Chapter Twelve

They waited in the hospital for what felt like forever. After the doctors took Petra, someone came to speak to Emmett and Francesca, who were sitting in the waiting area, what felt like every few years. The wolfsbane had affected both her heart and her lungs. They had three doctors working magic on her in an attempt to repair the damage and get the wolfsbane out of her body, but it was a slow process. When the pain that was being transmitted to Emmett finally faded, it was as though he could breathe after being trapped underwater.

A long time later, someone came out to them again. The doctor was a tall, thin witch with a long ponytail.

"I'm Dr. Amberwood," she said. "You're here for Petra Dalman?"

"Yes, both of us," Emmett said.

"She's going to be okay," she told them. "She's going to be in here for a while—she was given an enormous dose of wolfsbane, and it took a lot of magic to heal the damage, so she'll need support while she's recovering—but it looks like she's going to be all right."

Francesca burst into tears. Emmett wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and she hugged him tightly.

"Can we see her?" he asked.

"She's sleeping right now," the doctor explained. "But we can let you in briefly to lay eyes on her if you promise not to wake her."

Both of them agreed, Francesca wiping away her tears, and the doctor brought them through.

Petra was in a ward of individual beds separated by curtains, connected to several machines that were beeping rhythmically. Emmett's heart swelled when he saw her, so large, it felt like it was blocking his throat. He wanted to drop to his knees beside her, wanted to praise every god that existed that she was safe, wanted to swear himself to her like a knight to an ancient queen. She was all right. The relief had him weak at the knees. Francesca was crying silently beside him, and he felt like he was about a minute away from joining her when Dr. Amberwood laid a hand on both their shoulders. When they turned to look at her, she gestured for them to leave and closed the curtains around Petra's bed once more.

"Can she have visitors tomorrow?" Francesca asked once they were out of the ward.

"She's going to be very tired," the doctor said. "She might not be awake much."

"But we can come and see her," Francesca insisted.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," Dr. Amberwood said. "Just be prepared for the fact that she might be asleep when you're here."

Emmett arrived five minutes after visiting hours began. Petra was indeed asleep when he was brought through to see her, and he took the seat by her bed, content to just watch her slow, steady breathing, to trace his eyes over her beautiful face, no longer contorted in pain. Francesca came during her break from work, and they spoke quietly as Petra slept. Emmett's boss, a werewolf himself who understood the bond, had told him to take as long as he needed to care for his mate; they'd send him anything vital by email or call if it was immediately essential, and he'd manage it from home.

When he left that evening, Petra still hadn't woken. He pressed a light kiss to her forehead, and she stirred in her sleep, mumbling words he couldn't translate. The bond between them throbbed beneath his skin.

The story was the same for the next few days. Some days, Emmett brought his laptop and worked from the chair beside Petra's bed. Others, he was content to just sit and watch her sleep, knowing that she was safe, that she was recovering.

On the fifth day, one of the nurses recognized him. "Are you Emmett?" she asked.

He nodded.

"She says your name in her sleep sometimes. When she woke up last night, she asked if you'd been in."

"She was awake?" he asked.

"Only for about fifteen minutes. It's not unusual to be this tired after having so much magic worked on your body, not to mention the effects of the poison."

* * *

On the sixth day, Petra woke up again.

When she'd first awoken in the hospital, she'd been confused and scared, wondering if this was the afterlife, if she was bound to spend eternity attached to beeping machines on a hard mattress. She must have made a noise, because a nurse came in and explained what had happened, and that she'd likely sleep for most of the next few days as her body recovered. By the end of the brief explanation, Petra's eyes had already begun falling closed again. The nurses were kind, getting her food when she stayed awake long enough to eat, making sure she knew what the situation with her recovery was. At the end of the week, they explained that she was going to be moved to a room of her own, as she would no longer need constant supervision. She would need to stay in the hospital for at least a week beyond that, but she was doing well. They told her that several visitors had been in to see her, but she never managed to time her brief periods of wakefulness to visiting hours.

Until she did.

