Waxing Gibbous

Chapter 8

A slicing pain tore through Tegan’s sleep and through her body. She bolted upright, clutching her side and hollering in agony. She scanned the room looking for Storm but found nothing but darkness and shadows. He had left on his flight and had never come back, she realized.

Storm! She called out automatically, hoping that he could answer her through their mental connection. She panicked when the only response was a concentrated silence.

A hard pounding on her door brought her head around. It couldn’t be Storm because he would have walked right in.

“Tegan, are you alright?” yelled a muffled voice beyond the door. It was male, but definitely not Storm’s.

She suddenly found it hard to breathe. It felt like the life was being choked out of her. Shucking the blankets from her body, she scrambled out of bed, noticed she was naked, and threw on the first thing she got her hands on as well as her sneakers. She had to find her familiar. She had to find Storm before it was too late. Tegan wrenched open the door and there stood Ulrick, his meaty fist poised to bang against the wood again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, catching the stricken look playing on her features. His eyes scanned her and then beyond into the room, looking for the cause of her distress.

“It’s Storm. He’s…something’s happened!” she yelled in a panic, dashing around him and down to the front door. She threw it open, taking off into the night. She came to a stop in the middle of the vast lawn, opening ever single sense and bond that bound her to her familiar. Tegan concentrated with all the strength coursing through her to find Storm before it was too late. She could feel the faint beats of his heart fluttering lightly, trying to keep his body alive but failing. He was weaving in and out of consciousness. Pain sliced in her shoulder and Tegan had to keep from crying out. She could feel everything that he was being subjected to, making it harder for her to focus.

Ulrick burst out of the door seconds after, his heavy footfalls coming to a rest beside her.

“Storm!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, trying to get a response – anything that would lead her to him. She received nothing but the own echoing of her voice in the still night air.

Then her hackles rose, the tiny hairs covering her body standing at end. Sweat broke out on her skin. Chills tingled along her body. Something was definitely not right. Something evil was on this island, something wicked and dangerous…something vengeful.

“Tegan?” called Soren from her right. She whipped her head in the direction of his voice. He had just emerged from the forest, his clothes balled up in his hands as he covered his nudity from her. It was obvious that he had been out and frolicking about as a wolf.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, brows furrowed. His questioning gaze swung from her to his father.

“I need to find Storm!” she yelled frantically, the hysteria creeping into her tone and raising it an octave. She turned around in a circle, her hands coming to rest on top of her head as she pulled slightly at the hair there. She was trying to discern his location through there bond but couldn’t really get a bead on it. All she could feel was the pain taking over his body, the dimming of his life-force.

“Where did he go?” Soren questioned in confusion. He took a few cautious steps in her direction, approaching as if she held an activated bomb in her hand.

“He said he was going out to fly. I was in bed but when I woke up, he was…he was hurt by something. I don’t know what it is, but there is something terribly wrong on the island,” she choked on emotion, a tremor of terror winding up her spine.

“I’ll turn into a wolf and help you find him.” He lifted his face, flaring his nostrils. He sniffed the air, turning his head to and fro. “I can smell him. He’s not too far off, but he’s hurt. Come on,” Soren said. He dropped his clothes to the ground and turned into his canine counterpart. A shimmery purple aura blasted out from beneath his skin. It resembled the aura that had encased Storm’s body when he had reverted back to his human form. It only took a few seconds and Soren’s furry face was looking up at her, his long pink tongue hanging out of his mouth as he panted.

Beside her, Ulrick motioned in the direction of his son. “Follow Soren closely. I’ll send some of the pack out to scout the island for anything suspicious.”

Tegan nodded and walked over to where Soren was standing. He gave the air another experimental sniff and then he was off, trotting toward a dense thatch of pine trees. She gave chase, using the glimmer of the pale moonlight against his white fur as a beacon.

While they searched, images of Storm maimed and in danger flashed through her mind. She was horrified by the gruesome picture show reeling around in her frantic brain. Her rampant heart was nearly bursting with fright. Tegan only hoped that they got to him in time. She could feel that her familiar was still alive, but not by much. She had to get to him. She had to save him from whatever was slaughtering him.

