Grayson glanced down and saw the dark stain spreading across his side. “It’s nothing.”
“Bullshit,” Zane said as he joined them. “We need to get you back. Now.”
Grayson wanted to argue, but his strength was draining too quickly. He allowed Ryder and Zane to support him as they made their way back to the car. Every step was a struggle, but his mind remained fixed on one thing.
Cora.
As the car sped toward Bellefleur, Grayson clung to consciousness, though the thought of Theodore’s men anywhere near Cora was enough to drown out the pain coursing through his body.
“I’m not letting him take her,” he muttered.
Ryder glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “We won’t let that happen.”
Grayson didn’t respond. His vision darkened, and the world tilted as he finally succumbed to the pull of unconsciousness, Cora’s name the last thought on his mind.
***
The headlights from Ryder’s car cut through the darkness as they pulled into the edge of Bellefleur. Grayson was barely holding on. His head was resting against the window as the pain from his wound threatened to drag him under again. Ryder screeched to a stop in front of Elena’s house, and the two of them hauled Grayson out of the car.
“You didn’t have to manhandle me,” Grayson complained, though his words slurred slightly.
“You passed out twice just on the drive, Kane.”
Ryder rapped his knuckles on Elena’s door. “She’s not going to be happy about this.”
The door swung open moments later, revealing Elena with her arms crossed. Her gaze immediately dropped to Grayson’s blood-soaked side, and her expression hardened. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nice to see you too,” Grayson mumbled.
“Get him inside,” Elena snapped, stepping aside to let them through.
They half-carried him to the kitchen, setting him down on one of the sturdy wooden chairs. Elena wasted no time grabbing her supplies, slamming jars and tinctures onto the counter with enough force to make Zane flinch.
“You’re an idiot,” she griped as she worked, cutting away the bloodied fabric of his shirt to reveal the wound. “Charging into a compound with barely a plan and getting yourself torn to shreds? What were you thinking?”
Grayson winced as the cool sting of antiseptic hit his skin. “It wasn’t exactly a choice.”
“Of course, it was a choice,” Elena shot back, glaring at him. “You could’ve waited, gathered more intel, or literally done anything other than walking straight into, by the looks of it, was nothing more than Theodore’s trap.”
“We didn’t have time,” Grayson argued. “If we waited, more people would’ve been taken.”
“And what good would that have done if you’d died?” Elena countered. “You can’t protect anyone if you’re dead, Grayson. You’re not invincible.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he looked away, letting her work in silence. Ryder and Zane exchanged a look before quietly excusing themselves, leaving the two of them alone.
Elena’s hands moved with practiced precision as she stitched the gash in his side, but her frustration was palpable. “You’re too reckless. Always have been. One of these days, it’s going to get you killed.”
“That’s the job,” he said quietly, his tone as steady as he could muster. “Danger comes with the territory.”
Elena froze with her needle poised midair, and her glare could have stopped an entire pack in its tracks. “No, Grayson. That’s your excuse. There’s a difference. You have people to look after now. You can’t be so reckless all the time anymore!”
His silence only made Elena mutter under her breath, something that sounded suspiciously like “stubborn wolf” mixed with a creative curse.
After finishing the last stitch, she stepped back and wiped her hands on a rag. “That’ll hold for now,” she said, but her voice had lost its bite. She moved to the counter, where an assortment of herbs and vials were laid out. She ground a handful of dried leaves into a fine powder before adding it to a bowl of thick, amber-colored liquid.
Grayson watched with mild curiosity as she murmured an incantation under her breath. The mixture began to glow, and its warmth radiated through the small room.
“Elena—” he started, but she sharply glanced at him.
