Blood in the Alley - 2
1108 Words
"Rogues," I said. Automatic.
"Mm-hmm." She made a note on her tablet. Didn't believe me, I could see it in the set of her mouth. "And the defensive wounds on your hands? The bruising pattern on your forearms that suggests sustained combat. The calluses that say you've been holding weapons regularly for years? That all match up with a simple rogue attack?"
Shit.
I looked down at my hands. She was right, the evidence was there. Scraped knuckles. Old scars across my palms from blade work. The kind of conditioning you didn't get from running scared.
"I fought back," I said.
"Clearly." Another note. "You're also severely malnourished. Dehydrated. Blood work shows chronic stress markers. Whatever you've been through, it's been going on a lot longer than one rogue attack."
I said nothing.
Dr. Chen sighed. Set down her tablet. "Look, I'm not here to interrogate you. My job is to keep you alive and healing, that's it. But that man outside?" She jerked her head toward the door. "He's going to have questions. A lot of them. And fair warning, he's absolute s**t at accepting non-answers."
"Then I guess we'll have a problem."
"You're his mate." Not a question. Statement of fact, delivered with the same clinical precision she'd probably use to diagnose a broken bone. "You know what that means to an alpha, right? He's not going to let you walk out of here without answers."
"He doesn't have a choice."
"Doesn't he?"
The door opened before I could respond.
And there he was.
Kade Blackwood looked like he hadn't slept in days. His dark hair stuck up at odd angles like he'd been running his hands through it repeatedly. His shirt was wrinkled, untucked. Dark circles shadowed his eyes.
But when his gaze locked on mine, the intensity in those storm-gray eyes nearly knocked me backward into the pillows.
The bond pulled tight. Singing between us like a live wire, electric and insistent.
My wolf surged up, pressing against the edges of my control. Mate, she said. Mate, mate, mate.
Murderer, I reminded her.
"Out," Kade said to Dr. Chen. Didn't look away from me.
"She needs rest"
"Now."
His voice didn't rise. Didn't need to. The command rolled out of him like a physical force Alpha will, pack magic, whatever you wanted to call it.
Dr. Chen gave me one last look. Something that might have been sympathy. Might have been a warning.
Then she left.
The door clicked shut.
Silence.
Kade moved toward the bed slowly. Careful. Like I was a wild animal that might bolt or bite.
He wasn't wrong.
My wolf was going absolutely feral, torn between two equally strong impulses: tear his throat out, or press closer to him and never let go.
"What's your name?" he asked.
I could lie. Should lie. Give him something false, something that would buy me time while I figured out how to salvage this disaster.
But something about the way he was looking at me like I was the answer to a question he'd been asking his entire life made the truth slip out before I could stop it.
"Sera."
"Sera." He said it softly. Carefully. Like he was tasting the shape of it. "You're my mate."
"Apparently."
"You're hurt."
"I'll heal."
"Who did this to you?"
There it was. The question I'd been preparing for.
I met his eyes and told him the first of many lies I'd have to tell.
"I don't know who they were. Just wrong place, wrong time."
He stared at me for a long moment. I wondered if he could see through me. If the bond gave him some kind of insight into my thoughts, my intentions, my carefully constructed deceptions.
Then he pulled up a chair. Sat down next to the bed, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him.
Close enough that my wolf purred.
"You're lying," he said. Softly. Matter-of-fact.
My heart kicked.
"But that's okay," he continued before I could respond. "You're scared. You're hurt. You don't know if you can trust me. I get that."
Guilt twisted in my stomach. Sharp and sudden and completely unwelcome.
I shoved it down.
"Here's what's going to happen." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "You're going to stay here until you're healed. You're going to let us protect you. And when you're ready when you feel safe enough you're going to tell me the truth."
"And if I don't want to stay?"
Something dangerous flickered across his face. "You're my mate, Sera. That means you're under my protection whether you like it or not. No one is going to hurt you again." His jaw tightened. "Not on my watch."
The conviction in his voice nearly broke me.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
He wasn't supposed to be kind. Wasn't supposed to look at me like I was something precious and fragile. Wasn't supposed to have that rough edge of desperation in his voice, like the thought of me getting hurt again physically pained him.
He was supposed to be a monster.
I'd spent five years building that image in my head. Cold. Cruel. The kind of man who would burn a pack to ash and not lose a single night's sleep over it.
But the man sitting next to my hospital bed, looking at me like I'd hung the moon, didn't match that image at all.
Which meant either I'd been wrong about everything.
Or he was a better liar than I'd given him credit for.
"I'm tired," I said. Not a lie exhaustion was pulling at me, dragging me down.
Kade stood. But he didn't move toward the door. Instead, he reached out, slow and careful, and brushed a strand of hair back from my face.
The touch was so gentle it made my throat tight.
"Rest," he said. "I'll be right outside if you need anything."
He made it to the door before I spoke again.
"Kade?"
He turned. Fast. Hope lighting up his features like sunrise.
"Why do you patrol that alley?" I asked. Kept my voice casual. Curious. "Every night at the same time. What are you looking for?"
The hope dimmed. Shutters came down behind his eyes.
For a long moment, he didn't answer. Just stood there, backlit by the hallway light, looking suddenly very young and very tired.
"Ghosts," he said finally. "I'm looking for ghosts."
Then he left.
And I was alone with my thoughts and the bond that was already wrapping around my heart like chains.
This was going to be so much harder than I'd thought.
- Writer