They finally came to a stop in a small clearing somewhere on the island. Across it, she saw Storm’s owl body sprawled in a thicket of weeds. Atop him snarled a lynx, pinning the bird down with one paw, ready to land the final blow with the other.

Soren ran faster toward the trouble. He leapt in the air and tackled the big cat off her familiar. The cat hissed and took a swipe at Soren, catching him across the chest. Soren yelped and pulled back, giving the lynx an opening. It took it, bolting into the forest and away from the larger animal. Soren shook off the injury and pursued the beast, leaving Tegan all alone to tend to Storm.

She fell to her knees beside her battered other half.

“Oh, Storm,” she whispered in a raspy, broken voice. Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “Please, get up.”

She reached out with a shaking hand and touched him, stroking the ruffled feathers across his breast. She could feel the faint rising and falling of his chest. He was barely alive and unconscious. His wing was bent at a funny angle and she feared that it might be broken. Crimson dripped from slashes ripped through his feathers and flesh. As carefully as she could, she scooped him up in her arms, cradling him with all the care as she would a newborn infant.

Tegan walked swiftly and carefully through the forest, retracing the path Soren had led them. It was hard to see anything, but with a little luck, she made it back to the huge white house without getting too banged up. She spotted Ulrick pacing back and forth on the porch, waiting for someone – anyone – to give him word on what was going on. He must have heard her come through the yard because he picked his head up and looked directly at her.

Without trying to jostle her precious cargo too much, she carefully – yet hastily – climbed up the stairs and took him inside.

“Where do you want to put him?” Ulrick asked, opening the front door for her. He followed her into the vestibule waiting for an answer.

“I’m taking him to our room. I think it will be more comfortable for him there,” she said, walking through the house to the stairs and mounting them to the second floor.

Ulrick followed and opened the bedroom door as well. Tegan carried him in and slowly laid the owl on the bed.

“Storm,” she murmured, delicately running her fingers down his side. “Can you hear me?” He moved the uninjured wing a little. “I need you to turn back into your human form. Please,” she begged. “Can you do this for me?”

His large, pain-filled eyes lulled open. They were unfocused as they tried to find her.

Please shift back to human, Storm, she urged mentally, hoping that she got through to him somehow.

It must have registered in one way or another because he took a shuddering breath in and his avian form started to shift back. It was in a much slower process than before and strange to behold. The white radiance enveloped him. The feathers of his wings folded in themselves becoming flesh once more. His feathery legs elongated and his taloned feet stretched back into human form. His chest expended and black hair sprouted from the bird’s head.

Once back in his man body, she started to assess the damage. There were bloody scratches that ripped along his shoulder and a matching set along his side and thigh. He had bruises blooming all over and his sticky blood coated his skin. There was even a gash on his head that was steadily gushing. The sheets became covered in red droplets in minutes.

“Oh…my god,” she gasped. She needed to clean him up and stop the bleeding. But what if this was superficial damage and the real injuries weren’t visible? What if he had something ruptured and there was internal bleeding?

“I cannot discern any internal damage,” Ulrick said as if he had read her thoughts. "I would be able to smell it and he would be in worse condition if that were the case. Where is Soren?”

Tegan squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed. “He went out after the thing that did this.”

“Did you see what it was?”

She opened her eyes to glance at him and shook her head. “It was…a big cat. Like a lynx or something. I don’t know. It all happened so fast that I can’t remember.”

The alpha expelled an agitated sigh. “I’m going to go find my son. I do not want him out there alone with unknown dangers lurking about. I’ll send in one of the maids to bring you anything that you need to help your familiar and to help you bandage him up. I’ll be back to check on you later. Are you going to be all right?” He stared at her with intent brown eyes, waiting for an answer.

She nodded her head gravely and the pack leader took off in search of his heir. Tegan went back over to Storm and brushed the unruly dark hair out of his eyes. He was deathly still and his breathing was wheezy and shallow. The bruises and cuts stood out in stark contrast against his ashy white skin. It looked like death was slithering in.