The first thing she noticed was the light. The other times she'd woken, only the fluorescents beyond the curtains surrounding her bed had lit the space. This time, sunlight was coming through the small window.

The second thing was him. He was sitting with a computer open on his lap, just out of the shaft of sunlight, the reflected glow gilding the side of his face. Her heart rate picked up—she could hear the beeping of the machine increase—and he glanced up to see her open eyes.

"Emmett," she managed, her throat dry. She fought to sit up, but she was weak, so weak.

He all but threw the computer to the side and then he was standing over her, stroking her hair back from her face.

"Don't push yourself," he murmured, his hand cupping her cheek. "You've been through so much. Don't stress yourself."

"Water," she rasped, and he found the remote that would shift the bed into a sitting position, then held the cup from the table beside her to her lips. Her own hands covered his. Just lifting her arms required great effort, but when her skin touched his, energy rolled through her like shifting fog, making it easier. He replaced the cup on the table, but stayed standing over her, his hand cupping her face.

"You're here," she said.

"Of course, I'm here," he replied. "I couldn't be anywhere else. The fact that they have restricted visiting hours has been killing me. All I wanted was to be with you." He sat on the side of the bed and took her hands in his. "That's all I want, Petra. To be with you." He shook his head, looking down at their joined hands. "We can't have this conversation now. Just know, I'm not going anywhere. As long as you'll let me, I'm not going anywhere."

"The vampires—" Petra said.

"Captured, almost the whole coven. We did some serious damage. The cops weren't pleased we didn't wait for them to locate you, but once we gave them the Master of the coven that had been hunting humans and tried to kill you, and they realized you wouldn't have made it if we'd wasted time waiting for their locator spell—" He took a deep breath, and she could see that he was fighting some strong emotion.

"How did you find me?" she asked.

"Apparently, if your mate is feeling something strongly enough, traces of it can pass through the bond. I could feel how much pain you were in, and I could follow the pull of it toward you. They had you in a cavern under a building in the industrial park. Turns out there's a whole network of tunnels coming off that chamber, where those vampires were hiding. The cops are still investigating them. Trying to find anyone who's still hiding down there." He swallowed. "I'm just sorry it took so long. I'm sorry they were able to hurt you that much. I should have been faster. I should have come for you sooner."

"You saved me," Petra said, her voice soft. "You saved my life, Emmett."

"Of course, I did," he replied, as if this was a foregone conclusion. "You're my mate."

"Emmett," Petra started, but one of the machines started beeping and a nurse stuck her head through the gap in the curtains.

"Oh good, you're awake." She smiled at Petra. "And while your mate is here as well. That's good timing. Just don't wear her out, please. She still needs a lot of sleep to recover." She looked at Petra. "Do you want something to eat? I'll get you more water, too." She pressed a button on the machine to stop the incessant beeping.

"Sure," Petra said, and then she was gone, and it was just the two of them again. Petra had to stifle an enormous yawn.

"Do you want to go back to sleep?" Emmett asked. "I can go if you want."

"Stay," Petra said, holding his hand tightly. "Please. Stay."

"As long as you want me here, I'm here," Emmett assured her.

Always, Petra thought, but she couldn't just announce that in a hospital ward, could she? She wasn't ready to have that conversation when she was still too weak to sit up unassisted. So, she settled for smiling up at him, and after a moment the nurse came back with food and more water, which Petra drank like she'd just spent a month in the desert.

She'd talk to him about keeping the bond, about realizing that, actually, she didn't care what she had to endure so long as she got to have him, once she was stronger, once they were somewhere more private. When they had some time to themselves, that's when she would raise the topic.

For now, she would just cherish having this time with him.

Eventually, warm and well-fed, the energy that had sustained her from Emmett's touch began to fade. He moved the chair, so it was beside the bed, and held her hand as she once more fell asleep.

Petra spent a total of two and a half weeks in hospital, and though most of it was in a private room, she was still thrilled when she was told she was being discharged. She had regained enough strength that she was able to walk around the ward, though it tired her out, and she was encouraged to have someone stay with her for at least the first week after she left the hospital. Emmett, who was sitting in his usual chair when the doctor gave her this information, immediately volunteered.

