Chapter 62 62
LOGAN’S POV
The trip back to my room was a blur of pain and fury. My arm throbbed where that bastard’s grip had bitten in, and a shallow gash on my neck from a claw-tipped throw against a tree trunk stung with every turn of my head. My wolf’s healing was already sluggishly trying to knit the flesh, a pathetic inheritance from my Omega mother that I’d always resented.
I’d spent fucking hours hunched over my bathroom sink, trying to stitch the deeper cut on my arm myself. Then I had moved back to my bed unable to stand the back aches. The needle and thread from my shoddy emergency kit felt clumsy and brutal in my hands. Each pull of the thread sent a fresh wave of white-hot agony up my limb.
Fuck that intruder. The thought was a venomous mantra in my head. Fuck him to hell.
I was sweating, my hand trembling as I tried to tie off the last, messy knot, when I heard footsteps approaching my door. Too fast.
“Shit.” I cursed, shoving the bloody needle, the spool of thread, and the half-empty bottle of antiseptic under my pillow just as the door was pushed open without a knock.
“Ugh, Mother! Knock!” I yelled, the sound raw.
She closed the door behind her, her eyes wide and flitting around my disheveled room. They landed on my arm, still oozing a thin trickle of blood, and the dark red droplets I hadn’t managed to clean off the white bathroom tiles.
She gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. “Logan! You’re hurt! Badly!”
“Yes, Captain Obvious,” I spat, not looking at her, focusing on applying pressure to the wound with a wad of gauze. “And thanks to whatever weak-ass genetic system you passed on to me, my wolf healing isn’t exactly top-tier.” I ignored the flinch I knew my words would cause.
“Are you shading me right now? For this?” Her voice rose, a mix of hurt and panic. “Goodness, you need to go to the clinic now. The pack doctor can treat this properly, sterilize it—”
“Yes, yes,” I cut her off, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “And then they can all run and tell Father that his illegitimate son walked in looking like he lost a fight with a wood chipper. No thanks. I’ll pass on the humiliation.”
“Seriously? Are you really more bothered about your father’s reaction than your own health right now?” She stepped closer, her face pale. “You look terrible. Like you fought with a beast. Logan, what happened?”
“Let me be, Mother!” I growled, unable to stop the low rumble that vibrated in my chest. My eyes, I could feel them shifting, the amber bleed threatening to show. “Go. Now. And stop being such a whining bitch about it.”
She looked at me then, a true, deep hurt flashing in her brown eyes before she shuttered it away. But I couldn’t care. Not right now. The pain and the humiliation were a fire in my veins, and she was just fuel.
She left without another word, closing the door softly. The quiet felt heavier after her exit. A minute later, the door opened again.
Stefan walked in, his expression shifting from casual to alarmed in a heartbeat. My mother’s little errand boy. Of course she’d sent him.
“Geez, Logan, what happened to you?” he asked, already striding across the room.
He was one of the younger Gammas, but more importantly, he was the only person in this whole damn pack I halfway trusted.
He noticed the angry, ragged gash on the side of my neck and let out a low grunt. “That’s deep.”
“It’s none of your business,” I muttered, turning away.
“Yes, it is,” he said firmly, not taking the bait. He came around and gently but firmly took the gauze and the bottle of antiseptic from my trembling hands. “I’m your friend. And your confidant. So spill. And hold still, this looks infected already.”
He worked with practiced efficiency, cleaning the wound on my arm properly before picking up the needle to finish the job I’d botched.
“You don’t have to police and babysit me just because my mother asked you to,” I grumbled, though the relief of someone competent taking over was immense.
“Really, Logan?” He didn’t look up from his careful stitching. “I’m your friend. I’ve always had your best interest at heart, even when it’s stupid. So don’t give me the attitude right now. Let’s just get this done with.” He paused, tying off a stitch. “You’re lucky, by the way. The Alpha is away on border patrol. Won’t be back until late tonight.”
“My father is yet to return?” I asked, a sliver of relief piercing through the pain.
“Yes,” he nodded, moving to the gash on my neck with a fresh pad of antiseptic. I rolled my eyes but stayed still. Apart from being a competent Gamma, Stefan was my only real ally in this snake pit.
He finished the last stitch on my arm and started cleaning the claw marks on my neck. The sting was sharp, clearing my head. As the immediate agony receded, the memory of the fight came rushing back, fresh and humiliating. That intruder. The way he’d moved. So fast. So strong. He’d tossed me around like I was a pup playing at being tough. I hadn’t even landed a solid hit. The sheer, effortless power in his movements… It was infuriating.
I grabbed a pillow from the bed and hurled it across the room, a wordless roar of frustration tearing from my throat.
“You went to see Arielle,” Stefan stated, not a question. He dabbed at my neck. “Don’t tell me one of her protectors did this to you. Fang Storm doesn’t assign shadows to their wolfless princess.”
“Protectors?” I scoffed, the sound painful. “No one from Fang Storm Pack could touch me. And you’re right, the wolfless Alpha’s daughter doesn’t have Gammas tailing her. Which is exactly why I decided to… have a chat with her. Alone.”
“So?” he probed, his voice calm as he applied a steri-strip to the clean gash. “What went wrong?”
I closed my eyes, the scene replaying. The look on her face—not just fear, but that infuriating defiance. Then the shadow stepping out of the trees.
“It was an intruder,” I said, the words gritty. “He intervened at the worst possible moment. I couldn’t see his face. He had a hood up. But he was… strong.” I clenched my fist, feeling the pull of the fresh stitches. A fresh wave of anger surged. “He tossed me around like my father does when he’s making a point.”
The memory flashed again—the impact against the tree, the dizzying disorientation, the instinctive, cowardly scramble to get away. I punched the mattress beside me, the impact jarring my injured arm and making me hiss. The humiliation burned hotter than the wounds.
Stefan was quiet for a moment, finishing up his work. “An unknown stranger that powerful… could be one of the Alpha’s enemies. Someone with a grudge against Nightshade.”