How was she going to turn this tragedy around?

Someone cleared their throat at the doorway to get her attention. She looked up at the little maid that had taken her to Ulrick’s office hours ago. In her hands, she held a bowl and a box filled with medical supplied and washcloths.

“Ulrick said you’d need these,” she whispered in a mousy voice. It was hard to believe that she could turn into a wolf when she was so…nonthreatening. She wasn’t very big or strong in appearance. She looked more like she would turn into a bunny instead of a predator.

“Thank you,” Tegan said. “Can you place it all beside the bed, please?”

She gave a curt nod then set the bowl on the nightstand and the box beside the bed. “Will you be needing anything else, ma’am?”

Tegan thought for a moment while she looked down at Storm. His wounds were still oozing blood but not as much as before. They didn’t look very deep now that he had shifted, but they still needed care. Looking them over, she was reminded of something from her childhood. When she was a kid, she had been clumsy, falling out of trees, falling off her bike, scraping up her hands and knees. Her mother had always used a balm on it that had healed the injuries quickly. It had been fairly simple to make and didn’t require many ingredients. The only problem lay in if the ingredients were available. She doubted they had the stuff she needed lying around but it didn’t hurt to find out.

“What is your name?” Tegan asked the maid who was waiting patiently for a reply. She was trying to get her not to be so shy around her. It made Tegan feel awkward because she wasn’t anything dangerous and it was absurd for any of them to fear her wrath.

“It is Mariah, ma’am,” she replied in the same low, unassuming voice.

“Please, call me Tegan, Mariah. Do…you think that you can do something for me?”

Mariah inclined her head gracefully. “Anything you wish, ma…Lady Tegan.”

She sighed and let that pass. Arguing with the skittish maid would only frighten her off.

“I need you to gather some things so I can make a salve.” Tegan rattled off a list of items and the little maid went in search of all the ingredients needed.

Tegan hoped that she hadn’t forgotten anything that she would need. It was something that required very little. She remember when she had been a little girl, sniffling in the kitchen while her mother made the coconut scented balm that she rubbed against the scraps and cuts on her knees and elbows. She had always chastised Tegan for being so reckless and clumsy. While her mother cooked up the unguent, she would tell Tegan everything that went into it and what it did. When applied, it had eased all the pain and helped mend the torn flesh without much scarring.

Hopefully this would help ease the pain that Storm was in.

Tegan picked up one of the washcloths off the pile and dipped it into the steaming bowl of water. She rung out the access then pressed it against Storm’s face, cleaning away the blood splatter and dirt smudges. At least he skin wasn’t as pale anymore. There was actually color returning to his cheeks. It was a good sign and had Tegan letting out a breath of air she hadn’t been aware that she was holding. But she wouldn’t be completely relaxed until he opened his grey eyes and told her that he was all right.

“I don’t know what else to do for you,” she murmured, wiping away the caked on grime coating his chest. She grabbed a fresh cloth and repeated the process until he was clean from head to toe. She checked that wound on his head. The deep cut was sluggishly leaking and the blood was clotting and tangling in his hair. Even those beautiful feathers were stained with red.

She checked his arm – the one that had been the injured wing – but it no longer seemed broken. It was just covered in black and blue bruises and there was swelling. Maybe shifting back had mended it together somehow. She pulled out bandages and gauze pads from the box and taped them over his cuts. When she was done, she put everything away and stayed next to him on the bed, waiting for him to make the slightest of movement or sound.

“Come back to me, Storm.” Tegan reached out and touched his face with her fingertips. “Please, just come back to me.”

The knock on the door was light and Tegan knew that Mariah had returned.

“Come in,” she called out.

The door cracked open only a smidgen and Mariah’s youthful face appeared. “I was able to gather everything that you wanted. I put it all in the kitchen like you asked, milady.”

Tegan offered her a thin smile. “Thank you. Can you show me the way?”

“Yes. Follow me, please.”

