my mind. I’m tainted.
Tainted or powerful? His eyebrow raises in question again.
All this in a matter of seconds. A silent exchange.
Great. I’m truly mad. Having entire conversations in my head with a person standing right in front of me. We are at an impasse, no words actually spoken.
I close my eyes. I’m so weary. The mental and emotional rollercoaster has taken its toll.
Feeling with my soul. Feeling with my intuition. Or attempting too. But my brain is still trying to process all the information I’ve been given. Round and round it goes. Settling on the enigma in front of me. His scent. His scent was real when I thought it was ferrying me to the other side.
“You were there at the last.” I whisper the words, but know he hears them.
“Yes.”
I open my eyes. “Why?”
The door opens again. It’s Grayson. And he strides straight to my bedside.
At the sight of him, my reaction surprises the hell out of me. Tears pour out of my eyes, my nose instantly filling with mucus. Ugly cry.
His familiar face is covered by a beard, his hair long and held back in a man-bun. He’s gone full wild. A tattoo of some kind is peeking out the collar of his shirt.
He crosses immediately to me, and enfolds me in his arms. I hiccup and try to breath.
I’m happy to see him. But I think the majority of what I’m feeling is the realization that I’ve lost a total year of my life. Maybe more. So much has changed in such a short amount of time. The proof is in his appearance.
The clamorous clatter of metal hitting the floor has me pulling out of Gray’s embrace.
The metal tray of the bedside table is on the floor, the cup that was on top of it overturned.
Nick is facing away from us, his shoulders and stance wide. Head tipped up to the ceiling.
“Something wrong, Sutton?” Gray steps back from the bed, widening his own stance and gripping the bed rail.
The air seems to thicken with apprehension. I’m keenly aware of the awkwardness of the situation. My ex-one-time-lover and my husband in the same room together?
But only Nick and I know what’s behind us. So he’s creating the tension in the room.
Think. Think. Think. I’ve got to diffuse the situation, but their testosterone is choking the words in my throat.
“No, Faoláin.” He spins on his foot and marches to the door. With his hand on the handle he turns to us and offers a parting shot. “Maybe keep a better leash on your wife next time.”
He slams the door behind him. More tears well up in my eyes. Well. That was...extremely unnecessary. I can’t identify the exact cause of the tears, as so many emotions are swirling through my body.
Shame. Embarrassment. Hurt. Loss. Anger.
When I pull my eyes from the closed door, they meet Gray’s. I can’t read what’s behind them, and that throws me even more off kilter. I’ve lived with this man for fourteen years. And I have no idea who he is.
He blows out a breath and shakes his head. Pushes off the railing and taps the folded papers in his hand against his thigh. He isn’t mad or angry. Contrarily, he looks at me with pity. I don’t like it.
He unfolds the paper in his hands. Holds it out to me.
I take it. Petition for dissolution of marriage.
My eyes swing back up to his. “Divorce?” I ask, stunned.
He nods his head once in the affirmative.
“And…” His thumb and index finger shuffle the pages at the corner. He finds what he is looking for. Slides out the paper behind, bringing it to the front.
“An employment contract?” I don’t understand at all.
“Yes. We can talk about that a little later. First…” He taps the marriage contract.
I lift my eyes from the paper. The words are blurring together. A year in darkness. I’ll need a little bit of time to work the ‘ole eyeballs back into shape.
I rub my eyes. Pull the paper in, then out attempting to focus on the text.
“I’m sorry, Grayson. I can’t read it.”
“I should have thought of that. Take your time.” He pulls a pen out of his back pocket and gives me a slight bow as he offers it to me.
I take the pen and set it by my thigh.
I give him a half-smile in return. He returns with a sad half-smile of his own.
What I feel, what tumbles through my heart is affection. Of the brother-sister kind.
Grayson has always looked out for me.
“I’m glad your alive.”
“Me too.” The lie is automatic. Am I? I’ve been bombarded with so much since waking up.
At the bottom of my soul, a tiny light flickers. A tiny flame of hope. I have no doubt in my mind who the last little bit of hope belongs too. Because he’s still alive. An he’s a wolf now, and that hope, that’s what kept me alive.
“Grayson. What’s going on? Where’s Indy?”