They'd had conversations about anything and everything as her periods of consciousness had grown longer each day. She'd asked him more about his past, about his life, his job, the Beta duties that he and Raj were still comfortably splitting. They'd discussed her life a lot as well, though she'd avoided talk of past relationships; she would bring up Regan and what that meant for her, for them, once they were properly alone. It was difficult not to burst out with her changed opinion about their future, but they discussed the bond very little; perhaps because he didn't want to hear her say that she still wanted to break it, or perhaps because there was so much more to talk about as the city's law enforcement tracked down the rogue vampire covens who had been living in tunnels and caves that stretched beneath Mystic City and beyond. Petra's kidnapping had mostly been kept out of the news, other than brief references to "an attempt on the life of a government employee involved in an integration program", and she was comfortable with that. She had no wish to get involved in what was turning into a media circus as people asked how so many vampires had been able to live outside the law, within their city, without the knowledge of its leaders. She had never been gladder that she was only peripherally involved in politics.

The day Petra was discharged, Emmett was, as usual, there the moment visiting hours started. They packed up the belongings Francesca had brought her, went through what felt like more paperwork than Petra would do in a full day at work, and Emmett led her down to his car. She didn't realize that they weren't driving toward her house until he pulled up in front of an unfamiliar building with a carefully manicured garden shielded from the view of the street by a high hedge.

"Emmett—" she started.

"It's my place," he said, pre-empting her question. "I can take better care of you here. I know where everything is, so I won't constantly be bothering you with questions. The garden is bigger, so you can sit outside and get some sun or walk around if you want."

"But what about… I'll need clothes and things," she protested.

"I asked Francesca to drop some more things off. She brought a hell of a lot of books, too, and your computer. How much do you normally read in a week?"

"It's just for a week?" Petra asked tentatively.

"As long as you keep getting stronger, the doctors said you'd only need someone looking after you for a week." His tone was positive but otherwise unemotional, but when she looked into his eyes, she could see he was holding something back.

"Okay," she said after a brief pause. "Just for a week."

The smile he gave her was as bright as the sunlight.

The front door led into a hallway where Emmett dropped Petra's bag, and to her surprise he led her into a brightly lit kitchen. "It's after lunch time," he explained, seeing her curious look as she took in the space. "Let's get some food in you."

She took a seat at the large table and watched as he smoothly moved around the space. "I made pizzas last night," he explained. "The dough made enough for about six people, but I just cooked them all anyway. Do you mind having leftovers?"

"Not at all. You made pizza dough from scratch?"

"It's easy once you know how. I can teach you if you like."

She smiled at him, where he was looking over his shoulder. "I'd like that."

Emmett put together enough food for a medium-sized family, then joined Petra at the table, and as they were eating, she caught him looking at her more than once.

"What?" she asked eventually. "Do I have sauce on my face or something?"

"No," he said slowly. "It's just, I like this. Having you here. Giving you food while you're in my space."

She felt a matching smile spread across her own face, and she reached out and took his hand. It's time, she thought. Now, finally, it was time.

"Emmett," she said. "I have something to say, and I need you to promise that you'll let me get the whole thing out before you respond."

Emmett put down his slice of pizza. "All right," he said slowly.

"I know for all this time, I've been saying I wanted to find a way to break this bond between us, and I know you think you know why. You think it's because of who you are and what you've done, but that's not it at all. It's about me, and who I am. The thing is I know you know how our wolves make us so possessive, and I was looking at you and knowing that someday, you're going to need more than someone like me can give you. Someone like me—I'm not what you're used to. I'm not wild and exciting and full of, like, life-of-the-party energy. I'm just… I'm boring. I live this very organized life, very predictable, reliable. And I know that someday, you're going to want more than that. And for so long, I thought there was no way I'd be able to live with it if you needed more women than just me to fulfill you, to be happy. I-I've been in a relationship with someone who cheated on me before because I was too… because I was just me, and he wanted the kind of excitement that I couldn't give him. And it hurt, it hurt so much to know that I wasn't enough to fulfill someone I loved.