Tegan stood up and leaned over Storm. “I’m trying everything I can,” she whispered. She kissed him on the forehead, letting her lips linger for a while, taking in the warmth of his skin before pulling away. With one final glance at his still body, she closed the door softly.

The kitchen that Mariah led her to was huge. It looked like something you would find in a grand, elegant restaurant. There were rows of ovens and stoves, long counter tops and plenty of room to move around in. There was a walk-in refrigerator and freezer most likely packed full with food. Pots and pans and utensils were stacked on racks. She was sure that this place would have just about everything she needed.

On one of the tables, all the ingredients to make the balm were lined up. She was impressed with the efficiency of the wolves and told Mariah as much. She hadn’t expected to find fresh herbs this fast and at this time of year.

“We have our ways. We all do what we can to help you, ma’am.”

Tegan darted her tongue out and ran it across her lips in thought. “You wouldn’t happen to have an old grimy pan around here or, say, a cauldron lying around, would you?”

The maid smiled and walked around her. She was roughly the same height as Tegan, maybe a tiny bit shorter. She went to one of the cabinets below the counter and withdrew a cast iron cauldron that resembled the mini one she had used to cook the tea in during the ritual.

“Thank you for all your help. I really appreciate it. While I am busy making this, can you go up and see if Storm is okay for me? I need someone to watch him and make sure he doesn’t get any worse,” Tegan said. She took the pot and placed it on the stove.

“It would be my pleasure. If anything happens, I’ll come and alert you right away.” With another bow, she scurried out of the room.

“All right,” Tegan sighed, grabbing the beeswax from the pile of items. “Let’s hope I get this right.”

“Get what right?” someone asked, coming to join her in the kitchen.

She turned toward the sound of the voice. Soren was standing in the doorframe looking at her with a somber expression. There was the smallest of winces crinkling the corners of his eyes and his mouth was set in a frown.

“I’m making a salve for some of the cuts Storm has. It will help them heal better. My mom always used to make it when I was little because I was always getting hurt. I figured that maybe it would work for him, too,” she explained, putting the wax in the cauldron and turning on the heat. She grabbed a dark jar on the table and put it in one of the freezers.

“Do you mind if I stay with you for a little while?” he inquired.

She gave him a sideways glance. Asking was such an un-Soren thing to do. Normally, he would do whatever he damn well pleased. He was slowly walking closer, or rather, limping toward her.

“You’re hurt,” she remarked.

“Nothing too bad,” he said nonchalantly with the shrug of his shoulders.

“But you’re limping.” She motioned to a bar stool beside her. “Have a seat.”

He took her up on the offer and settled on the chair. He seemed tired and worn out, but Tegan could also register his pain. She didn’t question how she knew it. It was just there, pressing in on her as a secondhand emotion.

“What happened after you took off? Did you catch that…thing?” she asked. She checked on the pot and stirred the melting beeswax.

“No, it got away, but not after doing me in one good.” He watched her while she grabbed a knife and started chopping up the herbs that were scattered across the countertop. Comfrey and goldenseal – to help alleviate pain and aid in the healing process if she remember what her mother told her correctly – was added to the pot. She stirred for a few minutes, letting the oils from the plants infuse, and then turned it off. Above the stove, Tegan grabbed a bowl and put the wax mixture into it. She then went to the freezer and pulled out a jar filled with thick white stuff. She opened the container and the smell of coconuts filtered through the air. She scooped up some of the cold gunk and stirred it into the concoction.

“Do you know where I could find a strainer and an empty jar?” She beat the spoon on the side of the bowl to remove the excess then stirred everything together.

He opened a cabinet above his head and pulled out a metal sieve then opened one beside it and pulled out a glass jug with a lid that had metal clips. “Will these do?”

“Yes, thank you.” She took them from him and scooped the chunky white cream into the strainer. She pushed it through the mesh to take out all the impurities and strained the finished product into the jar. Once that was done, she put the lid on and stuck it into the freezer to cool down a little more.

“So, how bad did that thing hurt you?” she asked.

