In my incoherent dreams, I saw the black wolf, the one that I so admired in my wistful youth. Images sputtered and jumped from one to another. The past flashed by, in all of its horridly disappointing glory.
I’m still not sure if it was my guilty subconscious or really Raoul, but the scent of him was so real. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to sink my fingers into his soft fur. I’d curled up against that fur when the change was still so new and surreal. I couldn’t touch it, though; my fingers went right through him when I tried.
The pain of my broken heart far surpassed that of my battered body. In my unconscious state, I mourned the loss of the black wolf as surely as if it were the loss of some great part of me. How would I go on without him?
At some point, I had the vague sensation that I was held tight in loving arms. The scent of my white wolf soothed and lulled me into deeper sleep.
I’d shifted back to my human form. I had a moment of worry as I wondered where my clothing was, but soft material wrapped around me, and the thought vanished. I allowed the scent of Shaz to comfort me as I accepted the returning darkness.
When I finally awoke, with a blinding headache, I was safe in my own bed. Shaz held my arms pinned above my head so that I couldn’t lash out at Fox as he went about cleaning and stitching my wounds. Sheets covered my br**sts and pelvic region, but the rest of my lacerated body remained exposed.
The faint light of the approaching dawn cast a pretty, pink glow on Kylarai who sat at the foot of my bed. Her encouraging smile was a welcome sight.
I resisted the urge to fight off the two men that insisted on poking and prodding me. Fox was just doing what we paid him well to do, and Shaz was ensuring his safety as he did so. I let out a low moan as pain stabbed through my side. A white bandage was wound tightly around my ribs just below my br**sts. I hurt when I breathed.
Ky was injured but clearly ok, which made the agony more bearable.
“You may have a concussion. Take note of any extreme headaches, vomiting or dizziness over the next day or so.” Fox’s touch was as gentle as his soft, brown eyes. This wasn’t the first time he’d tended my wounds.
“Where’s Arys?” I coughed as the words stuck in my dry throat.
When Shaz was sure I’d behave, he released my arms and handed me a glass of water from the night table. He frowned in response to my words, but I wanted to know.
“It’s sunrise,” Kylarai’s gentle voice was soothing. “He spent the last few hours cleaning up at Raoul’s. He said he’d take care of everything. No worries.” Though she directed a smile at me, her grey eyes went to Shaz in apology.
“There we go.” Fox gave a tug on the final stitch, and my stomach turned at the sensation. “No shifting for three days. You should be well enough by then.”
“Thank you, Fox,” I whispered, reaching out to accept the fuzzy blanket that Shaz drew up over me.
Fox rose to leave but paused on the threshold to the hallway. His cheeks flushed, and his eyes were downcast. “I’m sorry about Raoul. This is all very unfortunate. Call me if you need anything else at all.” Before we could reply, he ducked out of the room. His feet scuffed down the hall in his hurry to leave.
Ky made as if to follow him, but Shaz motioned for her to stay seated as he followed Fox to the front door.
“How do you feel?” I asked when we were alone. “I was worried.”
She laughed softly then winced in pain. “You were worried? This is just a flesh wound. I hear you challenged the patio door.”
“It challenged me.” I fussed with the pillow at my back, careful not to move too fast. The thought of ripped stitches was creepier than stitches in general.
“Lex,” she touched my ankle through the blanket. “What happened with Raoul … it’s not your fault.” Was my self-blame so common that it was now expected?
If I closed my eyes, I could see the ebony wolf running to take down my attacker before he could steal my innocence away. I saw him as the hero that he’d been to me as a teenage girl, a blossoming woman.
The truth was, I had indeed given myself to him, my reward to the prince who’d rescued me. It was my own youthful naivete that led to my first heartbreak. I had expected a fairytale romance, and he’d been a werewolf. He acted on instinct and accepted my gift.
I confessed none of this. I accused him of manipulating and taking advantage of me because I’d never been able to deal with being nothing more than a bedmate to him. My childish picket fence dream had gone up in smoke. It wasn’t meant to be, or at least, not for me.
But ultimately, that hadn’t been Raoul’s fault. He was the most selfish man that I knew, but he had died willingly. The paradox made my brain throb.
I accepted the hand that Ky extended to me. “I just wish we’d cleared the air.”