Chapter 22 What did I do?
Auren's pov
My stomach twists at his comment.
He still stands at the window, his broad back tense and his shoulders tight. He has not looked at me once since he threw the blanket at me. I feel the heat of his anger in the room, thick enough to taste. I try to swallow, try to breathe around it as I search my memory wondering if I said something while I was out of my mind.
It all blurs into darkness and fire and pain.
He suddenly pushes away from the window and moves to the bathroom. The sound of water running echoes through the room as he fills the tub. I see him pour something into it, the scent of flowers rising and filing the room.
There is no softness in his movements and everything about him seems extra controlled.
“You need a bath,” he says.
His voice is flat, not cold, just weighed down.
I sniff my armpit and nearly choke. He is right. I smell awful.
Before I can gather the blanket tighter around myself and stand, he is already walking toward me. He drags it away without asking, all the while his eyes hold mine. He does not look down, not once did his eyes run down my body.
Almost as though he is trying to prove a point.
He picks me up. I feel small against him, barely alive after the last few days. His arms stay steady and warm but his expression remains unreadable.
I want to say something to break the tension but my throat refuses to work. He lowers me into the warm bath, then turns and walks out.
He doesn’t look back…….at all.
I hear movement in the room and hear sheets being yanked, fabric ripping and a mattress being stripped with force. He is changing the sheets as if that is a normal job for an Alpha.
That had always been my job in my pack house. I always did it quietly, humming or thinking of some place far away. Now Alpha Dravik does it in silence, as if pulling the bed apart might pull the anger out of him.
“Are you cold?” he asks through the wall.
I nod even though he cannot see.
A moment later I see him through the open door as he heads to the wardrobe and I hear hangers scrape. He returns with pink loungewear, soft and new, and lays it neatly on the bed.
“I will send Hope up to check your wounds,” he mutters.
He leaves the room, slamming the door shut.
I flinch hard, my hand clutching the edge of the tub. I stare at the closed door, trying to understand what I did to make him angry.
Did I say something when the fever took over?
Did I scream something he took the wrong way?
I can’t remember anything except the fire under my skin and the sound of my own voice breaking.
I wash fast, afraid he will come back before I finish. When I step out, my head feels light and my legs weak. I dry myself and slip into the pink clothes. They smell clean, warm and soft. The kind of clothes girls wore in the pack houses when they lounged with their friends. I never had clothes like this, I never asked for any.
The room feels bigger without him. Too quiet. I don’t know where to sit. The bed? The chair? I wish he stayed. Even angry, his presence filled the room and kept me from drifting.
A knock sounds and the door opens a crack and I see Jace sticks his head in with a grin stretched across his face.
“Well look at that. She rises.” He takes one step in. “Hey darling. You almost gave us a heart attack.”
I blink. “Sorry.”
“No need to be sorry. Goddess knows it wasn’t your fault.” He makes a dramatic gesture at the air. “I’m just glad you’re in one piece. I wouldn’t want to lose you so soon, you’re already turning out to be my favorite sister in law.”
Favorite?
“What do you mean?”
“You know?” He gestures around the room grinning. “There hasn't been a dull moment since you came into our lives.”
I turned red and looked down, if that is his idea of a compliment…..
I look up just as a shadow moves behind him across the hall. He reaches out and drags someone into the room. Garrick stumbles in with a scowl.
“Why,” Garrick asks, “are you touching me?”
“Family bonding,” Jace grins.
Garrick ignores the joke and looks at me. His eyes sweep over me carefully, checking without prying. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” my voice sounds small.
He nods. “Good.”
Garrick has been distant with me. Not unkind, never unkind. He just watches me like he is waiting for something to go wrong. Ever since that girl Cassy and her strange behavior around Dravik, something shifted between him and me and I don’t know why.
“Forgive my brother, our dog got his tongue when we were kids and since then he can’t form a long sentence,” Jace winks at me putting his hand over his brother's shoulders.
Garrick removes it, twisting it behind him.
“Ouch,” Jace untwists himself, turning back to me, “Anyways, I came up here to check on you and also to say I’m sorry. Last time we spoke, I was a brute. You know it, I know it. I’ve been trained since birth to be a gentleman, yet there I was failing miserably.”
I smile. “It’s fine.”
“Nope.” He shakes his head. “Not fine. You deserve better. Next time I come across you, I promise not to let my eyes wander, I may even comb my hair so I look presentable.”
“As if you ever look presentable,” Garrick murmurs
“Jealousy is ugly on you,” Jace fires back.
Garrick rolls his eyes. “I’m leaving.”
Jace snatches his arm again. “No you’re not. Stay and be friendly. Try it just once.”
“I am friendly.”
“Grunting at people doesn’t count.”
Garrick shoots me a look that apologizes for having a brother like this.
I find myself smiling again. “Both of you are… different.”
“Different good?” Jace asks hopefully.
“Yes,” I say. “Different good.”
He places a hand over his heart. “Darlin’ that’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me this week.”
“Thats it, I’m out,” Garrick pushes through him, going out the door and shutting it behind him.
Jace stays behind. He throws himself into a chair backwards, resting his arms on the backrest.
“Don’t mind him. Garrick thinks too much. If thinking were a sport he would win every trophy.” He leans in with a teasing grin. “You really doing alright?”
“I think so.”
“Good. Because I was worried. Not terrified. Just… you know… concerned in a very manly way.”
I almost smiled again, His charm is lighter today. Softer, almost respectful. The door opens again and Hope steps in with a sigh.
“Out,” she says.
He lifts both hands, standing up from the chair.
“Okay boss.” He winks at me. “See you later, darling.”
He slips out, kissing hope on the cheeks. Now seeing them together, I can totally see the twin thing going for them.
Though their hair color is different and Jace is a bit taller than Hope, their faces share the same bone structure. High cheekbones, sharp chins, the same stubborn eyebrows that rise the exact same way even though they try their best to act nothing alike.
The same matching jawlines when they turn to look at me, the same long lashes and blue eyes, the small beauty mark they each carry near the corner of their mouths.
Hope shakes her head.
“Sorry about him. The boy talks too much.”
“He is… something.”
“He is.” Hope kneels beside me. “Let me check your wounds.”
I lift my top carefully and I feel how gentle fingers are as she inspects the stitches.
“Good,” she murmurs. “You’re healing. Your Fever has broken and your body is stabilizing.”
“Does that mean whatever was happening is over?”
“It should be.”
I nod though fear still clings to me. Hope pats my hand and stands.
“You did well. That pain would have shattered anyone else.”
Before I could say anything the door opened again and Alpha Dravik stepped inside. Hope straightens and he spares her a glance, refusing to look at me.
“How are the wounds?”
“Closing well,” she answers.
“Good.” He turns and walks out, slamming the door again.
Hope flinches this time. “Alright. I’ll go talk to him before he breaks something.”
She leaves and the room is quiet again. I sit frozen, staring at the door, my pulse racing. His anger presses into the walls even from the hallway.
My chest tightens with guilt.
What the hell did I do?