He was quiet for a while. She figured he wasn’t going to answer her – or was just ignoring her – so she started picking everything up on the counter. She threw out the scraps left from the herbs. Not really knowing what to do with the extra beeswax and coconut oil, she pushed it off to the side. She was about to start cleaning off the countertops when Soren grabbed her attention.

“I’ll have one of the maids finish this. Let’s go see Storm. I can tell you’re worried about him,” Soren suggested. She nodded and grabbed the concoction out of the freezer and followed the werewolf to her bedroom. Mariah looked up from the side of the bed she was sitting on and blushed when she saw Soren had entered the room as well. Before she departed from the room, Soren took her to the side and asked her if she could take care of the kitchen. She nodded and left the three all alone.

Tegan noticed that Soren’s limping had gotten worse. In fact, there was blood leaking through his shirt and the stain was growing bigger and bigger. He was obviously hurt worse than he was letting on.


~*~


After she checked up on Storm and put some of the cream on his injuries, she turned to Soren and frowned. “Have a seat, Soren. You shouldn’t be up and about while you’re hurt like that.”

“I’m fine,” he said defiantly. “I’m not some puny whelp in need of motherly care.”

But she waved him off, grabbing his hand and pulling him to a chair in the corner of the room. He settled down in the cushion and sighed with relief. The throbbing ache was getting almost unbearable, but he wasn’t going to admit it out loud. He was just shamefully maimed by a cat; he was at least going to have some pride left to him.

“Let me see,” Tegan said quietly, crouching in front of his knees.

He looked down at her, confusion wrinkling his brow. “What?”

“Your wounds.” She pointed at him, or rather a dark spot blooming on the upper part of his chest. “You’re bleeding through your shirt. Now, lift it up and let me see.”

“I already said it’s not that bad.”

“Soren, I’m in no mood to argue. Now, doff the shirt or I’ll whack you in the head until you do.”

Grumbling under his breath, he peeled the Haynes away. By Tegan’s deep inhale, he could tell she saw more into the gouges running down his chest than just a few scratches that would heal up in a few days. He had caught up to the big cat and wrestled it to the ground. But he hadn’t been quick enough and had ended up with slashes down his chest and arms as well as puncture marks on his leg from where it had bitten him.

“Does it hurt?” she asked softly.

“Of course it hurts, stupid!” Soren ground out through gritted teeth as she prodded the wound.

“I thought you said it wasn’t bad, you liar! Wait here. I’ll clean it up,” Tegan mumbled, pushing up from the floor. She grabbed a bowl off the bedside table and left. She returned seconds later with the bowl full of fresh steaming water and grabbed a clean washcloth from a pile on the nightstand. She set the bowl down on the table in front of Soren and kneeled in front of him. He watched as she dipped the cloth in hot water, wrung out the excess then brought it to his chest. He hissed as she ran it over the wounds, washing away the blood oozing out.

“I suppose you wouldn’t be too keen on licking them closed for me, would you?” he asked in jest, trying to break the static silence that had settled on them like an itchy blanket.

“Don’t push it, wolf-boy,” she mumbled, rinsing out the cloth and then swiped it across his belly again. When she was satisfied with her work, she went back to the bedside table and picked up the jar filled with the ointment she had made.

“Why are you going to use that on me? I can heal fine without it,” he asked, motioning to what she held in her hand.

“This will help take the pain away and help you mend faster. It won’t hurt you to use it.” She popped open the metal clips holding the lid in place then settled back in position before him.

Tegan stuck her fingers into the goo and gathered a healthy dollop. The soothing scent of coconut and herbs filled the air. She rubbed it around in the palm of her hand using her body heat to warm it up a little. She ran a finger through the white cream and then slathered it along the lengthy gouges grooved in his flesh. They started at his shoulder and ran down to beneath his ribs. He hissed with the initial contact but after she put the unguent on, the burning pain in the wounds began to cease.

After she got the last of the scratches on his chest, she looked up hopeful. “Better?” she asked softly.

He nodded. “The sting has gone away. What’s in that witchy concoction of yours?”

She smirked up at him. “It’s a secret. I can’t go around telling you everything I know.”

