TALIS
Iwake fighting.
Since the last thing I remember is Abel's rapey smile, the fact I'm waking up in a bed not my own, I imagine anyone would do the same.
Within seconds, I'm tangled in the sheets with someone calling my name and trying to stop me from plunging off the side of the bed.
It's several more seconds before it hits me that the voice calling my name, and the hands saving me from face planting, is Dayne, and I sag in relief.
Realizing I've probably put two and two together, Dayne saves me from my dive off the side of the bed and settles me in the center.
And then I open my eyes.
He's perched on the side of my bed, and he's got a look I can't quite figure out.
It's a combination of frustration and relief, or something close to it.
"Figured it'd be you saving me from face planting," I mutter.
There's a choked laugh that has me turning. And to my utter surprise, the pack have wedged themselves in the doorway and are staring in at me with varying degrees of relief.
But not all the pack. I don't see Jenna, or Marshall, or Savannah.
At the front is Luka, and I'm not sure why, but seeing the concern and warmth in his eyes has tears filling my eyes.
I drop my head back on the pillow and clap my hands over my face.
Dayne growls, and then the door slams shut, and my awareness of the pack disappears.
"I'm not crying," I mutter, my hands muffling my voice so it's a wonder Dayne can hear me at all.
"It's okay if you were," Dayne says, not sounding like he particularly cares either way.
"No, it's not."
"And why," he growls, starting to sound like he cares. But not in a good way. "Is it not okay?"
"They'll think I'm weak."
There's a moment of silence that goes on for so long it has me lifting my hands from my face so I can read Dayne's expression.
The thing is, I've never trusted his silences. It's always felt like he's used them to hide his emotions from me.
So, I steal a peek into his face and find him gazing down at me in stunned disbelief. "You think you're weak?"
"No," I say, struggling to sit up. Only Dayne puts a hand on my chest and presses gently, but firmly.
It's terrifying how easily he stops me from getting up, and it hits me just how little strength I have right now. "They think I'm weak."
"Talis." Dayne leans close to my face. "No one thinks you're weak. No one has ever thought that you're weak."
Unprepared for the devastating seriousness of his expression, I'm rendered speechless.
Then I clear my throat. "Not even you?"
Lines bracket his eyes as his blank expression morphs into annoyance. "Not even me."
Okay. So wasn't expecting that.
I decide to play it cool, just so Dayne doesn't see just how much his words mean to me. "Well, as nice as it is for you to say so, I don't-"
The growl that emerges from Dayne's throat shuts me up faster than anything else he could have said. "Will you for one fucking second just listen to me Talis Merrick-"
I clear my throat again.
He glares down at me. "What?" he snaps.
"I'd rather you didn't… uh…"
"Talis," Dayne growls.
His tone kicks my anger into gear, and I force myself to sit up after knocking aside Dayne's hand, despite my muscles twinging. "Don't you dare Talis me like that. I'm not in the mood for you to be an alpha dick today."
His expression stills. "What did you just say to me?" His voice is whisper quiet.
Shit. Did I seriously just say that out loud?
"Uh…"
"Talis?" Dayne's voice is all growl, and I gulp as I stare into his ice-blue eyes, feeling like all of a sudden we're too close.
So close I can't help but notice how good he smells. Like man, wild forest, and the scent that's him and him alone. And how terrible I must smell in comparison.
"Don't call me that," I snap, because if all else fails, anger always works.
"Don't call you what?" He looks confused, and still a little angry at being called an alpha dick. Not that I blame him.
"Merrick," I say quietly, lowering my gaze to his chin. "I haven't felt like a Merrick since my parents died."
He's silent for a beat.
"Oh, right," he says, "I forgot. You're a Blackshaw now."
My head snaps up to meet his eyes in shock. "What!"
Dayne takes full advantage of my distracted state to peel the sheet off my t-shirt covered body and scoop me up in his arms.
"We're mated," he says, striding over to the adjoining bathroom. "I figure that means you should start using my name now. Or-" He sits me on the toilet seat before crossing over to the bath and turning the faucet on. "Maybe it's since you're carrying my child."
I lose the ability to speak and just stare at his back as he fills the bathtub with water. I watch as he grabs a bottle of something hot pink, frowns at it, and then empties the entire contents in the running water.
The bath explodes with bubbles.
"I, uh, I don't think you're supposed to put that much in," I mutter, still trying to think up a response to his earlier words.
Am I a Blackshaw? How do I feel about that?
"Too late." When he turns, his face is expressionless as he studies me for several seconds.
"Time to get in."
Since I was bracing myself for us to have that long-awaited talk about the little bundle of joy growing inside me, I'm not prepared for his words, and they throw me. For a second.
I glare at him. "Are you trying to tell me I smell?" It takes serious effort to sound outraged as I force myself to ignore how badly I must smell.
