Chapter 47 Stitches and Promises
Pain woke me.
Sharp. Burning. Radiating from my shoulder through my entire body.
I tried to move. Couldn’t. Something held my arm down. Bandages. Heavy and tight.
“Don’t.” A hand on my good shoulder. Gentle. Familiar. “You’ll tear the stitches.”
Lycian’s voice. Rough. Like he’d been screaming. Or crying. Maybe both.
I opened my eyes slowly. White ceiling. Beeping monitors. The smell of antiseptic and herbs. Pack Medical Center.
Lycian sat beside the bed. He looked terrible. Dark circles under his eyes. Hair a mess. Shirt wrinkled and stained with something dark. Blood. My blood.
“Hey,” I whispered. My throat was dry. Raw.
His eyes closed. Relief crashed through the bond so intensely it made my chest ache. “Hey yourself.”
“How long?”
“Two days. You’ve been out for two days.” His hand found mine. Careful of the IV. “The bullet went through your shoulder. Missed major arteries but did damage. Dr. Rivera had to operate.”
Two days. I’d lost two whole days.
“Sarah?”
His expression went dark. Cold. “Dead. Cade shot her when she fired at you. She died instantly.”
I should feel something about that. Guilt maybe. Sadness. But I just felt empty. Tired.
“Anyone else hurt?”
“Cade took a bullet to the leg. He’s fine. Healing.” Lycian’s thumb traced circles on my palm. “You took the worst of it. Protected him by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Not the wrong place. She was aiming at me specifically.”
“I know.” His voice cracked. “I felt you get shot. Through the bond. Felt your pain. Your fear. Then nothing. You went dark and I thought…” He couldn’t finish. Didn’t need to.
Through the bond, I felt his lingering terror. The echo of thinking he’d lost me. It made my own eyes burn.
“I’m okay,” I said. Even though I wasn’t. Even though my shoulder screamed and my head pounded. “I’m still here.”
“Because Cade acted fast. Because Dr. Rivera is skilled. Because you’re stubborn and refused to die.” He leaned forward. Pressed his forehead to mine. “Don’t do that again. Don’t almost leave me.”
“I’ll try.”
“Promise me. Actually promise.”
“I promise I’ll try not to get shot again.” It was the best I could offer. We both knew it wasn’t enough.
The door opened. Dr. Rivera entered with Thaddeus behind her.
“You’re awake,” she said. Checking monitors. “Good. Your vitals are stable. Healing well for human standards.”
“When can I leave?”
“Eager to go already?” She smiled slightly. “A few more days. I want to monitor for infection. Make sure the shoulder heals correctly.”
“The final trial is in less than two weeks. I need to train. Prepare.”
The room went silent. Everyone looked at each other. Then at me.
“Elowen,” Thaddeus said carefully. “You were shot. You almost died. The trial can wait.”
“No. It can’t. If I postpone, they win. They get exactly what they want. For me to quit. To fail.”
“Sarah is dead,” Lycian said. “She can’t hurt you anymore.”
“But whoever helped her escape is still out there. Whoever sent those messages. Whoever’s behind all of this.” I tried to sit up. Pain lanced through my shoulder. I bit back a groan. “I’m finishing the trials. All of them. On schedule.”
“You can barely move,” Dr. Rivera said. “The shoulder needs weeks to heal properly. You won’t be able to do physical challenges.”
“Then I’ll adapt. Work around it. But I’m not quitting.”
Lycian looked at his father. Some silent conversation passed between them.
“She’s as stubborn as her mate,” Thaddeus said finally. “We’ll adjust the final trial. Make accommodations for the injury. But Elowen, if Dr. Rivera says you’re not medically cleared, this discussion is over.”
“I’ll be cleared. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Dr. Rivera sighed. “I’ll evaluate you daily. If you show adequate healing, I’ll consider it. But you follow my orders exactly. Rest. Physical therapy. No overexertion.”
“Deal.”
After they left, Lycian stayed. Sat in the chair. Held my hand. The bond hummed between us. Quiet now. Steady.
“You’re insane,” he said. No heat in it. Just tired acceptance.
“You already knew that.”
“I did. But I keep hoping you’ll surprise me with some self-preservation instinct.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” I squeezed his hand. “Tell me what happened. After I passed out.”