He snorted. “I thought you didn’t know anything of magick.”

“Like I said, my mother always used to make this. It’s like a witch’s version of Neosporin I suppose.” She shrugged. “It works faster, it doesn’t have a billion artificial chemicals in it, and I like coconuts. I think it’s the only thing remedial my mother ever taught me to make. Who’d have thought it would ever come in handy. Now let me see your arm.” She wiped the dried blood away and put ointment on the marks on his arm.

“How is your boy doing?” He tossed his head in Storm’s direction.

She bit her lip then licked it, a habit that always appeared when she was distressed about something. “I don’t know. He didn’t seem that hurt and your father said that there wasn’t internal bleeding or anything. He was semi-conscious when I got him to bed. I was able to at least get him to transform back into his human form.” A tear rolled down her cheek and she looked away. “I don’t know what to do, Soren. I feel completely helpless because I don’t know what’s wrong and I have no idea how to fix him.”

The depressing mood was almost strangling. He hated the feeling. It was something all too familiar and each time he experienced it, it was more difficult than the last. All the death, destruction, and anguish he had lived with and seen other people go through in his short life had been enough to last six lifetimes. And he didn’t want that for Tegan.

Soren leaned forward, wincing as his wounds pinched with the movement. He took her face in his hands and wiped her tears away. “You’ll figure it out, Tegan. I’ll even help,” he offered.

She turned her head toward him. “Really? I thought that you hated Storm. Why would you help me help him?”

“Because he’s important to you.”

She jerked away from his touch. “Did that stupid cougar give you a lobotomy, too? This is not the Soren I have come to know and loathe.”

He gave a weak smile. “It was a lynx. And I’m not an asshole all the time.”

“Just most of the time.” She pulled out an abdominal bandage and a roll of tape. She gently put the pad across his chest and had him hold it down while she taped it in place. She needed to use two of the large pads because the claw marks were so long. She taped gauze squares on his arms because those were a lot smaller. “So, what’s going on with your leg? Blood is seeping through your jeans, too.” She motioned to the limb where, sure enough, blood was weeping through from the bite.

“I can do that,” he said.

“Take off your pants. I’ll do that for you, too.”

His face held nothing but mischief. “Admit it. You just want to see me naked.”

“Ugh, I’ve already seen you naked. And believe me, it’s nothing to write home about,” she said tartly.

He brushed her insult off. From the redness in her cheeks, he already knew he had her. “Whatever you say.”

“Don’t try to bait me. It’s not going to work.” She stood up and left the room again with the bowl and washcloth. She came back with the bowl refilled with clean hot water with a fresh towel rolled up under her arm. Tegan set down the water and tossed the towel at him. “Pants. Off. Now,” she said in a commanding voice.

“Oh, I’ve been waiting to hear you say that to me. I just didn’t know it would be so soon,” he replied cheekily.

“Lech,” she rumbled under her breath, but he could tell that her mood had changed from worry and sadness to one of mild amusement.

After taking off his pants, he could hear Tegan rustling around in the box she had all the medical supplies in. He quickly secured a towel around his waist and picked up the bloody jeans off the floor. Then he sat down in the chair again.

“You can turn around now,” he told her.

She did and was once more all businesslike as she came over and lifted the towel out of the way to examine his thigh.

“Jeez,” she whispered, looking over the angry red holes in his muscle where the lynx had decided to take a chunk out of him. “Soren, this looks pretty bad. It’s still bleeding pretty heavily. I think you may need stitches on a few of them.”

“Nah. Like I said, I’ll be fine. Wolves heal a lot faster than humans. Just slap a bandage on it and in a few days time, there will be virtually no trace of the injury. There won’t even be a scar once it heals completely,” he told her without much concern. It was true that wolves healed quickly. It was one of the many benefits of being a werewolf.

“You sure? I know you guys aren’t too fond of human interaction and would rather let your leg rot off than go to a hospital. I’m shit with a needle and thread, but I could try,” she offered.

“Uh, no, thanks. I think I’ll take my chances on healing without it. You might sew my legs together or something,” he muttered sarcastically.

