Hethoughtherememberedtelling Aaron how tired he was. He didn’t remember lying prone at any point, but he was no longer propped by pillows. He flexed his fingers. Opened his eyes.
Light shone in from the open door, and soft voices filtered to him. Someone had drawn the blackout shade, so no daylight would reach him regardless, but wolf instinct said it was…late. Night, in fact. Well, he’d gone to sleep around eight in the morning, so his instinct must be off. He arched his back to stretch, and the tug of the scars stopped him. He huffed out a breath. Not that he’d expected a nap to finish the healing process. But the continued aching and weakness were an obstacle he couldn’t tolerate right now. He needed to lope out to the last known sighting of the rogues and scout for himself. He needed to gauge how the pack was weathering all this.
Jeremy must have had a full panic attack at the scent of so much blood. Ember was maybe the toughest human he’d ever met, but as long as she carried a pup, she deserved special care. Aaron would be brittle after nearly losing a patient, more so because the patient was his alpha and close friend. Arlo and Rebecca, Robert and Ann, his surrogate folks… Malachi wanted to hear from each of them that they were all right now. It had been good to talk to the Sterling brothers after he woke up, to hear their raw thoughts. It had been good to talk to Rhett too, though their talk wasn’t finished. He needed this with the rest of his pack. He needed to hear their voices.
He winced as he pushed himself up in bed, but he didn’t feel faint this time as he lowered his feet to the floor. Before he could stand, April appeared in the doorway with that stupid silver tumbler.
“Medic’s orders,” he said.
“You’re learning.”
He growled but accepted the tumbler when she offered it. He took a long drink, and his body seemed to sigh with relief. “What time is it?”
“Around eleven.”
“I slept for three hours?” Longer than he’d meant to.
April perched on the bed beside him and took his free hand. “Eleven p.m. Fifteen hours.”
He’d never slept so long in his entire life. He tuned into the quiet conversations in the house and realized…they were keeping voices low because the pups were in bed. A low growl shook his chest. Fifteen hours.
April laughed softly.
“What?”
“I anticipated that growl. You really are predictable, Mal.”
“Hmm.” He took another long drink, then lifted his head. “You haven’t called me Mal before.”
She blinked. “I guess I haven’t.”
“You’re settling in. More comfortable with the pack.”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “I want to be acclimated soon. I want to…to belong here.”
She did belong. The scents of the wolves when she was around held none of the guardedness they felt with humans from town. In fact they hadn’t smelled guarded around April…ever. Not since the day she arrived. His chest rumbled as he realized it.
“What are you thinking?” she said.
“That you already belong. It’s good to hear you say you want to.”
“I do.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “How do you feel?”
He didn’t want to answer that question, not for the next twenty-two days, but he wouldn’t withhold the truth from her. “My mind is clearer. But I’d expect to gain more strength from fifteen hours of sleep.”
“And the scars? Do they still hurt you?”
A long sigh spilled out of him, then a low rumble. He trusted her to interpret it.
“Oh,” she said quietly. “I hoped, given how long you rested, maybe your wolf would finish healing you. But it really does only happen when you’re in wolf form, doesn’t it.”
“Correct.”
“Then shouldn’t you do what Trevor said?”
“No,” he growled.
She sighed. “Can I get you anything? You must be hungry.”