His jaw clenched. “My wolf took over. Completely. I shifted before I even registered the decision. Cade had already shot Sarah but I didn’t know that. Didn’t know anything except you were bleeding and she’d hurt you.”
“What did you do?”
“Made sure she was dead. Then carried you to the car. Drove like hell to get you here.” His voice was hollow. Haunted. “You were so pale. So still. Blood everywhere. The bond was barely there. Just this thin thread.”
I reached up with my good hand. Touched his face. He leaned into it. Eyes closing.
“I’m sorry I scared you.”
“Don’t apologize. Just heal. Get strong again.” He kissed my palm. “Then we’re leaving. Taking that beach trip. Disappearing for a month at least.”
“After the trial.”
“After the trial,” he agreed reluctantly.
Aunt Clara visited that afternoon. She tried to be strong. Smiled. Held my hand. But I saw the fear in her eyes. The way her fingers shook.
“I’m okay,” I told her. “Really.”
“You were shot, baby. That’s not okay.” Her voice cracked. “I should never have let you get involved in all this. Should have taken you away when I had the chance.”
“I chose this. You didn’t force me into anything.”
“But I let you choose. Knowing how dangerous it was.” She wiped her eyes. “What if next time they succeed? What if I lose you?”
“You’re not going to lose me. I’m too stubborn to die.”
She laughed through tears. “You get that from me.”
Elena and Damien came next. Bought flowers and magazines. Terrible jokes that made my shoulder hurt from trying not to laugh.
“Cade says you saved his life,” Elena said. “You were in front of him when Sarah fired. If you hadn’t been there, he might have taken a worse hit.”
“I didn’t do anything. Just got shot.”
“Sometimes that’s enough.” Damien grinned. “You’re officially a badass now. Taking bullets. Very Luna behavior.”
“Please don’t make this into pack gossip.”
“Too late. Everyone’s talking about how you got shot and still insist on finishing trials. You’re like a folk hero.”
I groaned. “That’s not helpful.”
“It kind of is though,” Elena said. “People who doubted you are changing their minds. Seeing your dedication. Your strength. You’re winning them over.”
“By getting hurt?”
“By refusing to quit. Even when you have every reason to.” She touched my good hand. “That matters more than you know.”
Over the next few days, more visitors came. Pack members I barely knew. Bringing gifts. Wishing me well. Apologizing for doubting me.
It was overwhelming. Humbling. Strange.
By day five, I could sit up without crying. By day seven, I could walk short distances. Dr. Rivera cleared me for light physical therapy.
“The shoulder is healing faster than expected,” she said. Unwrapping bandages. “But you still can’t do heavy lifting. No combat training. No obstacle courses.”
“What can I do?”
“Light cardio. Stretching. Mental preparation.” She rewrapped the shoulder in fresh bandages. “The final trial will need significant modifications. I’m recommending to the council that they adjust accordingly.”
The final trial was in five days.
Five days to prepare for a combined challenge I couldn’t fully participate in. Five days to prove myself one last time.
Lycian brought study materials to my hospital room. We went over the pack law. History. Protocol. Everything I might need for the mental portion.
“The physical challenge will be the problem,” he said. Reviewing notes. “Standard final trial includes a combat demonstration. You can’t fight with one arm.”
“So they’ll adjust. Like Dr. Rivera said.”
“Or they’ll postpone. Give you time to heal properly.”
“No postponing. We do this on schedule or not at all.”
He looked at me. Really looked. “Why are you pushing so hard? What are you trying to prove?”
“That I belong here. That I’m worth everything you’ve sacrificed for me.”
“You don’t have to prove that to me. I already know.”
“But I need to prove it to myself.” I met his eyes. “I need to finish this. To know I didn’t quit.”
He understood. The bond settled between us.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “Then we finish this. Together.”
The night before the trial, Thaddeus visited. Alone.
“My mate would have liked you,” he said. “You have her fire. Her refusal to accept limitations.”
“She died protecting the pack,” he continued. “I see that same instinct in you. It’s admirable. And terrifying.”
He stood. “Tomorrow is your final test. Not just of skill. Of character. Think carefully about what you want.”
He left me with that cryptic advice.
I didn’t sleep that night. Just lie there. Thinking. Preparing. Wondering what tomorrow would bring.
At dawn, my phone buzzed.
Unknown number. One last message.
Tomorrow changes everything. Win or lose. Live or die. We’ll be watching.