Chapter 36 One More Thing
I looked up at Thaddeus. Mud crusted in my hair. Blood dripped from my palms onto Lycian’s shirt. Everything hurt.
“What one more thing?” My voice came out hoarse. Raw from smoke and screaming.
Thaddeus walked closer. His shoes were polished. Clean. Everything I wasn’t. He looked down at me with an expression I couldn’t read.
“Stand up.”
Lycian helped me. My legs shook. My twisted ankle barely held my weight. But I stood.
“The physical trial tests endurance,” Thaddeus said. “But it also tests something else. Character. How you handle failure. How you treat others when you’re suffering.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You failed the time requirement. By thirty-seven minutes.” He circled me slowly. Assessing. “But you also went back when you fell. Restarted obstacles instead of skipping them. Finished even after the time expired. Why?”
“Because you said no skipping. And because I needed to know I could finish.”
“Even though finishing wouldn’t change your result?”
“Yes.”
He stopped in front of me. “During the mud pit, you saw another wolf struggling. A young trainee who’d frozen halfway through. You stopped. Talked her through it. Cost you five minutes.”
I remembered. A girl. Maybe sixteen. Panicking under the barbed wire. I’d crawled next to her. Told her to breathe. To focus on one movement at a time. Stayed until she started moving again.
“I thought that would disqualify me,” I said. “Cade said no accepting help. I figured giving help was the same thing.”
“It should have disqualified you.” Thaddeus’s expression shifted slightly. “But Cade made a judgment call. Decided helping others shows pack mentality. Luna's qualities.” He paused. “Do you know what a Luna’s primary duty is?”
“Leading? Supporting the Alpha?”
“Protecting the pack. Even at personal cost. Even when it hurts you.” His voice was quiet. Almost gentle. “My mate understood that. She failed her first physical trial too. By forty minutes. But she also stopped to help three other wolves. Put their success above her own time.”
Tears burned my eyes. From pain. From exhaustion. From the weight of what he was saying.
“You passed,” Thaddeus said. “Not because you finished the course. But because you showed what matters most. Pack over self.”
Relief hit me so hard my knees gave out. Lycian caught me. Held me up while I sobbed into his chest.
“Get her to medical,” Thaddeus told Lycian. “Those hands need treatment. The ankle too.”
“Thank you,” I managed. Looking at him through tears. “For giving me a chance.”
Something flickered across his face. Regret maybe. Or remembered grief. “My mate would have liked you. She had the same stubborn streak.” He turned to leave. Stopped. “The second trial is in two weeks. Mental challenge. Be ready.”
He walked away. Left me covered in mud and blood and surrounded by people who maybe, finally, saw me as something other than weak.
Lycian carried me to his car. I protested. Said I could walk. He ignored me completely.
“You just jumped through fire,” he said. Buckling me in like I was made of glass. “You’re not walking anywhere.”
The drive to pack medical felt long. Every bump in the road sent pain shooting through my ankle. My hands throbbed in time with my heartbeat.
Through the bond, I felt Lycian’s barely controlled fury. Not at me. At himself. At the trial. At having to watch me suffer and not be able to help.
“Stop,” I said quietly.
“Stop what?”
“Beating yourself up. I can feel it through the bond.”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I watched you fall. Get hurt. Bleed. And I couldn’t do anything.”
“That was the point. I had to do it alone.”
“I hated every second.”
“I know. I felt that too.” I reached over. Put my muddy, bloody hand on his. “But I did it. I actually did it.”
His expression softened. “You did. You were incredible.”
“I cried. And fell. And took forever.”
“You also helped someone else when you were suffering. Finished even when you’d already failed the time.” He lifted my hand. Kissed the knuckles gently. Careful of the raw skin. “That’s not weakness. That’s strength.”
Pack Medical was in the main estate. A whole wing dedicated to healing. It smelled like antiseptic and herbs. Strange combination.
