Red in the Blue

Chapter 11

"We'll see," Cade answered, smirking at me. "This is a pack rental property, and these people are on my payroll. My taxpayers are funding your recovery here."

"I'll be sure to bake a cake when I can walk again."

"You should get some more rest if you can. When you wake up, Irene and Bowen will be here."

He looked me over one more time, his expression unreadable, and then turned to go.

"Cade," I said, and he turned back, holding my gaze with his dark eyes.

"Thank you. Really. I'm...very grateful."

He smiled politely.

"I couldn't just let you die," he answered.

And he left. The room felt different without him in it. Like it had reserved a space for him that couldn't integrate with the rest when he vacated it. I ignored the twist in my chest, the hurt I had no right to feel at his words, at how dismissive they'd been, and closed my eyes.

When I woke again around dinner time, I could indeed smell two unfamiliar wolves in the house, though I couldn't hear anything. My eyes opened more easily than they had in days, and I realized my headache had dulled to a faint, persistent ache instead of the throbbing waves of cracking pain. I was still feverishly sweaty, but my body pain seemed a little better too. I pulled myself into a sitting position, careful of the IV, and swiveled my head around on my neck, wiggled my fingers and toes. I was weak and still felt off, but I felt decidedly better. It was already the first sliver of relief I'd had in days.

That relief, muddied with all kinds of other feelings, laid heavy across my shoulders and tight over my chest, pushed up into my face and weighed behind my eyes until I slumped my head back against the wall and cried. Hard. Sobbed, even. Relief and exhaustion and overwhelm rolling through me. Among other things, I felt a surge of gratitude for Elias and the care he had shown me when he didn't have to. His attentiveness. His calm. I pulled a corner of the bed sheet up to wipe my eyes, and it still smelled like Cade. I buried my face in it and sucked the comfort of it in like it was medicine.

There was a timid knock at the door, and I jumped, hastily wiped my eyes, and said, "come in."

A woman around my age leaned in around the door, scanning the room and me in the bed, her eyebrows up in alertness and concern.

"You okay in here? I thought I heard crying."

What a way to meet someone.

"Oh, yeah. Totally good, sorry." I tried to smile.

"Are you in pain?" she persisted, pushing the door the rest of the way open but remaining in the doorway. She looked shorter than I was—petite—with smooth brown skin and black hair cut into a piecey bob and choppy, too-short bangs. She was wearing green scrubs and a chunky watch, face fully made up, sharp, penciled brows.

"Not much pain," I answered. "It's manageable."

She studied my red, streaky face a beat longer and then stepped into the room.

"Mind if I turn these lights on?"

I closed my eyes and braced for the burn of the lights, but they felt mostly normal to me now. She approached my bedside.

"I'm Irene, your nurse. Cade said you knew to expect me." She smiled at me warmly.

"Yes," I returned her smile. "Thank you for being here. I'm Lore."

"I can get that IV out, we just wanted to get some fluids in you."

"Yeah, I need to pee like crazy."

She grinned at me.