Chapter 82: Homestead: Part 4

I can be mad at Colton, hurt by him, but he’s my alpha right now, and I need to look to him for leadership and to keep us all safe.

If all I do is argue and carry a grudge, I’ll make it harder for myself.

The pack, this house, this place, it’s where I’m meant to be through this, and I need to put this shit aside and stop thinking about myself for a little while.

I need to stop thinking about how what he did broke my heart when the priority is everyone else and Sierra right now.

“This is not the little sub-pack and hideout I imagined it would be.” Doc infiltrates my thoughts, appearing beside me with that soothing English dialect that’s becoming like a warm hug, and I have to smile at that.

“Me either. I knew nothing of what’s happened since I left. It’s crazy.” I shrug, eyeing up the room with a sigh.

“Yes, Colton gave me a condensed version as we wheeled Sierra in.

“He looks as tired as I feel, and we’re both sagging over here, probably just as eager for a bed as the other to lie down for a little while, but both of us have to be here.

“Although, I’m rather glad that we ended up in a place that ensures I have time to wake her safely. I don’t need to rush and risk her body going into shock.

“This was definitely your Fates guiding the way and providing us with ample shelter for a very difficult task.”

“How long do you think that will take?” I ask genuinely, eager to see Colton finally get to reunite with her after all these years. Eyes fall on that beautiful man as he tends to his mom lovingly.

“We’ve come up with a plan to slow down and stop the sedation meds over forty-eight hours, to let her brain come out of the coma of its own accord.

“We’ll monitor her, keep her stabilized, and adjust as she progresses. She might have a few days in a vegetative state where it seems like we’ve lost her—that’s normal.

“Eight years is a long time to live in a dream world, and the mind is a complex piece of hardware that sometimes requires a reset period.

“We’ll just take this as it comes and hope she’ll be one of the rare cases of long-term coma patients to come out and be able to interact within mere days.”

He nods, a look of relative confidence on that lowered brow.

“She’s a wolf. I say stack your bets on the positive side,” I say, perking him up with a cheeky smile, and it gets a little one in return.

“Quite!”

“I don’t know where we go from here,” I point out, nodding at Colton across the room, not meaning just him and me, trying to hide the longing that crosses my face.

Doc nudges me with his shoulder. “I’m a believer that a good cup of tea and a long chat usually resolve many of life’s issues.

“Problems that seem overwhelming are sometimes just smoke and mirrors, and getting it all out is sometimes the only way forward.”

He raises those bushy, gray brows with a knowing expression.

I nudge him back. “Like confessing all to a strange girl who fell into your medical facility?” I smirk.

“Exactly. Sometimes you must throw away your entire life’s work, put your trust in a higher power, no matter how many signs are killing your hopes, and know they won’t steer you wrong if you stop fighting it.”

His eyes stray to Colton, which has the annoying effect of dragging my vision back to him.

That strong, upright figure looks a little too inviting while framed by the light from the lamp over Sierra’s bed. Always so unruffled, even in the face of a storm.

He’s solid, calm, and takes it all in his stride.

“Good advice, Doc. Not so easy to follow, but yeah… I guess.” I exhale heavily, feeling hopeless when he’s over there, looking like everything I need to cure me of my eternal agony.

“We’ll figure this out together, young lady. After all, you are our savior.” He throws his arm around me awkwardly, squeezes me, and then drops it just as quickly.

It’s as though he crossed some boundary that threw him well outside of his comfort zone.

I get the overwhelming surge of flustered, eccentric cringing at his public display of affection and let out an involuntary giggle.

“I guess I better go white-flag the alpha until we can see where all this is going. Might make life easier if I give him a few days’ grace,” I say, shrugging.

I know Colton probably could use less stress until Sierra wakes up.

“He’s young, headstrong, stubborn like his mother, and still finding his feet in his new role. Go easy on him. He has the world on his shoulders, and he needs a little help in holding it up.

“His head is not quite where it should be.” Doc glances at him and then off to the femme medic across the other side, who waves him to her.

Taking the hint, I nod and push off to walk toward Colton, leaving Doc to wander back to the femme in the corner, pouring over some clipboard as she jots things down.

I take a leveling breath, push all my rioted feelings into one tiny box, and sit on them for now. I’m determined to be civil and not let everything ooze out of me while he needs a friend.

I approach him from behind, and like in the truck, he’s so zoned in on his mom that he doesn’t acknowledge me coming close until I get right up beside him and lean in to look at her.

I eye her up now that she’s settled in here, and it’s odd, but I swear she has more color to her pallor, and her hair looks a little shinier.

It’s almost like she knows she isn’t alone anymore and that she’s surrounded by her people and their love, even if it sounds ridiculous.

Seeing them together like this highlights how much he looks like her now he’s an adult.

He always had her strong DNA with the same profile, small nose, and perfect bone structure of two very beautiful people, the dark hair and straight brows.

But Sierra is noticeably pale compared to the tan Colton has all year round. She is lithe and feminine in her build, though, and Colton, well, he’s your typical muscular, tall, and built alpha-type.

He has more muscles than brains sometimes, and he has a nice ass.

A nurse pushes a stool up behind me with a smile and nod, and I take it gratefully, sitting beside Colton and trying hard not to reach out to touch him.

He looks so lost in the moment, eyes fixed on her. So many thoughts must be running through his head.

It’s like watching a pained child trying to figure something out, and that maternal instinct in me revs up a thousand watts and makes sitting here unbearable.

“I can’t believe she’s really here… that she’s real. The times I have dreamed of seeing her again,” he whispers, that sexy voice low and rough.

It alerts me that he’s aware I’m beside him after all, and I relax into the seat, propping my feet up on the bar and leaning toward him slightly.

I am suddenly consumed with fierce protectiveness over him when he seems this vulnerable.

“I’m just glad that we got her here. That you came when I found her.” What else can I say? Nothing I can add right now will ease the tension as we wait, and he knows everything I do about all of this.

“How could he do this to her? How could he not love her the way he was supposed to?” His eyes run back to her face.

He once again strokes her hair, and he’s so lost in his feelings that he overlooks my sarcastic eyebrow lift and tilted chin gesture I give him.

That’s an excellent question, Colton. You might know, given you clearly have the same flaws! Why couldn’t you?

I shake it out of my head before he senses my attitude, scolding myself for such an impulsive response, but still, he is dense sometimes.

I know this projecting crap will only make me mad, and I don’t bite or say it out loud, but goddamn it, Colton. Really?

I know he doesn’t need this right now, so I sigh it away, breathe slowly, count to ten, sit a little taller, and focus on what he needs instead.

I remind myself that this is bigger than us. I have to be less irate.

“He betrayed the mate bond. He doesn’t deserve her,” I point out flatly, then curse myself under my breath for still pushing it out there, even if I didn’t mean to.

It’s like everything we are saying is so damned obvious, yet Colton doesn’t even click.

He doesn’t move or react, just that same silent, fixed stare as he watches her breathe, eyes on her closed lids, and sits.

I feel like screaming and hitting him over the head with the nearest hard object, but instead, I stare at the ceiling for a minute and let it pass. Sooo slowly.