A woman met us at the entrance. Older. Gray hair pulled back. Kind eyes that widened when she saw me.
“What happened?”
“First trial,” Lycian said. Carrying me inside. “She needs treatment.”
The woman, whose name was Dr. Rivera, led us to an exam room. White walls. Sterile equipment. Normal hospital stuff mixed with things I didn’t recognize. Herbs. Crystals. Wolf healing methods.
“Set her on the table,” Dr. Rivera said. “Gently.”
Lycian put me down as I might shatter. Stayed close. His hand on my shoulder. Anchoring.
Dr. Rivera examined my hands first. Her touch was gentle but clinical. “Second-degree burns on the palms. Multiple lacerations. Some deep enough to need stitches.”
“Will she be okay?” Lycian asked. Voice tight.
“She’ll heal. But it’ll take time. And hurt quite a bit.” Dr. Rivera looked at me. “I can give you something for the pain. Strong enough to knock you out for a few hours.”
“No. I want to stay awake.”
“The treatment will be painful without medication.”
“I don’t care. I want to feel it.” I needed to feel it. Needed to remember that I’d survived. That I was strong enough to endure.
Dr. Rivera glanced at Lycian. He nodded slightly. Understanding what I couldn’t put into words.
She cleaned my hands first. Each wipe of antiseptic felt like fire. I bit my lip. Tasted blood. Didn’t make a sound.
Through the bond, Lycian took some of my pain. I felt him flinch with each sting. His wolf is rising. Wanting to protect me from this too.
The stitches were worse. Six on my left hand. Four on my right. I watched the needle go in and out. Watched my skin pull together. Stayed present for all of it.
“You’re tougher than you look,” Dr. Rivera said. Wrapping my hands in clean white bandages. “Most wolves cry during this part.”
“I already cried enough today.”
She smiled. Moved to my ankle. Examined it carefully. “Sprained. Not broken. You’ll need to stay off it for a week. Ice and elevation.”
“A week? I can’t. I have the second trial in two weeks.”
“Then you'd better rest now so you can handle it then.” She wrapped the ankle firmly. “No running. No training. Just healing.”
Lycian helped me off the table. I wobbled. He caught me immediately. His arm is around my waist. Supporting.
“I can walk,” I said.
“You heard the doctor. No walking.” He scooped me up again. “You’re going to rest. Actually rest. For once in your stubborn life.”
We got home around noon. Aunt Clara was in the kitchen. She gasped when she saw me.
“What happened?” She rushed over. Touched my face. My bandaged hands. “Baby, are you okay?”
“I passed the first trial.”
“This is what passing looks like?” Her voice shook. “They hurt you.”
“They tested me. There’s a difference.” I let Lycian carry me to his room. Set me gently on the bed. “I’m okay. Really.”
She didn’t look convinced. But she nodded. Brought me water. Pain medication I actually took this time. Fussed until Lycian gently guided her out.
“Let her rest,” he said. “She needs sleep.”
When we were alone, he helped me out of my destroyed clothes. Got me into the shower. Washed the mud from my hair. Careful of my bandages. My injuries.
The water ran brown. Then pink. Finally clear.
I leaned against him. Let him hold my weight. Too tired to be embarrassed. Too grateful to care.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “For being here. For believing in me.”
“Always.” He kissed my wet hair. “I love you. Mud and all.”
After the shower, he dressed me in his softest shirt. Tucked me into bed. The sheets smelled like him. Like safety.
“Sleep,” he said. Lying down beside me. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
I closed my eyes. Let exhaustion pull me under. The bond wrapped around us both. Warm. Constant.
Before sleep claimed me completely, I heard my phone buzz. A message.
Lycian checked it. I felt his tension through the bond. Sharp. Worried.
“What is it?” I asked. Fighting to stay awake.
“Nothing. Just pack stuff. Sleep.”
But through the bond, I felt his lie. Felt his concern.
Something was wrong.