Rafe bares his canines and charges toward Teddy, who hasn’t picked up Rafe’s scent in the still night air; my fiancé is whistling softly, unaware of the danger. I shriek Teddy’s name, and he turns, but I know it’s too late. My gorgeous werewolf is going to be wounded once more, torn and slashed by stupid, smirking, jealous Rafe.
And I won’t let that happen to him again.
With a loud cry, I transform into my faerie form, my wings swooshing open through the slits in my gown. It only takes several flaps of my powerful wings to propel me into the air toward Teddy. I land in front of him, twisting my body to wrap my arms and wings around him protectively, and I wait for the impact as Rafe hurtles toward us.
Rafe’s claws tear into me, crushing feathers and breaking bones as my wings are ripped apart. Now I’m screaming and sliding slowly down, down, down, as Teddy howls my name and catches me before my head hits the gravel drive. There’s a flutter of activity above me; I glimpse Rafe’s shocked face, and then he’s gone, running away.
Agonizing pain courses through my back and wings; blood pools inside my dress and trickles to the ground. My breath is coming in short gasps as Teddy leans over me, weeping and crying, “Oh, Sophie, hang on darling, don’t leave me… please don’t… don’t...” His voice cracks, his tears falling into my face and hair.
I want to reassure Teddy, tell him I’m not leaving him, but the excruciating pain is more than I can handle. My head is so woozy… and my eyelids are… too… heavy…
Chapter 39
Broken Hearts
TEDDY
Saturday, August 18
“Sophie! Sophie!” I’m half mad with grief, screaming her name as I cradle her crumpled form in my arms. Someone must hear my cries, because suddenly I’m surrounded by people from the inn; an older man with pointy ears and a trim gray beard takes over, calling an ambulance.
One of the staff drapes a blanket over Sophie, who’s unconscious, her wings dangling at wrong angles from her back. I periodically check her pulse, panicking at the irregular heartbeat. I don’t know the first thing about faerie wings, but even I can see they’ve been shredded by Rafe’s claws.
At some point Cassia joins me on the driveway, weeping quietly over her cousin. I’m so afraid of losing Sophie that the paramedics have to pry her out of my arms when they arrive. They let me ride along in theambulance with her, probably because they can see I’m in no condition to drive myself to the hospital. As we’re leaving, I ask Cassia to call the rest of the family and meet us there.
When we arrive, Sophie is whisked away into the emergency room, and Marv shows up to take the police report on the incident. I’m so upset I’m dry heaving, and Marv drags me outside so I can get some fresh air. He waits until I regain a modicum of self-control, and then he asks, “What the blazes happened?”
“Rafe happened,” I spit out. “He came out of nowhere, partially shifted, obviously bent on attacking me, but I didn’t catch his scent until it was too late. Sophie must have spotted him because she screamed my name. As I was turning around, she flew into me and draped her wings around me.” I have to stop speaking to catch my breath again. “Sophie took the blows intended for me. Now she’s lying in there with bloody, torn-up wings, and I’m out here without even a scratch.”
I run my hands through my hair, pacing around the parking lot. “I want to howl and whine and break something, but nothing I do is going to heal Sophie and lessen her agony.” I look at Marv. “What can I do? Tell me what to do.”
Marv speaks in a quiet, authoritative tone that helps to soothe some of my frenzied desperation. “You can tell me everything you remember about Rafe, what he was wearing, how fast he was moving. You said he’d partially shifted; I need a complete description. Give me all the details you can recall.”
Slowly, haltingly, I tell Marv everything I can remember,and then I stumble back inside the hospital. Sophie’s parents and Granny Catbeam arrive shortly afterward, followed by Jake and Cassia. I tell them what happened, breaking down only once, when I describe how Sophie came between Rafe and me.
“It should have beenmeprotecting her, not the other way around,” I mutter, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands. “I’m so sorry.”
Granny places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Sophie is a brave faerie who loves you deeply; she never would’ve stood by and allowed you to be injured if she could do something about it.”
It’s been several hours since the ambulance arrived with Sophie, and we’re still waiting for news of her condition. A team of surgeons is working on her, resetting her wing bones and stitching up the damaged muscles and sinews in her back. Phoebe says the most time-consuming part will be repairing her wings, given the number of tiny bones that were crushed in the attack.
I’m broken inside, terrified Sophie will never fully recover. I can’t make eye contact with her family, too ashamed of my failure to keep her safe. I couldn’t save Jarrod from the beating that killed him, and I couldn’t save Sophie from having her wings ripped apart by Rafe.
Someone, Cassia I think, tries to hand me a cup of water but I shake my head; my stomach is so knotted up I can’t keep anything down, not even water. I’m sitting on one of the plastic chairs in the hospital’s secluded waiting room for supernaturals, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands.Sophie’s family are murmuring softly among themselves, their wings partially unfurled against their backs.
My head’s still in my hands when I hear the chair creaking next to me as a large, warm body takes the seat. It’s my alpha; I’d know his scent anywhere.
“Teddy,” says Jake quietly, “look at me.”
I take a shuddering breath and obey, gazing at him through watery eyes. Like me, he’s remained in his man-form even though we both might feel better if we shift. But it’s easier to communicate with Sophie’s family and doctors this way.
Jake murmurs, “You’ve got to keep it together. Sophie is going to need a lot of rehabilitation, and we’re all counting on you to help.”
I nod, so full of bleak remorse and crushing sadness I’m unable to speak. We sit like that, side-by-side in silent solidarity, waiting for news of Sophie.
Finally, a female faerie with black hair and burgundy wing feathers enters the room and asks for the Spellman-Brownlee family. We immediately surround the doctor, who gives us a brief, compassionate nod. “The initial surgery went as well as we could have expected. However, Sophie’s wings were badly damaged; we’re not sure they’ll ever be fully functional again.”
Phoebe cries, “Oh my poor girl,” and buries her face in Nash’s chest.
