Chapter 213 213
Aurélie’s POV
I step into the ensuite attached to the hospital room and stop in front of the mirror.
I look… awful.
Like I’ve clawed my way back from the dead.
My skin is pale, washed out with a faint grey undertone. My white-blonde hair hangs limp and unwashed, greasy strands clinging to my forehead. A dull sheen coats my skin old sweat layered beneath new, my body never truly cooling long enough to feel clean.
My eyes struggle to focus. When they finally do, I barely recognize myself. The green is still there, but it’s dimmer, sunken lacking the brightness and vibrancy that once came so easily.
That’s when I see it.
Something on my neck.
A mark.
My breath catches sharply.
Damien… marked me?
My eyes refuse to believe it. My hands rise on their own, trembling as my fingers brush the spot. The skin is still faintly red, but the symbol is unmistakable.
A crown.
A wolf, head thrown back in a howl.
The red moon.
Damien marked me.
A gasp slips free as a warm buzzing spreads through my chest. The bond hums there distinct from the pack bond, separate yet perfectly harmonious. I’d felt it the moment I woke, had mistaken it for medication because of how blissful it felt.
My wolf surges forward in my mind, stirring from whatever forced rest she’d been trapped in.
“Shot… gun…” she manages weakly.
Her strength lags behind mine always does. The skin heals first.
Shot.
I was shot.
In the chest.
Memory returns in fractured pieces flashes rather than a full picture. Delphine. Dominique. Fear. Pain.
My heart stutters.
I rush out of the bathroom, panic flooding my veins, only to find Fabrice standing beside the bed, carefully gathering the tubes I’d torn free earlier.
“Sorry!” I blurt, suddenly noticing the flat line on the pulse monitor. I must have scared him half to death.
“Yes, you nearly did,” he replies dryly, though relief softens his tone. How do you feel? His voice reaches me through the mind-link thankfully quiet. He knows better than to wake Damien. One look at him tells me he hasn’t slept much at all.
“Honestly? Like death.” I swallow. “The children?”
“They’re fine,” he assures me immediately. “I’ll bring them in shortly they’ll be thrilled to see you awake. You had all of us worried.”
He pulls me into his arms, holding me tightly. The embrace says more than words ever could. I really must have terrified him.
“What happened?” I ask softly.
“You were shot with a silver bullet laced with wolfsbane.”
“Wolfsbane?” I gasp, stepping back instinctively.
“You were hallucinating,” he continues carefully. “Crying out… apologizing to someone.” His gaze sharpens, searching my face. “Do you remember?”
Yes.
The dream comes rushing back the endless desert, the ash. Nausea twists in my stomach.
“My parents,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut. “I saw my parents.”
“Aurélie,” Fabrice says gently, “it was a dream. The wolfsbane, combined with the medication we gave you to stop the infection from reaching your heart.”
My hand drifts to my chest, fingers brushing the scar left behind. Then it moves to my neck again. A soft ripple hums beneath my skin alive, warm.
I glance toward the bed.
Damien is smiling in his sleep.
Was he dreaming of me?
“He marked you,” Fabrice says quietly. “He saved your life, Aurélie.”
After he fills me in how Gaston and Geneviève escaped, how their rogue accomplice was captured, how every pack is on high alert and working together to find them I return to the bed.
My wolf needs him. Needs the reassurance of his presence, the steady strength of his wolf alongside hers.
I nudge him gently, making space. He shifts instinctively, his wolf having followed my scent to my pillow. The sight nearly makes me smile.
I slide closer and guide his arm around my waist, leaning into him. His scent wraps around me, grounding, comforting. Even asleep, he’s alert my movement makes him jerk awake.
It takes a second.
Then his eyes lock onto mine.
I’m awake.
And looking at him.
“Damien…” I lift my hand to his cheek.
He leans into my touch before capturing my lips in a soft kiss.
“You’re awake,” he breathes, awe and relief flooding his voice. “Thank the Goddess…”
He cups my face with both hands, searching my eyes as something raw and unreadable flickers across his expression. Then he pulls me closer and kisses me again fiercer this time.
Like a man who has been parched for years finally finding water.
Like hunger after famine.
Like he nearly lost me and refuses to let go.