Between the rats in the basement, sick, blood, and stale sweat, no wonder the first thing he did when I woke up was try to get me in a bath.
"No," he says, stalking over to me. "I'm telling you to get in." He stops, and there's a look in his eyes that warns me what's going to happen if I don't.
Since he wore an identical look on his face when he threatened to toss my wolf in the lake, I have little doubt what's going to happen if I don't get in on my own power.
Oh, boy.
Still, I cling to my anger and my outrage since it's all I have left.
I stiffen my spine and glare at him even harder, though I'm not stupid enough to get up. Between Connor ravaging my leg, and Abel's attack, I know what will happen if I attempt it.
It's the force of Abel's blow that will send me crashing to the ground, though. Even hours later, I don't feel even close to being strong enough to stand yet.
All because karma is a bitch.
Not five minutes after I get Loren with a rock, Abel is clocking me twice as hard with an even bigger one. The universe hates me. It's the only explanation.
"I swear if you try to-" And of course, that's the moment I open my mouth on a yawn so wide it makes my jaw cracks.
Dayne's lips twitch. "I'm sorry, you were saying?"
My eyes go to the bath, and then I realize I'm going to have to take off the t-shirt I'm wearing, and Dayne's going to see all the bruises, all the cuts, everything that was done to me. I chew my lower lip and hunch my shoulders.
The bathroom is brightly lit, and there's nowhere I can hide. My fear rises.
Dayne squats in front of me, and I jerk my face to him.
For a long moment, he does nothing but gazes at me. Then he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "What is it, baby?"
"Will you wait for me outside?" I ask his chin.
"No."
My gaze lifts to his face, and I frown in confusion. "I don't…"
"I've already seen," Dayne says in a low voice, and then I remember him crouched over me in the forest after I'd changed. Just before I passed out.
Yes. He would have seen everything.
"And if I hadn't," Dayne says, reaching a hand into a cupboard and emerging with a handheld mirror. "You can't hide your face."
He hands me the mirror and I lift it.
I thought I'd done a decent job of protecting my face from the worst of Uncle Glynn's attacks, but seeing my reflection makes me realize I failed. Miserably.
I'm almost completely black and blue and one side of my jaw is swollen.
Dried blood has matted the side of my hair, which I'm guessing is from Abel's attack.
Although my eyes haven't swollen shut, there's little doubt in my mind it's more the result of my shifter healing than luck. My eyes are ringed with black and blue bruises.
I look like a meerkat. Only less… cute.
And seeing it brings the dull ache and pain all over my body to the forefront of my mind.
I hurt. Everywhere.
Without a word, Dayne takes the mirror from me and meets my eyes. "So, are you getting in?"
After a brief pause, I nod and reach for the hem of my shirt.
To my utter relief, even though I do it slowly since I'm still in no rush to show Dayne the extent of my bruised and battered body, Dayne doesn't rush me.
He just waits until I've eased the material over my head before he takes it and drops it on the floor.
Then he scoops me into his arms and, after testing the water with his elbow, which makes me melt a little at his thoughtfulness, eases me in.
It feels incredible.
I can't help but sigh in pleasure as I sink beneath the surface and rest my head on the side with my eyes closed.
"Best idea ever," I breathe.
"I didn't think alpha dicks had those," Dayne grumbles from the other side of the bathroom.
My lips twitch and I open my eye a slit to find he's settled on the toilet seat with his legs stretched out in front of him and his arms folded across his chest.
"They can," I murmur. "Once or twice a year. Usually at Christmas, and at-"
"You're really pushing your luck, you know that, right?" he says with a narrow-eyed glare.
I force my laughter back and close my eyes again as I focus on enjoying my soak in the bath.
"How's your finger?"
Although his voice is calm, I hear the anger simmering beneath.
I shrug. "It stopped bleeding a while ago, and it could have been worse."
Something about his silence tells me he doesn't believe me.
I know I should ask about where we are, and why the pack are here, and what's going to happen with Uncle Glynn, and any number of things, but right now I don't let it touch me.
The only thing that matters is that I'm away from that circus of horrors.
Because of Dayne.
Even though I know I don't owe him answers, it doesn't feel right to continue to hold everything deep inside me.
Burying all my pain and all anger so deep has caused me nothing but more pain. And not just me. Although my wolf is quiet for the moment, that part of me is not happy, not balanced. I have to start fixing myself.
And I have to start letting Dayne in.
Wherever we are is quiet. The house is still, and I can hear a TV downstairs, although I can't hear any of the pack. I imagine they're sitting around, watching TV, finding comfort in being near each other.
I open my eyes and fix them on the family of yellow rubber ducks someone has left in one corner of the bath.
"It started when I was eight," I say, keeping my voice low as I stare at the littlest duck. The baby duck. The one tucked in beside the mama and papa duck. "After my parents went out hunting and didn't come back. It was my birthday…"