Page 200 of Roulette Rodeo
They leave in a flurry of air kisses and promises to return tomorrow with contraband food and gossip, their laughter echoing down the hospital corridor. The sudden quiet feels strange after Poppy's chaotic energy, just the steady beep of monitors and the distant sounds of hospital life.
I sink back into the pillows, exhaustion hitting me all at once. The adrenaline that's been keeping me alert and joking arounddrains away, leaving me aware of every ache and pain. My throat feels like sandpaper, my lungs burn with each deep breath, and the concussion makes everything slightly fuzzy around the edges.
But I'm alive.
My pack is alive.
Briar is somehow here and apparently commanding a small army of firefighters through what I can only assume is sexual prowess and sheer force of will. Classic Briar.
The door opens again, softer this time, and I expect the nurse coming to check vitals or adjust medications. Instead, four familiar scents wash over me—ice and winter storms, cedar and rain, amber and smoke, medicinal pine—and suddenly the hospital room feels less sterile.
"Hey," I whisper, throat too raw for anything louder.
They file in like they're approaching something fragile, something that might shatter if they move too fast or speak too loud. Shiloh reaches me first, his hand immediately finding mine, careful of the IV. Talon takes the chair Poppy vacated, pulling it closer to the bed. Corwin starts checking the monitors with professional interest, probably comparing treatments to what he would have done.
And Rafe... Rafe stands at the foot of the bed, looking at me like I'm a ghost he's afraid to believe in.
"You fucking idiot," he says, and his voice cracks completely.
"Nice to see you too, Ice King," I manage, trying for levity, but then he's moving, crossing the space in two strides and carefully, so carefully, pulling me into his arms.
"You went back," he whispers against my hair. "You saved us all and then you went back for things that don't matter, things that?—"
"They matter to you," I interrupt, even though talking hurts. "So they matter to me."
He pulls back enough to look at me, and his eyes are red-rimmed, devastated. "Not more than you. Nothing matters more than you."
The words hang between us, heavy with meaning, with everything we haven't said these past months. About Sophia, about the past, about what we're building together.
"Well," I say, trying to lighten the moment before we all start crying, "good thing I'm too stubborn to die. Plus, I made a promise to Poppy about riding you all like mechanical bulls, and I keep my promises."
Talon chokes on air. "You what?"
"Poppy says the universe is going to be mean if I don't start having creative sex with you all," I explain seriously. "And after nearly dying in a fire, I'm not about to tempt fate. So once I'm healed, we're doing this. All of us. Possibly simultaneously, though the logistics are still unclear."
"Jesus Christ," Corwin mutters, but he's smiling.
"Our omega nearly dies and comes back hornier than ever," Shiloh says with something between exasperation and fondness. "Of course she does."
"I prefer to think of it as goal-oriented," I correct. "And my goal is to scandalize this entire town even more than I already have. Starting with you four and working my way up to truly shocking levels of public affection."
"You already called me 'Daddy Rafe' in front of three hundred people," Rafe points out, color rising in his cheeks.
"That was just the warm-up," I inform him cheerfully. "Wait until you see what I have planned for the harvest festival."
They all groan in unison, but none of them let go. Shiloh's still holding my hand, Talon's fingers are tangled in my hair, Corwin's hand rests on my ankle over the blanket, and Rafe hasn't moved from where he's pressed against my side.
"No more heroics," Rafe says firmly. "No more running into burning buildings. No more self-sacrifice."
"Says the man who threatened Marnay to his face," I counter.
They all go still.
"About that," I say, and my voice drops to something serious. "We need to talk about what happened. This wasn't random. Those weren't real contractors. And I know exactly whose handiwork this was."
"The drug," Corwin says quietly. "I recognized it once I could think clearly. It's not something you can just buy."
"Crimson Roulette special blend," I confirm. "Marnay's signature when he needs someone compliant but can't risk killing them. The fire was probably meant to do that part after."
