Ryder sighed. “She said she was alone,” he whispered. “I don’t know if she even meant to say it aloud, but she cried it. Wouldn’t someone with a coven to call home not be alone? I don’t know if the Coven had anything to do with it, but I just have a feeling we should stay silent about it until Leah wakes.”
Gideon nodded. “I agree.” With that, his brother began the next bit of business, and Ryder kept one ear on it while he went into himself. His wolf needed to run, needed to breathe. But he couldn’t do that, not with Leah so close…and he didn’t know why he even thought that. Why was she so important?
His body ached. His wolf ached.
His wolf wanted her. Wanted her as his mate.
And he would never have that. He couldn’t.
The voices in his head grew in number, and he barely held himself in check, barely held back the whimper. It was the voices of the dead, those who had passed, those who had left this earthly realm.
They called for him. Called for help. Called for death.
He couldn’t have the witch. Not with who he was.
But maybe he could help her.
Because that’s what he did.
He helped.
Nothing more.
Chapter Three
This time when Leah woke, she didn’t fight back, didn’t scream at the lights overhead. Instead, she slowly opened her dry eyes and stared at the ceiling. She remembered where she was this time. She hadn’t forgotten, hadn’t pushed aside the pain and tried to ignore the agony that lay within.
Instead, the anguish churned inside her, an ever-present part of her soul she wasn’t sure would ever fade away. She didn’t know if she wanted it to. Because if she let go, if she ever thought of her life without this pain, then Roland would be gone forever.
Her side still ached, but not quite as much as it had before. She remembered the fiery pain now, the way she’d fallen. She remembered it all.
Of course, that meant she remembered the way she’d fallen into Ryder’s arms and broken down. She didn’t even know the man, and yet she had used him as her crutch, her salvation. She honestly wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
“You’re awake.”
She stiffened only for a moment at the baritone voice before turning her head to look at the man sitting comfortably in a rocking chair next to the wall. He had a book in his lap and reading glasses on the tip of his nose. She didn’t know if wolves truly needed reading glasses with their enhanced senses, but she had to admit, the look suited him.
“Walker, right?” she asked, her voice hoarse. She cleared her throat and licked her dry lips and tried to ignore the odd sense of disappointment she felt that it wasn’t Ryder looking over her. She didn’t understand her fascination with that man, and to be honest, it bothered her. She wasn’t a wolf, but a witch. Witches didn’t have fated mates and instant connections like shifters did. She only had her powers to tell her if she would find someone her soul could be happy with. And even then, it was on the wolf to provide the mating bond.
She coughed, this time harder and in rapid succession at the track her thoughts had taken. What the hell was wrong with her? Mates? Fate? She didn’t believe in all of that, not for her. She was nothing. Just a witch with no home and not enough power since she could never fully stop to train. She was too busy running for her life. There had been nothing more, nothing less than that.
Maybe she’d hit her head when she’d been shot. That could explain the idea of mates and all the crap that had nothing to do with her swirling in her mind. Her side burned as she coughed and she put her hand over her mouth, trying to control herself.
Walker set his book on the table beside him as well as his glasses and hurried toward her. Well, if you could call the way he prowled a hurry. The man looked as if he were on a leisurely stroll, yet still moved quickly.
He held out a cup of water to her then slowly moved her hand away from her mouth. At his touch, she noticed the IV attached to her hand.
“Drink this,” he drawled. “I have you on a saline drip since you needed fluids.”
She greedily gulped the water down, quenching her parched throat. Her magic flexed, and she let out a sigh when she lowered the cup.
“Thank you.”
He nodded and filled the cup again. “I don’t know what your powers are, and I hadn’t wanted to ask another witch to come in here while you were unconscious to tell me. Because of that, I couldn’t give you too many pain meds, as I didn’t know how it would affect you. So I’m sorry if you’re hurting. I also couldn’t Heal your wounds like I would if you were Pack. I don’t have the bonds to work with. You did need fluids, though. So I could do that at least.”
He sounded annoyed that he couldn’t do more for her, and yet he’d saved her life. She wasn’t sure what more he could have done under the circumstances.
She drank again, this time slower. “You did more than most would do,” she finally said.