The Lunar Witch

Chapter 9

We all finished eating breakfast and cleaned up our mess. After a few moments of us sitting in silence, Oliver cleared his throat.

“So, Rhonda, head home and get some rest. I’ll stay here with Pepper,” Oliver said. Rhonda opened her mouth to respond, but I started first.

“I think both of you should go home. I know the baby is due soon, and you need to be at home preparing.” Oliver opened his mouth to interrupt me. “If I need anything, I’ll let you know. I don’t think that he’ll be waking up for a few more days, at least. I can manage until then.” I gave a weak smile. Oliver and Rhonda exchanged looks before looking back at me.

“Are you sure? It’s no bother to stay and help.” Rhonda said.

“I know, and I appreciate everything you’ve both done. You helped more than I could’ve asked for with that potion. And it’s working. I just can’t see any reason for us all to just sit here, waiting for something to happen. You both have lives and a baby to prepare for. And from what I’ve heard about Witch babies, you’re going to need all the preparation you can get.” I said. Oliver gave a nervous laugh.

“So I’ve heard. You’re okay with being alone?” he looked at the man with a weary gaze.

“I’ll be alright. And I promise, I’ll call if anything comes up.” Oliver shuffled his weight on his feet and gave Rhonda a nervous look. She bit her lip and sighed.

“Well alright. I really don’t like leaving you alone like this, but I do need to finish the nursery. And the house needs a bit more baby proofing.”

“Seriously, Pepper, don’t hesitate to ask for help. It’s what we’re here for,” Oliver said. I hugged him and relished his embrace. We weren’t that close and rarely had moments like this. I knew he wanted the best for me and was worried. I just wished it didn’t hurt so much that he thought I couldn’t defend myself. He patted me on the back and released me from the embrace. I hugged Rhonda too, and she squeezed me while the baby kicked me. I chuckled and she let go. We laughed as she rubbed her belly.

The three of us went to the front door that Gran and I had gotten Astrid’s grimoire from. We said our last goodbyes, and Rhonda opened the door and stepped out. Just before Oliver took a step to join her, he turned to me.

“You should contact the Wolf Pack that’s close by. If you think he’s a Wolf, he might be one of his. I thought about it all night; we should’ve contacted them sooner.”

Brawns Pack! How could I have been so forgetful?

“Thank you, Oliver. I’ll contact them.” I waved, and he took a step to join Rhonda, closing the door behind him.

Standing alone in the quiet of the living room, I realized I was alone. Someone had been watching over me since I had found the man on the back patio. My mind had been fuzzy from everything that had happened; I’d had little time to process anything. Why did I need the man to live? Who had done this to him?

I wish Gran was here.

My shoulders slumped, and I thought about going back into the infirmary with the man. But my feet wouldn’t move. So, instead, I went to the phone that hung on the dining room wall. I dialed Brawn’s number and waited while it rang.

“Pepper? What do you want?” Brawn said gruffly.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Sir. I wouldn’t have unless it was important. But I’ve got a Were here, who I believe is a Wolf. Their injured. I wanted to check with you to see if they might be from your pack?” I said. There was a long pause.

“A Were? As in, you’re not sure if they’re a Wolf?”

“That’s right. I found them on my patio unconscious in human form.”

“I’m not missing anyone. But I can call the other local packs and ask around. How bad are they?”

I thought of the helpless man. Brawn was an admirable man, even if he didn’t like me. I didn’t think that he would harm the man. But wolves are ruthless and have their own laws they abide by. I didn’t know what Brawn would do if he felt that the man was trespassing into his territory. Or if he would agree with Chrys and decide to kill the man out of mercy. And there was no way I could stop Brawn.

“It’s bad, but manageable.”

“Pepper, when they wake up, they may be aggravated. Do you need help?”

“No. They’re fine. I just wanted to notify you in case they’re one of yours.”

“Alright. I’ll make some calls. If they become aggravated, call me.”

“Okay. It was good to talk to you.” I hung the phone back on the wall. I stood there for a moment and felt heavy. Even though I had slept all night, I was still exhausted. My stomach was in knots, and all I wanted to do was crawl back into bed. But I couldn’t allow myself to mope about in my bed. Instead, I busied myself with chores around the house.

I started by eating and showering, which lifted my spirits. I had enough energy to tidy up the infirmary and the dining room. I tended to my plants in the greenhouse, which had been neglected for the past 24 hours.

I spent the next two days doing this, keeping myself busy, checking on him, then doing something else. I tried not to mope about for too long, or waste away in bed. Instead, I keep moving, doing tasks that kept my mind busy. At night, I studied Astrid’s grimoire, trying to decipher it. There were still some odd phrases I couldn’t distinguish. But it was something interesting to do, instead of watching a man breathe for hours.

I came in from the greenhouse around noon and dusted myself off. Some of my spider plants needed transplanted. I went upstairs and washed off and changed into a loose white dress. The weather couldn’t decide if it wanted to be summer or fall, and today it was warm out. I braided my long brown hair and let it rest against my back. I didn’t bother putting shoes on. After I was dressed and clean, I headed downstairs to the infirmary.

I knew there probably was nothing to worry about, but I didn’t enjoy leaving him unattended for long periods of time. It made me anxious. But seeing him in bed, unmoved, made me feel silly.

He hasn’t made any progress in two days. Maybe Oliver was right, maybe his movement the other day was nothing. Anxiety knotted in my stomach, and I sighed. The man hadn’t moved at all, not even a sigh or a grunt. How long could I keep him alive like this until I had to decide that it was time?

I can’t let him go. Not yet. I began checking his vitals again. It had become so routine, so monotonous, I could’ve done it in my sleep. His pulse, breathing, and blood pressure were all the same.

I stood, inspecting his face for what felt like the thousandth time. He had a small scar above the left side of his lip. It almost made it look like he was smirking at me, as if he had some inside joke I wouldn’t understand. I hadn’t looked under the sheet at the man’s abdomen since Oliver had left. I hadn’t felt brave enough. But over the past two days, I knew it would be important to check.

I had told myself that if there was no improvement after three days, I would have to be honest with myself. That I was keeping him alive for my own selfish reasons.

I swallowed a gulp of air, and willed strength into myself. Clenching one fist, I grasped the sheet and pulled it down just before his groin. My breath was sucked out, and I stared at his chest. After a moment, I realized my mouth was open.

He’s healed! His abdomen is healed!

Although his chest still had a gnarly scar, his abdomen wasn’t sunken in anymore. Without the scar, he would’ve looked normal and healthy. Pale, and lacking muscle tone, but still healthy. He was lean, and the scar running from his bellybutton to his collarbone was bright red. I held my breath and wasn’t sure what to do. I hadn’t expected to see such excellent results.

I gingerly put my hand on his chest to palpate the area. What if it’s like goo? I shuddered at the thought. I started off gently prodding, feeling to make sure his organs were all there. Once I confirmed they were, I started pressing harder, trying to find out what might be going on, and why he was still unconscious. Was his body still healing, or was it his brain?

I pressed firmly near his rib cage, and he groaned. I jumped and pulled my hands away, but his face hadn’t changed, and he was unmoved. I tucked him in so that the sheet was pulled up, and both his arms were out from under it.

“Well, I’m glad you’re showing progress. Now let’s look at that leg.” His leg had been a problem from the get-go, and it wasn’t getting better. I began unwrapping his leg when I heard more groaning.

The man’s eyes were slanted open, and his mouth moved, but no sound came out. My heart skipped a beat, and I went back to him and leaned in. Air escaped his lips, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. He cleared his throat, licked his lips, and tried again.

"Water,” he whispered.