15 - Torn Clarity

Focus fizzles to a pinprick as I glare at Darius. He cannot meet my eyes. Instead, he stares down at the mangled wolf, brows pinched, features drawn tight with unease.

In a blur of cinnamon and musk and security, Rowan is at my side. Attentive and alarmed, his golden gaze darts from me to the dark woods and back, as though equally keen to check me over and make sure that creature doesn't return.

Lachlan and Kay are with him, surveying the looming trees with steely focus.

I stash my knife in its belt, the furious hiss breaking through the tense silence that has descended over us.

Matteo falters between us and his former pack. His frame is wound tight with tension and when he speaks, his voice is strained. Brittle. Horrified. "Answer him, Darius. What the fuck was that?"

"That," the alpha manages, "was a lycanthrope."

"A... a what?"

"I told you it wasn't safe. I told you to leave because there's no saving us," Milo speaks up, his eyes wild with desperation. "Now you know why."

"You knew?" Rowan demands, his tone wavering with thinly-concealed horror. "That thing has been out here this whole time and you didn't think to warn us?"

Surrounded by the alert circle of my family, and with tentative crickets breaking the quiet, the smothering blanket of my Haze starts to fall away.

No, no. Don't fucking go anywhere. That creature's still out there. Come back.

Agony surges forwards; a tidal wave breaking all around me and stealing the strength from my limbs. I'm hurt. Badly.

I stifle a gasp of pain as my legs give way beneath me. My side and shoulder are on fire. I think of the hunters, of the bullets tearing through me, and then I think, oh fuck.

Within the instant, Rowan is right there with me, sliding a supportive arm around my back to hold me up. "I have you," he vows.

Lachlan manifests at my free side, his eyes alight with golden fear as he checks me over. "Shit, Riv, that's a lot of blood."

"I know," I gasp.

"No exit wounds," he adds when his exploration of my form leads him to my back. He turns to level the heat of his attention elsewhere— at Darius, I presume, but my world is rapidly closing in around me. "We need a doctor now. And then you're going to explain what the fuck is going on here."

"Milo, go and wake Jace. Tell him to come to the pack house and bring his supplies."

Things get a little blurry, after that. Rowan asks if I can walk. I nod, pain stealing my breath and strength, but I must falter because he lifts me carefully into his arms regardless.

Just as well. Focus is detaching, leaving me floating in a fog of dizziness.

Someone is barking orders— something about patrols and borders and cleaning up messes.

I'm vaguely aware that Rowan is moving fast, but I can't quite lift my head from his shoulder to check where we are. Assuring voices surround me. Stay awake. You're alright. We've got you.

Without my Haze to soften the agony, it lances liquid fire through my veins. I can heal quickly — much faster than a human whether I'm Hazing or not — but not if the bullets are lodged inside me. Not if they're stopping the process.

Someone's pressing down hard against my shoulder and side, a fierce pressure that wrenches a strangled cry from my throat. Through my rapidly darkening vision, I see a balled-up jumper stained crimson and unyielding hands holding it in place.

Awareness flickers for what feels like an instant, and I suddenly find myself bathed in a bright light and surrounded by a whole lot of panic.

"Oh— is he alright?!" a high, feminine voice gasps. "Where's Jace?"

"On his way."

"Get him inside, in the lounge."

Ever so gently, Rowan sets me down on the floor and settles at my back, holding me to him steadfast as Lach, Kay and Teo crouch before me. Lachlan's chest is bare and he holds the bloody remnants of his jumper against the wounds. Somewhere along the way, I've lost my top, too.

"You're okay," Rowan says, though I'm not sure whether he's trying to convince me or himself. "Help's coming."

"No," I manage, my voice shuddering as I tilt my head back against his shoulder to see him better. Clarity is a timid candle flame fighting hard against the smothering darkness. "I don't— I don't want their help."

"You need it, love," he argues, patience keeping his tone even as he smooths down my hair to move it out of my eyes.

I take hold of his wrist to keep him there. "Not them. Please."

I gaze up at him, desperation a flame burning behind my eyes. I trust you, not them.