The smile slips from his face, and is replaced by a flat set of lips.
“She’s fine. She’s with…” He trails off and squeezes his fist.
“Justice said she left four months ago?” I rub my forehead trying to process. Who’s lying here? Justice said she was missing? And Gray says she’s fine. I close my eyes and let my head hit the pillow. Using my neck muscles to hold my head up is tiring.
“You misunderstood your sister. We know exactly where Indy’s at. Do you really think we’d let one of our own go unprotected?”
I shake my head, knowing what he says is the truth. They’d never let one of us live in the world unprotected.
“Just rest, Glory. Gain your strength back. I’ll come by to check on you in a bit.”
Chapter 21
I start with the divorce papers. Read through them while Justice sets up a tray with oatmeal, toast and Jell-o.
When Gray left last night, I fell asleep promptly, only to be woken by my sister with breakfast this morning.
It seems like a standard set of legal work for divorce. Including a generous alimony. I’ll probably sign off on this without a qualm. What’s the point of fighting it?
I rub my forehead. I just don’t know where to go from here. There’s obvious tears in the fabric of my life. Deep emotional rips that have been held together by safety pins and glue. How can I go forth and sew it all back together?
And what does this other side mean to me? Mean for me? My future? I can’t just pretend I didn’t meet the devil and his queen. And that my father is part of the underworld.
My stomach growls even though I’m scooping out the last bit of my oatmeal.
“When can I have a cheeseburger?” I ask Justice. The meal, as sad as it is, tastes like heaven. I’m not entirely ravenous, but I miss food. The textures of ooey-gooey melty cheese. Pizza. A glass of wine.
“Probably in a day or two. We just need to make sure you can keep food down. We’ve been giving you nourishment - calories, carbs, proteins - through the tube for three days. Fluids through the IV. Honestly, I just took your catheter out yesterday morning, when I saw your heart rate was up. I knew you were going to wake soon.”
I cringe inwardly. My sister has no boundaries. But she says it with the delivery of clinical directness. She’s in her element. The body. I know she’d have made a great doctor. She’s smart. Maybe a touch passionate about the science - losing some warmth to her fascination and curiosity of the human bo
dy.
Human. That gives me pause.
“Justice. Have you ever studied our…”
“Only my own blood under a microscope. I’d have liked to do more, but the labs are always under surveillance. Tests cost money, create trails of paperwork, and I didn’t want to risk...anything.” She shrugs her shoulders.
She takes the empty bowl of food from me and sits it on the table. Shakes out the t-shirt and pajama pants she also brought.
“Right. Let’s take out the IV. Then get you vertical. Up for a walk to the bathroom?”
She’s all business. Of course I’m up for a walk to the bathroom. I want a shower. Feels like I’ve been sponge-bathed. And I probably have been. My scalp feels itchy.
IV out, Band-Aid on, I swing my legs over and put my feet down on the polished concrete floor.
I make it to the doorway of the connected bathroom, but Justice is practically holding me up. I have to lean on her more and more with each step. My muscles are just...not there.
“Don’t freak out when you see the mirror.” Justice says just before we step in.
“Why would I freak out?” Then I see it.
My reflection. Sheesh. I am a skeleton. Skin over skull. Matted hair. I suck in a breath.
“I’m positive you’ll gain the weight back rather quickly.” Justice soothes.
“You’re skin is already taking on a much better color…”
I put a hand to my razor cheek bones. The sunken eye sockets.
“I’m hideous! What color was my skin?”
She pulls me gently over to the toilet and pushes me down onto the closed seat lid.
“Gray.” She reaches into the shower enclosure and turns the knob, putting a hand under it to feel the temperature. She turns back to me, pulling down the sleeve of the gown.
“I can do it.” I’m not so far gone that I have to be undressed.
“Can you make it to the seat in there by yourself?” She points to the bench in the shower.
“Yes.” I look down at my body. “Oh my God.”
“You’ll gain it back. Don’t worry. We’ll get some calories and fat and protein into you and you’ll bounce right back.”
My ribs, I can count each and every one of them. My legs are just bones, my abdomen, concave flesh. And my boobs! They are nothing but sagging bits of flesh.
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