Cash looked unkempt, with his near-black hair hanging long around his ears. His curls were matted like he hadn’t had the chance to wash it since fleeing Idaho.
There was scruff on his chin. It hadn’t been common for the wolves in the old pack to keep a clean-shaven face, but Cash’s stubble was scraggly and uneven.
His nose had a ridge in it that I didn’t remember, and there was something about his face that was subtly out of balance. A werewolf could heal from just about anything, but apparently not if the damage came with a rejection from their alpha.
The only scar I’d ever gotten had been a cut across my face, raked down from Reeve’s claws after our fight.
Only when I’d let go of the pack we were leaving behind had it begun to heal. It’d taken years for it to disappear entirely. I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t realized immediately upon seeing him, that was what was going on. I’d needed Jillian to jog my memory.
It’d just felt so impossible that any alpha would do this to the people they were supposed to protect.
Except Iknew better. Once again, I’d stuck my head in the sand and assumed the best because it made my life a little easier if I didn’t have to think about it.
Werewolf healing was goddamn magic, but there were limits to everything, and I got the sense that how we’d found Cash—that wasn’t all he’d endured in the years since I’d last seen him.
When I couldn’t stand looking at him or thinking about it anymore, I let my gaze wander around to the others.
Dakota kept glancing furtively into the corner. His arms were crossed, one hand covering his mouth. I even caught him biting the tip of his thumb.
Something was bothering him, and I was pretty damn sure it had something to do with the crap I’d heaped on his shoulders.
Just because he was a mageanda wolf didn’t mean that I should rely on him for everything. We’d just gotten off an exhausting flight, after an exhausting trip.
Okay, it’d been wonderful in a lot of ways, and I half wished we were back in Japan, but still—I’d put too much on him before he’d had a chance to rest.
Maia swayed back and forth, unable to stay still in her nervousness.
Prudence walked over to Dakota and spoke to him softly, and I did my damnedest not to eavesdrop on them, even if I could.
Thankfully, Cash picked that moment to give me a distraction from violating my mate’s privacy.
With a slow, deep breath, he blinked his eyes open and stared at the ceiling above him with a frown. He was nothing so much as dissatisfied with the damn ceiling, and I couldn’t help thinking my house had offended him.
Fair enough, really. If I’d had my belly torn open, I’d have been pretty pissed too, no matter what the ceiling had looked like when I woke up.
“Hey,” I breathed.
Cash rolled his eyes toward me and sighed through his nose. “Hey.”
The ghost of a smile passed over his mouth when he looked at me. He’d always had a nice smile, but this one—it wasn’t quite right. It didn’t reach his eyes, making them appear flat, dull, and filmy.
“How are you feeling?” I asked gently.
He shook his head, blinking a few times to clear up some feeling that—well, I couldn’t feel it.
Cash wasn’t pack anymore. He wasn’tmypack. I didn’t know what the hell was going through his head right then, and I had no sense of how to fix it.
I glanced up at Prudence, and she met my eye with a subtle shake of her head. There wasn’t any more for her to do, and I didn’t think she’d be so at ease if he were in acute danger.
Cash took another deep breath in. It jumped in his chest, like the movement caused him pain.
When his grassy green eyes turned my away again, I got the sense it wasn’t anything physical that made him hesitate.
“We fucked up,” he whispered.
I scowled. “What are you talking about?”
Whatever it was, I’d fix it.