But when I was in that cave, when I thought I was going to die, I realized that it doesn't matter to me. If you need to have other women in your life to give you that, I don't care anymore. As long as you come home to me after, I don't care if you need more than just me, as long as I still get to be your mate, as long as I still get to be yours. That's all I care about." She took a deep breath in and realized she had tears running down her face.

"Petra," Emmett said, his tone unreadable. "Is that really what this has all been about? That you thought I'd be the same as some asshole who told you he cheated on you because you weren't exciting enough?"

"When you put it that way," Petra mumbled, looking down at the table.

"It is that way," Emmett snapped. "I have been falling in love with you this whole time, trying to work out what the hell I was going to do when you took yourself away from me because I'm not the kind of man you want to be mated to, and all this time it was because you thought I would violate our bond, just because I used to get around?"

"I'm not like those girls, the women you were with before." The words came out almost as a sob. "Not that there's anything wrong with them, or with wanting them. I'm just… I organize things, and I manage things, and I always have a schedule, and—"

"Of course, you're different," Emmett interrupted. "You're mine. That is what makes you different. You think I care that you like things organized? My job is organizing things, Petra. I don't live some kind of continuous party life that I'd be giving up to be with you. I know you, I see who you are, and I still want to be with you. I want you more than anything in the world, you little fool. I would give up anything to be with you, but somehow the universe gave me a woman so incredible that being with you means giving up nothing for me." He shoved back his chair and came around the table, tilting up her head with a finger under her chin when he stood next to her. "Petra, I'm not the fucker who hurt you. I would never do that to you because I would never need to. You are everything I want. Why would I look for anything anywhere else?"

"You think that now," she said. "But someday—"

"I will think that forever," he swore, his voice deep and harsh. "There is no one in the world who can compare to you, for me. I'm not going to get bored with you, I'm not going to start wishing I was dating someone who does have—what did you call it? 'Life-of-the-party energy'? Living with someone like that would drive me insane. I want you, I love you, and I'm going to love you, just like this, forever, because I can't not. I tried not to fall for you, knowing you wanted out of our bond, and if it didn't work then, why the hell would it happen in the future?"

She found herself staring at him, struck dumb by the power of his words. "Do you mean that?" she asked eventually, almost too scared to acknowledge her burgeoning hope.

"Always," Emmett said.

She launched herself up from her chair and wrapped her arms around him, holding him as tightly as she could, feeling the heat and bulk of his body against hers. His arms wrapped around her, pressing her even closer. Their lips met, and the kiss was full of everything that had just passed between them, spoken and unspoken. Petra's fingers wrapped into his hair, clutching him to her, then slid down his neck, over his shoulders, exploring the strength of his body as he held her as close as if he was trying to merge them into one being.

"I love you too," she managed to say against the delicious pressure of his mouth. "I love you. I love you."

With a single swipe of his arm, Emmett shoved everything that had been on the table on to the floor. Dishes cracked, food spilled, but neither of them cared, struggling as they were to touch every inch of each other without breaking the connection of their lips. She shoved her fingers under the hem of his shirt and dug her nails into the muscles of his back. He pulled away for just long enough to rid himself of his shirt, then lifted her and laid her down on the table, climbing up over her so his lips could find that desperately sensitive spot on her neck that had her crying out as his hands explored the curves of her body. She scratched lines into his back as he reached under her shirt to cup her breasts, toying with her taut nipples through the lace of her bra.

"Mark me," he growled against her skin. "I want the whole world to know that I'm yours."

His growl reverberated through her as she dug her nails deep into the muscle of his back.

"Bite me," Petra begged. "I want to feel it."

