Chapter 34
Tori's POV:
Pain was the first thing I registered.
A dull throbbing in my head and a sharper, more insistent ache in my right leg.
The antiseptic smell hit me next.
I blinked slowly, my vision adjusting to the dim light.
White ceiling. Beeping machines. The soft hum of medical equipment.
Confusion washed over me as I tried to piece together how I'd ended up here.
Then it hit me—the car, the screeching tires, Morgan's terrified face. I remembered pushing her out of the way, the sickening crunch as metal collided with my body, and then... nothing.
I was hit by a car. I'm in the hospital.
Tracy, my wolf, stirred anxiously within me. We're okay, I assured her, though I wasn't entirely convinced myself.
I shifted slightly, trying to assess the damage.
My right leg felt heavy, probably bandaged or in a cast. As I moved my hand, I realized with a start that someone was holding it.
Warm fingers wrapped firmly around mine, keeping me tethered to the world outside my pain.
Turning my head carefully, I froze.
There, slumped in a chair beside my bed, was Alpha Lucas. His head rested at an uncomfortable angle, eyes closed in exhaustion.
Even in sleep, his face maintained that Alpha intensity, though softened by fatigue.
What was he doing here? Why would the Alpha of the Grayson Pack be sleeping in a hospital chair, holding the hand of an Omega he barely knew?
I tried to gently extract my hand from his, not wanting to wake him but feeling suddenly self-conscious.
The slight movement was enough.
His eyes snapped open instantly, alert despite the red veins streaking the whites—clear evidence he hadn't rested properly.
Our eyes locked, and for a moment, neither of us spoke.
The monitoring equipment beeped steadily in the background, marking the seconds of our silence.
I could see exhaustion etched into the lines around his eyes, the usual sharpness of his gaze softened by what looked like relief.
"You're awake," he finally said, his voice low and rough with sleep.
His hand tightened slightly around mine before he seemed to realize he was still holding it and slowly released his grip.
"Why are you here?" I asked. It made no sense. Alpha Lucas had no reason to sit at my bedside, to hold my hand while I was unconscious.
His eyes met mine, that intense gaze softening slightly.
"I'm taking care of you," he stated matter-of-factly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
I blinked, thrown by his directness.
"But why you? "
He reached for a cup of water on the bedside table and offered it to me. His movements were careful, deliberate, as he helped me take a sip.
The cool water was a blessing against my parched throat. "Where is Morgan?" I asked, suddenly anxious. "Is she—"
"She's fine," Lucas assured me. "You pushed her out of the way. She wasn't injured."
Relief flooded through me. At least I'd managed to do that much.
"Where is she now?" I asked, glancing around the empty room.
"I sent her home to rest," Lucas said quietly. His tone held that unmistakable Alpha authority that brooked no argument.
"Too many people would disrupt your recovery."
I blinked in surprise.
If anyone should leave to help me rest, shouldn't it be the intimidating Alpha I barely know, not my closest friend?
"You sent Morgan away," I repeated slowly, "but decided to stay yourself?" The question came out more bluntly than I'd intended, but pain and confusion had stripped away my usual caution.
Lucas's expression remained impassive, though something flickered briefly in his eyes.
"Yes," he replied simply, as if that explained everything
The silence stretched between us.
I thought about all the strange interactions we'd had over the past weeks—the ride home from the ceremony, the tea and sleep aids, the mysterious interest in my well-being. None of it made sense.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked finally, unable to contain the question any longer. "Why are you being so... nice to me?"
One dark eyebrow rose. "'Nice' is a questionable description of my behavior."
"You know what I mean." I tried to sit up straighter, wincing as pain shot through my leg.
"What do you want from me?"
Lucas's expression shifted, something unidentifiable flickering across his features. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his gaze never leaving mine.
"Is it really so difficult to believe someone might be concerned about your welfare, Tori?"
"Yes," I answered honestly. "Especially when that someone is you."
A shadow of something—hurt, maybe?—crossed his face before his expression became carefully neutral again.
"What if I told you I like you?"
For a moment, I thought I'd misheard him.
The words seemed so out of place coming from Lucas Grayson's mouth that my brain struggled to process them.
"What?" I managed, certain I must have misunderstood.
"I like you, Tori Sullivan." His voice was calm, matter-of-fact, as if he were stating that the sky was blue or water was wet.
I stared at him, waiting for the punchline, for some explanation that would make more sense than the impossible words he'd just spoken.
But his expression remained steady, unwavering.
"That's—" I shook my head, unable to form a coherent response. "That's not possible."
Of all the explanations for Lucas's behavior toward me, this was the one I'd never considered, never even imagined. An Alpha—this Alpha—interested in me? In what universe would that make any sense?
Tracy, usually quick with commentary, was suspiciously quiet.
"Why?" I finally asked, the only word I could force past my lips.
Lucas leaned forward slightly, his eyes never leaving mine. "You need reasons to hate someone, Tori. Not to like them."
I felt suddenly dizzy, and it had nothing to do with my injuries.
The most powerful Alpha in Moonhaven had just confessed to liking me—an Omega with a criminal record and absolutely nothing to offer someone of his standing.
It was absurd. It was impossible. It was the most unbelievable thing I'd heard in my twenty-one years of life.