I wait for the wobble that always comes after a long sleep and too many hours away from Rennick, but my legs hold.
Surprise slips out on a raspy breath. “I’m steadier than I should be.” I don’t know if I’m telling myself this or Seren.
My eyes fall to the bed again, to the heap of clothes heavy with his scent, like they might hold the answer to why my knees haven’t buckled yet.
“I brought them in after Rennick left this morning. Knew you’d feel better surrounded by his scent while he was gone.” Seren admits. Her chin lifts a fraction, small, defensive, like she’s bracing for me to scold her for crossing a line. My wolf shifts at the thought of her scent in our mate’s space, but it’s more a murmur than a growl.
I’m more focused on the quiet confirmation that Rennick was still here this morning. I knew he’d carried me home, that he’d helped wash the dirt and blood from my skin, but part of me hadn’t dared to believe he stayed. Not after what I’d done to him. Not after the nightmare I’d forced him to suffer through like it was real.
“Rennick was in here?” It comes out smaller than I mean it to.
Her face softens, picking up on the emotions that hide beneath my simple question.“He didn’t leave your side until this morning. Even then he didn’t want to.” Her light gaze flicks to the chair. “He sat there all night. Looked like hell when I foundhim—mud still on his clothes, eyes bloodshot. I’d bet anything he didn’t sleep.”
At her direction, I finally take note of the accent chair that’s been dragged close. Dirt streaks the creamy soft cushion where soiled clothes must have pressed. I can picture it so easily. His big frame folded into a too small chair, eyes locked on me while I slept, like he was too afraid he’d miss something if he looked away. It tugs at something I don’t know what to name.
My wolf hums along with it, purring her stubborn faith in him.Our mate.Ours.
I answer her the way I always do when I’m trying to protect us both.He still lied. He kept the truth of this party from us.
She bares her teeth at that, unwilling to concede.
“That explains why I’m feeling pretty okay, then,” I murmur. “He stayed close enough all night to keep the ache at bay.”
Seren hums and lifts the mug to her lips. When she speaks, it’s half into the tea, as if the ceramic will soften her truth. “Zora and I also had to work a little healer magic on you.”
I go still. The back of my mind has been tugging at me since I woke, asking me to notice the shift inside my body. “What does that mean, Ser?”
She rolls her shoulder like it’s nothing and still takes a step back. “It means we did what we had to do so you could get out of this bed today,” she answers, light and offhand in a way that scrapes against my nerves. “So you could make it through the day without bleeding out of places you shouldn’t or face-planting in the mud.Again.”
The veneer cracks on that last word. Fear leaks through. I see it, and I feel the echo of it in my own chest. A memory surfaces—the warm tickle at my upper lip, the way blood traced over my mouth when everything inside me was spiraling. I hadn’t coughed it up this time. It had poured out of me instead. I can only imagine how I looked when Rennick brought me home andshe found us. No wonder she is shaking under the calm she keeps trying to wear.
The sight of me looking that broken probably would have had her willing to do anything to help, including…
Oh, shit.
“Seren,” I exhale her name. “Did you use your gift on me?”
She winces before she can stop herself. It’s small, but it’s answer enough.
“Like I said,” she swallows, guilt catching in her throat, “we did what we had to do to help you, Noa.”
“Seren,” I repeat, my voice breaking. “I never—” The words crumble before they leave me. I hate that she did it, not because she crossed a boundary, but because I know what it costs her to. Seren’s empath gift doesn’t touch joy, peace, or anything bright. She can only draw out the darkness that festers, and she has to take it on herself to burn it away. My grief. My fear. The jagged shards left by betrayal and rejection—she’ll carry them for me until she can burn them to ash within her. Her red-rimmed eyes and drained face make sudden, awful sense.
“I’m okay, babe. I can take it.” She lifts her chin, squaring her shoulders, trying to look unshakeable. I don’t need the performance. I already know how strong she is. I also know she carries her own hurt every day, which is why I’ve always told her no when she’s offered to take mine. Even after my mother died, I refused. I couldn’t pile my emotional baggage on top of hers. “But you, my sweet, stubborn friend, needed a reprieve.” She looks me over, not unkind, but the keen way a healer does. “Your body couldn’t handle the strain of it all any longer. Especially not after your little power display yesterday. If I hadn’t stepped in, you’d still be passed out in bed. That’s how fragile you are right now.”
The truth lands heavy and cold. I flinch.
“I still don’t like that you felt…” I trail off because there isn’t a word big enough to encompass it all. Not for the wreckage that’s been festering from the scar tissue left by Rennick’s rejection, not for all the different degrees of torment that’ve followed. It’s all too much for one person to hold.
“I would’ve done it sooner if I thought you’d let me,” Seren answers, waving off my worry with a nonchalance that does not fit the vastness of the situation. “And it’s temporary. I wish I could offer a permanent fix, but my gift isn’t built like that. I just took the edge off for a bit, but it’ll all come swarming back before you’re ready.” She reaches up, tugs a strand of my hair, and my eyes flick down to the clumped mud still stuck there. “All right, shower time. I’ll meet you in the kitchen. Siggy’s making French toast as we speak, and I should go supervise before she goes rogue with the recipe and makes something resembling a candy bar instead of breakfast. Love the girl, but her sugar intake is alarming.”
A quiet laugh escapes before I can stop it because I’ve seen Siggy’s “baking”.The muffins we made the other day were more chocolate chips than batter. The memory tugs another loose—Rennick’s expression when he tried one, the small, pained wince when the sweetness smacked him in the face.
The thought punctures the thin high and calm I’ve been floating in since I woke because it’stoday.The party. Whatever’s waiting for me has already started moving. For all I know, I’ve already lost the game I didn’t know I still had to play.
Seren notices the shift in me and bumps my shoulder. When I look up, her expression is gentle in a way that makes my throat sting. “He cares about you, Noa. So much.” Her words are a balm she applies with a gentle touch. “And he’s trying to make it right. As hard as it is, please give him a chance to prove it.”
I open my mouth, not sure if I’m about to agree or argue and remind her that belief is hard to hand back when it’s alreadybeen dropped.Twice. But I don’t get the chance to say a damn thing.