He did, not on her neck where she'd expected, but to the side where it could be hidden by a shirt. At least one of them was still thinking sensibly, she thought distantly, because having Emmett's body pressing hers down against the table had driven all semblance of logic from her mind. When she felt his teeth press into her flesh, her legs slid apart as though he'd pressed a button, and she could feel the hard length of him grinding against her core as he bit, harder, his tongue flickering over her skin until she knew he'd leave a mark. Her wolf reveled in the obvious evidence of their claiming, and she wrapped her legs around him, pressing her body against the bulk of his as much as she could while trapped beneath his weight. A bolt of pleasure shot from the place his mouth was on her skin right to her core, and she wondered if it was possible to come just from his bite and the length of him pressed against her.

He released his bite, and his mouth came to her ear. "Are you wet already, pretty girl?"

"Yes," Petra said, hearing the begging note in her voice. "Please, these jeans—"

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you," Emmett said, a sound like a vow in his tone. He moved down her body until he stood at the end of the table and undid her jeans. Rather than stripping them off her immediately, though, he reached in through the undone fly, into her underwear, and cupped her pussy in his hand, his fingers surely feeling how wet and swollen she was already. "Gods, Petra, you're so fucking hot," he growled and pulled his hand out just to lick his fingers. "I love the taste of you," he said, "but if I don't get inside you soon, I'm going to lose my mind."

"I need you inside me," Petra said, working her jeans and her panties down her legs. Emmett took over the task, and as he did, she dragged her shirt off over her head, then unsnapped her bra.

When she met his eyes again, he was staring down at her with something like worship in his gaze. "You have no idea how many times I've imagined this," he said. "On every surface in this house, I've imagined taking you. Every depraved thing you can think of, I've pictured doing it to you here."

"Well, we have a whole week," Petra said with a smile.

"We have the rest of our lives," Emmett corrected her, shoving his own jeans down to free his swollen erection. Unthinking, Petra licked her lips, remembering how it had felt to have him in her mouth.

"Next time," he promised. "I need this pussy too much right now." He tugged her forward, so her ass was at the edge of the table, then leaned down to give her core a single long lick, focusing on the swollen bud at its apex. He growled once more, then stood and aligned the head of his cock with her entrance.

"Petra," he said, "I love you." And then he pushed inside her.

She was so wet that she took almost all of him in that first stroke, and from the noise Emmett made, you'd think he'd been granted entry to paradise. She made a sound that was similar, and another even louder with the second stroke that had him buried all the way to his base. His hands circled her hips, holding her still for his assault as he began to drive into her, deep and hard, and it was like he had a map of every sensitive spot inside her. He took her, thrusting deep inside her with such passion, she could feel it through her whole body, his growls and groans mingling with her gasping, moaning cries. The rest of the world disappeared as her focus settled entirely on him, the way he moved and arched over her, driving into her endlessly, holding her body in place for his assault the way he knew she loved, the way she'd imagined before they'd even been together like this.

"You're going to make me come," she managed as he thrust into her, over and over.

"Good girl," Emmett growled and set his thumb to her swollen clit without changing his fierce, driving rhythm. "Come for me, Petra. Show me what I do to you. Let me see how much you love how I fuck this perfect body."

The pleasure that was coiling inside her began to coalesce as he drove into her, building like pressure in a shaken champagne bottle, and she knew this was going to be beyond intense. The rough circles his thumb made around her clit, the pressure of his unyielding thrusts, all of it was so much, too much, and some distant part of Petra worried that she would be unable to contain the pleasure when this orgasm, so close she could almost taste it, finally hit.

And then it did. The pressure burst in her like fireworks exploding, over and over, and Emmett swore brutally and leaned forward to bury his face in the curve of her neck as her back arched, her pussy clenched again and again, and she could feel him pulsing inside her, his drives losing their rhythm as he found his own peak in the midst of hers.

She came back to herself eventually, when Emmett shifted off her.

"We made a mess of your kitchen," she said, still breathless.

"I'll deal with it later," Emmett said. "For now, how about we get you into the shower?"

"Is your shower big enough for two?" she asked, echoing his words from what felt like a lifetime ago.

The beauty of Emmett's smile made her heart swell. "Absolutely," he said, before picking her up and carrying her from the room.