Page 39 of The Wolf's Mate

“Hettie,” I groan, picturing her over my knee, ass bared. My cock hardens at the thought of her red cheeks and the moans she’d make.

“Fine,” she sighs dramatically, taking hold of my hand. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. “Let’s go so you can see that I’m fine, and we can get back to our pack—Rip! I can walk; put me the fuck down!”

There is no way I would allow Hettie to walk back to the packhouse while she’s unsteady on her feet. This also gives me an excuse to touch her, which I’m not passing up, even as she protests most of the way back. She gives up trying to argue with me about halfway home and falls into a pout instead. It’s damn cute.

Once back in our room, I sit her on the bed. “Strip,” I call over my shoulder, heading to the bathroom for some necessities. I hear her grumble about “stubborn alphas,” which I ignore and grab a towel, wetting it with warm water, and a salve for her cheek.

When I come back into the room, Hettie is naked in my—our—bed. Her beautiful body is on display for me, but I don’t allow myself to drink her in. It would be too easy to give in to temptation, but I brought her here for a reason. My eyes scan her body for injuries. I find none but a red mark on her cheek and dried blood on the top of her head. Blood coats her arms, but none of it belongs to her. Only Michael.

Pride swells in my chest at the fight my mate put up. I lean down and work in silence, cleaning Michael’s blood off her. The once white towel is now stained pink. I drop it to the ground and reach for the salve. “Does your face sting?”

“A little,” she admits. “My head too.”

“I’ll make tea for your headache soon, but this should help your cheek.” I dip into the salve, bring my hand to her face and gently rub it on her. Our eyes are locked in an intense stare, drawing me closer to her.

Hettie’s breath hitches before biting down on her lip. She’s only a hair's breadth away from me now. I could kiss her. I want to kiss her, but before I get the opportunity, Hettie clears her throat and breaks the silence.

“Am I healed, Dr. Rip?” she asks, trying to lighten the mood with humor. Just like she did this morning before things could go any further. She’s scared of something; I just don’t know what.

Reluctantly, I pull back. “You are. I’m proud of you, Hettie. What you did today was amazing. Our pack will remember this.”

The smile that lights up her features isn’t one I’ve seen before. Her eyes shine with unshed tears, and I wonder if she’s ever heard those words before.

“Thank you.” Hettie pushes herself off the bed. “Give me five minutes to get ready. I want to check on everyone and help Tallie get the pups back to their families.”

As much as I want to stay in this room and have my Dove to myself, I can’t. Our duty is to our pack, and the pack deserves to see their Luna.

Chapter 18

Hettie

The infirmary is just as sterile as the last time I was here. It’s cold, and death lingers in the air. The sound of sickness is everywhere. In every cough. In every moan. In every cry. I hate it. It seeps deep into my bones, making each step feel heavier than the last. I’m transported back to the hospital my father stayed at for his final days.

Rip squeezes my arm, and I tilt my head up to get a good look at him. He pulls me closer, offering me silent comfort. He must have picked up my emotions from the bond. After telling him a little about my father, Rip knows better than anyone how uneasy I am around medical facilities. But this is a necessity.

Since the attack two days ago, he hasn’t slept much. Neither have I. He’s been busy dealing with his patrol, making sure that what happened two days ago doesn’t happen again. It’s more difficult than ever because we have fewer wolves daily. I wish I could help more, but I feel limited in what I can do.

I’m not a wolf. I don’t have the abilities that come with being a wolf shifter. I’m just a human.

Rip thinks I’m capable of more. Ender too, or else he wouldn’t have brought me here, but I’m still figuring out how I fit in here.

“Are you okay?” Rip spares me a quick glance. He’s distracted, has been for the last few days, but he’s not forgotten to check in on me. It feels…nice.

“I’m fine.” It’s not a lie, exactly, but it’s not fully the truth. I’m still shaken up from the attack and Michael’s ominous words. But right now, we have other things to worry about. A sick feeling stirs in the pit of my stomach at what the doctors might inform us of today.

Rip and I aren’t alone. Thorne’s there too, and, by my request, so is Tallie. Call it trauma bonding, but the last two days, we’ve been inseparable. She keeps me calm, and I think I do the same for her, especially when both Thorne and Rip are otherwise occupied. Which has been a lot in the last forty-eight hours.

Lucielle, the lead healer in charge of creating a cure, is also with us. She wears her white lab coat like armor, wrapping her arms around herself. I remember Rip explaining that her husband was one of the first to die from the curse. Being back at the place where the love of your life took their last breath is the worst feeling.

Her ivory-colored skin is even paler than the last time I met her. She looks like a ghost wandering these halls. Perhaps she is. Too many memories linger here, and not good ones. Despite the heartache she is forced to endure again, she keeps her head high as we walk into the only available room left at the infirmary, which happened to be a breakroom for the healers.

An older man awaits us, though I don’t catch his name when Rip introduces the beta as a healer. The beta’s glasses are slightly askew and sit low on his nose. Dark circles lie underneath his eyes, and he runs his hand through hair that needs a good washing. This beta requested his King Alpha and Luna, but that’s all any of us knows.

“I’m afraid I have some damning news, King Alpha.” His grave tone gives way to my earlier fears, and I reach for Rip just as he threads his fingers through mine. It’s a new development between us, reaching out for each other during trying times. He grounds me in a way no one else has before, and I hope I can do the same.

“Out with it, then. What is it, beta?” Rip’s agitation simmers through, but he is doing his best to hold it back.

“We had hoped the injured wolves from the attack would show progress. Unfortunately, none of them have healed. With injuries like theirs, they should have left the day they were admitted,” he says.

---