His brows pinch as he studies me. Whatever he sees has resolve sharpening in his eyes. He glances up towards the others. "Lach, get your phone. Teo, can you fetch that first-aid kit Morgan sent with us? Kay, keep pressure on those, will you?"

Though he doesn't raise his voice, the power behind his calm command has the others rushing to obey him.

Agony flares beneath Kay's attention; a breathless moan of pain rushes out of me.

"I'm sorry," they manage, eyes wide with terror. "I'm so sorry, Riv. You're okay. You're gonna be fine."

Not long after, Teo falls to his knees at their side, the kit clutched in his hands. Without preamble, he opens it and rifles through. "What am I after? Painkillers?"

A flicker of clarity hauls me right back a month to the day Orion forced a Haze on me, to the day Liliana shot me in my side with a crossbow, to the day that fucking painkiller knocked me into a dark, endless depth for over a day.

"No. Fuck no," I insist, shoving up against Rowan's embrace. It ripped the pain apart, but I can handle pain. What I can't handle is falling that far in case that creature— that lycanthrope comes back. I won't leave my family defenceless against that thing.

The sharp movement brings another wave of pain that tears my escape attempt to shreds. Dizziness crashes down over me.

Anticipating my struggle, Rowan coaxes me back down with ease. "Alright, love. We need to get those bullets out. If it gets too much, we'll have to use something. Lach— call Morgan."

"Jace is here, let him—" I vaguely recognise Darius' voice in the doorway, though he sounds more tentative and unsure than I'm used to.

"You have half a dozen wolves injured from that hunter attack. See to them, and we'll see to River," Lachlan dismisses as he crouches down before me. He holds his phone in his hand. "You there, Morgan?"

"I'm here. What's happened?" Her voice comes through tired yet determined; a breath of fresh air. Relief sparks within me, but the pain is fighting dirty and demanding every shred of my focus.

"Riv's been shot. Twice."

"Fucking hell, stray," Beau chastises, his sleepy voice a welcome distraction. "If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was call. Getting shot is a bit dramatic, even for you."

I hear Morgan shoo him away. "Are there any exit wounds?"

"No, none."

"You'll have to do some digging, then." Then, quieter, as though she has pulled the phone away from her, I hear, "I swear to the Goddess, Beau, if you make a dog joke right now—"

"Who, us?" Kay asks, blanching a little.

"I'll do it," Lachlan decides, handing the phone off to them. "Talk me through it, Mor."

Matteo, who has been rifling through the kit, offers the gamma some kind of forceps. "You sure you don't want that painkiller?" he asks me, brows pinching above eyes sparking golden with panic.

"I don't want it," I manage as Rowan tightens his embrace— either in assurance or to keep me still, I'm not sure.

"I'm so sorry, River," Lachlan says.

And then my world collapses into a haze of excruciating pain. It strips clarity to shreds.

Rowan's hand clamps over my mouth to stifle the scream that rushes out of me. More hands hold me firmly against the floor, keeping my desperate struggles and jerks contained.

I try hard to keep still, but my body has a will of its own, cringing away from the source of pain like it's on fire.

My scream breaks off into desperate gasps for air. Shadows claw at the edges of my vision.

"Fuck, I can't watch this," Kay manages, their wavering voice an insubstantial tug on my collapsing awareness. Through the fire, I catch a flicker of tears streaming down their cheeks, of pinched brows above glistening eyes as they help to hold me down.

"You don't have to look, just don't let go," Matteo returns, determination holding his voice steady. "You're doing great, Lach. Keep going."

When my wandering focus leads me to the gamma, I immediately wish it didn't. Brows drawn tight with unwavering focus, eyes shimmering golden, he stares intently down at my side. His forceps are lodged in a steadily growing pool of crimson. As I watch, relief sparks in his eyes as he carefully extracts the forceps.

"I got it. I got it."

"Shh, don't look at him," Rowan breathes against the shell of my ear, gently coaxing my focus towards him. "Look at me, love. That's it. Keep looking at me. You're doing so well."

