Darren patted my arm and murmured about the human body being resistant to wishful thinking. Except I wasn’t human.
I got dressed and tried to ignore my throbbing wrist. After weeks of doing PT, I hadn’t improved, or I had but not enough. My broken ribs had healed, and I had full movement in my shoulder, but the damned wrist refused to cooperate.
Stan was waiting in the lobby when I walked in. I pretended my wrist was better, but I was in pain after the PT session.
“How’d it go?” His smile, unlike Darren's, was hopeful.
“Great. I’m ready for the Olympics.”
His face fell. “That bad.”
I slumped onto the seat beside him. “Worse.”
Stan took my bag. Neither of us said anything on the way to the car or on the drive home. My mate kept glancing at me, but I couldn’t speak because everything I’d worked for was slipping away.
Back at the house, Stan made tea while I lay on the couch feeling sorry for myself. My wolf was restless and frustrated that he couldn’t help me heal.
“I have an idea.” As well as the tea, Stan brought me a slice of red velvet cake, my favorite. My mate was taking care of me and giving me something I loved, though the team nutritionist would have had words with me.
“If it involves more rest, I’ve done that.” I took a bite of the cake and thanked him but wasn’t going to eat any more.
“It’s about my den.”
Huh? That isn’t what I expected, especially as my mate’s father was human, so he didn’t grow up in the den.
“There’a healer, my aunt, Clarissa. She’s helped humans who’ve been injured when regular medication or PT hasn’t worked.” He put down his mug. “She might be able to help you.”
A fox healer who may or may not be able to help. It didn’t give me hope.
“We’re running out of options, Ax.”
The desperation in Stan’s voice had me holding back tears. My injury had upended our newly mated lives. We should have been planning a nursery, and instead, we were focused on me, my wrist and career.
He was right. What did I have to lose other than my arm?
My wolf reacted, thinking I was cutting off my limb, and I assured him that wasn’t happening.
“Okay.”
He grabbed his phone and wandered outside to make the call. I picked up some of the conversation but not enough to understand the outcome. But when my mate returned, he was beaming, the first real smile I’d seen since the day at the arcade.
“She’ll see you tomorrow, and she’s excited to meet you.”
“Excited?”
“You’re my mate and I’m carrying our baby, her great-nephew or niece.”
Again I was reminded of how my injury had put a damper on our lives. The baby and Stan having a healthy pregnancy should’ve been the priority, not whether I’d ever get on the ice again.
Though I hadn’t confided in my mate, I worried that if my career was over, I wasn’t trained for anything else. I’d have to take any job I could to provide for our child.
Being newly marked, we were still working out how to be mates. We’d been roommates for ages, but now we were partners, a couple and bonded. Being in love wasn’t enough for a successful relationship.
The den was an hour outside of town and it was a beautiful day, but I was stressed, thinking that if Clarissa wouldn’t help me, there was no Plan C.
Stan told me he’d spent time during each summer holiday in the den. His extended family had welcomed him, but he’d always felt a little apart from the other kids because his alpha dad was human and he didn’t live on den land.
Clarissa was Stan’s omega dad’s older sister, and she’d lived in the den her entire life. She was widowed, with grown children who’d moved away, and had been trained by the den’s former healer.
