Lara’s eyes drifted to the room where Elias lay under a curved panel that covered his body from neck to toe. “I’ve taken care of the life-threatening damage, but he had to wait so long his body went into shock. I won’t be sure of anything until he wakes.”
“You did everything you could,” Hawke said, knowing the words wouldn’t be enough, not for a healer. About to ask her to go into the office so they could talk privately—so she could drop her stoic front for a therapeutic minute—he saw someone unexpected walk out of Elias’s room.
Yuki flew into the infirmary at the same instant, stopping only long enough to whisper, “Thank you, Walker,” and brush her hand over the Psy male’s, before she entered the room where Elias lay unconscious.
Hawke knew Yuki had left to check that Sakura was fine with her grandparents, hadn’t realized Walker had stepped in to sit with the fallen soldier, though now that he thought about it, it wasn’t a surprise. He’d seen Elias and Walker talking more than once, noticed their girls playing together, realized that the two must have formed a friendship.
“Eli’s got Yuki watching over him,” Walker said to Lara, his intent gaze taking in the shadows under her eyes, the lines around her mouth. “The other injured are in a medicated sleep. You can’t do anything until they wake. Rest.”
Lara’s lips thinned. “I’m fine.” Folding her arms, she turned back to Hawke. “I’ll monitor them through the rest of the night—I need to make sure we didn’t miss any hidden damage.”
Hawke waited to see what Walker would do.
The other man folded his own arms and said, “Hawke, notice how she’s wavering on her feet?” in the most reasonable of tones.
Lara’s eyes flashed fire, but Hawke had to agree. “Take an hour—I’ll keep an eye on everyone,” he ordered, tugging her into an embrace and nuzzling a kiss into her hair. “Don’t be ornery just to piss Walker off.” His wolf didn’t know what was going on between the two, but there was no mistaking the tension.
A scowl marred those fine features. “Ornery?” But she softened in his embrace. “A rest does sound good. Wake me the instant anything changes.”
Hawke didn’t miss the way Walker watched them. Neither did he miss the fact that the tall Psy male followed Lara to her office, where she kept a sofa. Moving out of hearing range, he checked in on the injured, found Sienna sitting at Riordan’s bedside, her hand on his. “His mom started to cry so his dad took her out for a few minutes,” she said in a subvocal murmur, her eyes devoid of stars. “They didn’t want him to hear it in his sleep.”
He waited with her until Riordan’s parents returned. The couple allowed his wolf to give comfort to theirs, but he knew nothing would truly soothe them until their child woke. Leaving them with their hands touching Riordan’s skin in silent support, he intertwined his own fingers with Sienna’s.
Chapter 21
LARA FELT THE back of her neck prickle with awareness as the door shut with a quiet snick. Conscious her tiredness could undermine her resolve where Walker was concerned, she bought time by shrugging off the sweatshirt she’d pulled on over a faded pair of jeans after a two-minute shower to wash off the blood. Her wolf had been unhappy to leave the injured for even that long, but the doctor in her knew the value of cleanliness in a medical surrounding.
“Look,” she said at last. “I know we’re friends”—it physically hurt to say that in spite of the fact that she’d made the decision to accept the friendship, continue on with her life in every other way—“but I really would prefer to be alone.” A painful lie. She was a healer, a wolf. She loved being around her pack. But more, she needed to be around her man. Unfortunately, the man both woman and wolf had chosen was unable to give her what she needed—Silence and a stranger named Yelene had ruined the finest man Lara had ever known . . . and it appeared the damage was irreversible.
Sinking down on the sofa with that truth weighing down her already heavy heart, she bent to unlace her boots.
Dark blond hair threaded with the barest glimmer of silver filled her vision as Walker knelt to do the task. “Don’t,” she whispered, her defenses shattered by the events of the night, until she could no longer hide the ache in her soul, the empty space where he should’ve been.
He ignored her to undo the laces and remove her boots with quick, steady hands before tugging off her socks. She gave up trying to stop him, gave up trying to fight the need tearing her apart, and simply indulged in the sight of those strong shoulders below her, the fabric stretched taut over solid muscle.
A teacher, that’s what everyone said he’d been in the PsyNet. But Lara had always wondered if there was more to it—there was something about Walker that spoke of shadows, of hidden truths. Things she knew he’d never share. Not Walker.