She shrugged. “Suit yourself. But if you wake up dead from blood loss or infection then don’t come crying to me.”

“Well, if I’m dead, I won’t be doing much of…Ouch!” he bellowed, his hand coming down to cradle his aching thigh. “Would you watch what you’re doing, please!”

“Quit your barking. Blood is crusted around the punctures. I have to wipe it away if I’m going to clean and wrap it properly. You’re such a baby,” she chastised.

“You try getting attacked by a damn lynx and then tell me you’d be just fine and dandy afterward,” he bellowed.

She sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

His eyebrows shot up in astonishment. “Tonight it just full of surprises, isn’t it? You’re actually agreeing with me?”

“What you did tonight was very heroic. I don’t know what I would have done without you. You possibly saved Storm’s life. So, thank you, Soren,” she said soberly as she applied the thick coconut and herb salve.

“It was nothing,” he said indifferently. “That overgrown fleabag was on my territory. I had to protect what was mine.”

She delicately pressed a couple gauze squares down on a hole and took a roll of gauze and wrapped it up. She started on another one of the bleeding gouges.

“You could have just let it run away. Or let it finish Storm off. But you didn’t. For that, I am grateful,” she said, binding his leg with more white gauze then taping it to hold it in place.

“Are you all done?” he asked, changing the conversation. Her praising was making him very uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to anyone regarding his actions in any high matter of opinion. It made him feel good, and the feeling left him awkward. He didn’t know exactly how to respond to the appreciation.

“Yep, you are all mummified and I secured it enough so that it should hold up over the night. However, if it does bleed through, just come get me and I’ll change the dressings,” she replied, standing up.

“Okay, I will. Are you sure you’re all right, though? If you need anything, I can go and get it for you,” he offered, getting to his feet as well.

“I’m fine, all things considered. I just need to find out what to do about Storm. Maybe one of the books will have a way to cure him,” she murmured, looked back over her shoulder at her familiar’s prone body.

“I’m sure he’ll come around. He is too much a pain in my ass to die,” he said without thinking, something he tended to do a lot.

“He can’t die. I-I need him too much,” she stuttered, fresh saline filling her eyes and rolling down her face. “If he dies, what is to become of me?”

Soren stepped up to her and cupped her face in his hands to brush away more of her tears. “I don’t know if he is going to live, but let’s not think of that until it actually happens.” He pulled Tegan to his body and held her close as she cried out her pain. When she was finally done, she pulled away from him with swollen, red rimmed eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I’ve been such a crybaby over the past few days.”

“That’s to be expected. You just lost your mother. Your familiar was brutally attacked. Your body is going through a lot of changes right now on top of that. I’m fairly certain that come full moon, you are going to change. I can feel the echo of the wolf growing stronger within you.”

“There really is no going back now is there?” she asked, hiccupping. He could tell the thought of changing still frightened her, but not as much as before.

“Nope. Not unless you want a pack of wolves hunting you down and dragging you back kicking and screaming. No matter what, Tegan, you belong to the pack now and they are not going to let you go without a fight. They’ve bonded with you. They love you,” he explained to her.

She pulled away slightly to peer up at him with still wet eyes. “How can they love me when they don’t even know me?”

“Because of what you did for Vivian. You saved her life and they witnessed it. You are their savior, their symbol of hope. Just don’t let them down, please. I don’t think that they could take anymore heartache,” Soren said.

“I’ll try not to. I don’t want to hurt anyone, least of all anyone innocent. I’d like to help and do something good for them.”

He rested his forehead against hers and touched his nose to her nose. “Then you shall do fine in your new role. Just trust the pack and believe in them. Take them in as your family, accept them. You will have a good life. It might not be easy all the time, but you will find happiness among them. Now, witch, go rest. We’ll figure out what to do about Storm in the morning. Just stay near. Being in close proximity to him will do him good and it might even help restore him because he is a part of you.”

She nodded and he broke apart from her and slipped out the bedroom door. Before he closed it, he poked his head in. “Sleep well,” he whispered.

“Night,” she murmured.