It should have been impossible and it was still terrifying.
“That’s...” I leaned closer, watching skin stitch itself back together in real time. “How is that possible?”
“Told you.” Percy’s smile was tired. “Lycan.”
“Percival, I want you to be honest with the pain.” Solomon pressed a bandage over the wound. “The celebration has humans outside. They could find Hudson’s body before I get to it so I need to know if you’re okay.”
Percy pushed himself upright against the couch arm. “Yeah, I keep telling you guys. Go. Deal with it. I just need to sleep this off.”
Solomon studied him for a moment, then lifted him off the couch in one fluid motion. Percy protested but Solomon was already carrying him up the stairs. I followed, hovering at their heels, my hands reaching for Percy’s arm every few steps.
Solomon set him on his bed, pulling the blanket over his chest and checked the bandage one final time.
“I’ll stay with him.” I didn’t realize I’d said it until the words were already out. “You can go. I’m not leaving until I know he’s okay.”
“Mira.” Percy caught my hand and squeezed. His grip was weaker than usual but his eyes were clear and focused. “You should rest too. You’re probably scared.”
“I’m not scared.” My voice cracked on the lie. “I’m pissed. You got hurt because of me. Because Hudson was after me. So don’t tell me to rest when you’re lying here with a hole in your shoulder.”
He blinked at me. A slow smile spread across his face, soft and wondering.
“What?” I demanded.
“Nothing. Just... you’re kind of amazing when you’re angry.”
“Shut up and heal.”
His eyes were drooping. The gold fading back to hazel as his body surrendered to whatever healing process lycans used to knit themselves back together. His hand went slack in mine.
I didn’t let go.
“I’ll be back shortly.” Solomon left to handle the body.
The cabin went quiet.
I sat on the floor beside his bed, Percy’s hand still in mine, and watched him breathe.
This is my fault.
Hours passed. Dawn crept through the windows in gray stripes. Percy slept, I didn’t.
A hand landed on my shoulder.
“Mira.”
Lucian stood behind me. His shirt was wrinkled, half-tucked, the top buttons open. He looked as wrecked as I felt.
“Come with me. You need to eat, and I need to check your wrist where he grabbed you.”
“I’m not leaving him.”
“You’ve been on this floor for four hours. He’s healing. Solomon confirmed it before he left. And Percy is strong. He’s one of my warriors. This is nothing to him.”
“I’m not...”
“Mira.” His voice softened. Just barely. “Please.”
The “please” did it. Lucian Valdris didn’t say please. The word sounded foreign in his mouth, and the fact that he’d used it on me made my resistance crumble.
