Under The Sea

Chapter Fifty Three

The look on Aran's face was the same look the clouds wore: dull and bleak. It had been an entire month since Mason, and I was nearly fully healed, and yet, not. The pack was still healing from everything that had happened, some willing to forgive and forget, others pushing for change.

Caleb Pierce was in the center of the conflict, by the end of our decision he would either be dead, or left to live as a rogue.

I felt incredibly low as I sat there contemplating who Caleb truly was. Every time I saw his face, I saw the rogue boy who had just lost his family and was looking to start over. I saw someone I had helped, someone I thought was my friend.

Was it really all a ploy? Was he that good at playing pretend? The curiosity was causing knots to tie in my stomach.

"You aren't well enough to visit anyone yet, Forest." He crossed his arms and I knew he meant for the conversation to be over, but I kept pushing.

"But I am, Aran. I'm almost completely healed. Even the nurse said so."

"Forest, I just had to carry you up those stairs, and the nurse didn't say that. In fact she said the opposite."

I averted my eyes as he stared at me as if daring me to answer. All I wanted to do was shrink back into the bed and fall into a peaceful sleep, but I knew I would sleep better if I won this argument.

"The nurse said I shouldn't run around, I'm sure I'll be fine having a few words with him."

A slash of wariness went down the bond and I saw that he wanted to give me what I wanted but was afraid I would get hurt because of it.

"Aran," I beckoned him forward, clasping his hand in mine as he sat next to me, "you'll be with me every minute, you having nothing to worry about." I leaned my head against his shoulder, taking in his calming scent. Through all the pain of healing and seeing people hurt, Aran had stayed strong by my side the entire time. I didn't know how to thank him with things other than small smiles that told him everything I felt, or longer hugs, kisses, or reassuring squeezes. 

The days went by as slow as the moon took to grow full, and it felt as if Poseidon had taken the liberty to slow things down just for us, so that we could heal with all the time in the world. 

Although I worried for James, he was stuck in the dungeon every night, watching Caleb not because we asked him too but because he couldn't take anymore risks. I'd told him time and again to get some rest, to stop stressing himself out, but . . .

Poseidon, he was stubborn. 

I remembered the days when Aran would work his energy to a stub and then collapse late at night only to wake up again at dawn. The deep violet that formed crescent moons under his eyes then, could now be seen on James. I wanted to talk to Caleb so that I could find my own sort of closure, maybe even speed up his trial. He seemed to be the only thing standing between Peace and I. The thought was harrowing. 

Time may have been on our side, but patience was not. I grew more and more restless with each passing day. Not only did my body crave the sweet release of shifting, but my mind wanted things to be . . . normal. No more fighting the bad guys, no more arguing about what to do next. I knew the nightmares would take longer to pass, but those were things I could handle. I could not handle the fear of Death being just around the corner, the thought of Octavia being put in that position again, seeing Aran with a gun to his head.

"I just need this to be over, Aran. I need to see him in his rightful place." I sighed, pushing my nose into his neck, intertwining my fingers with his, and finding the steady beat of his heart to be a soothing lullaby.