He tries hard to conceal any alarm, schooling his features into clinical indifference, but I catch the blaze of fear burning behind his golden eyes.

Another wave of agony — this time focused on the meat of my shoulder — has a whimpering moan escaping me. My head feels airy, clarity detaching. Thank fuck.

"I know, I know," Rowan murmurs. He cradles me to him with fierce dedication. "We have to stop ending up like this," he adds with a timid whisper of a smile.

"I didn't fight them without you on purpose," I mumble deliriously against his hand, my eyes fluttering against a leaden weight. "I just— I couldn't... couldn't sleep."

Somehow, he hears me. "I know you didn't. You have to stay awake a little longer, okay? Just so we know you're alright. River."

I try. I really do try. I hear his voice as though he's calling to me from the top of a well. Distant. Echoing. Darkness enshrouds me and, before I can stop myself, I'm falling.

– ➶ –

When that smothering darkness falls away, awareness creeps guiltily back.

I'm lying somewhere comfortable, fingers carding gently through my hair. Fatigue weighs down my limbs. Pins and needles prickle in my veins. I feel weak and cold, with dizziness lurking at the edges of my mind and nausea whispering unpleasant warnings in my gut. The pain has faded a little, mercifully. Instead of a blazing inferno, it's merely vengeful embers. That counts for something.

It takes a deeper level of strength to push past the lurking tendrils of darkness, to force myself awake, but flickers of that creature's gaping jaws and sinewy form covered in matted fur and blood help rouse me. My eyes flutter open weakly.

I find myself sprawled on a sofa in the lounge of Darius and Imogen's cottage, my family knelt on the floor at my side. Kay, Teo and Lach appear in varying states of awareness, with the former resting their head in their hand looking moments from falling asleep and with the latter checking the pulse in my wrist against his phone. It's Rowan's fingers in my hair, and his bronze eyes study me closely. The moment I meet his gaze, a relieved smile touches his lips.

"Hey, love," he greets warmly, tilting his head to better meet my bleary gaze. "How are you feeling?"

At his voice, the others startle to clarity and shuffle attentively closer.

"Like shit," I mumble, tensing to sit up.

"Take it easy," he chastises as he helps me up with Lach. "You've only been out for about twenty minutes. You're healing already, but you lost a lot of blood."

I find a bandage wrapped around my midsection and another around my shoulder. Both are sporting a blot of crimson the size of a coin.

Strength seeps away and I melt against the back of the sofa with a deep, shuddering breath. "Feels like it." I catch Lachlan's attentive gaze and say, "Thank you."

He offers me a weak smile. "You're welcome. You need to stop scaring us like that, Riv."

"At least you gave as good as you got," Matteo says, his form wilting with relief as he checks me over.

At his side, Kay hugs themselves, looking a little sick. "I'm glad you're alright, River. Just please don't do that again. I almost passed out with you."

"They're not very good with blood," Teo explains, giving them a rallying nudge. "Especially not loads of it coming out of open bullet wounds."

"Yes, thanks for the reminder," they retort with a light scowl, a little of their humour returning. "As if I don't already have that image burned into my brain."

I scan the room, but we appear to be alone. The curtains aren't drawn and the woods outside are bathed in darkness. I check fervently for crimson eyes to no avail.

"They've gone to check on the wolves you saved," Rowan says, noticing where my attention has wandered as he takes a seat at my side. "Darius said they'll be back soon to talk, if you're up for it. This pack owes you a life debt, Riv. If you weren't there, those hunters would've stormed right through their defence."

Given my body still feels weak and watery from blood loss — not to mention most of my energy is devoted to healing the bullet wounds — I melt against him and rest my head on his shoulder. The others disperse, with Kay and Matteo retreating to the other sofa and Lachlan taking a seat on my free side.

A shadow lurks at the edges of our conversation, prowling, waiting to be mentioned. I don't want to break the spell of indifference, but I know I must.

"Rowan, what the fuck is a lycanthrope?"

He blows out a heavy, shaking breath, wrapping his arm around me. "I have no idea. But I think we've found out what's been killing werewolves."