That must be his gift. I’ll have to revisit this later.
Once they’re gone, Cade turns to me. He runs his hand across the back of his neck. “I’m glad you were there. Thank you.”
I’m not sure what sort of madhouse I’ve found myself in, but there’s something incredibly different about the Aldens from the rest of the Ardeleans. There’s a secret, and it’s one I haven’t quite been let in on.
Chapter 18
Lena
I will never be judgmental of a human with a cold ever again. I’ll never ask why they don’t tough it out. If this is truly what a cold is like, I don’t understand how they’ve survived as a species. My entire body hurts. I’m cramping again like when I was in heat, except I don’t have any energy left to even beg for relief.
My wolf whines, and it’s as weak as I feel, but I can tell she’s looking for Finn.
I’ve never talked to Ansel about how I die. I never wanted to know. Maybe that was a mistake. Our dear cousin, with the Ardelean gift of seeing how you die, he’s very cautious with using his gift. Ansel doesn’t take the information he holds in his head lightly, but if you ask, he won’t lie or hold it back. It’s why he’s so good at his job, which is taking care of mentally unwell wolves. Ansel gives them all the time he can.
Would it be comforting to know if this was it? I could spend the last bit of my time with people I love rather than fighting for my life?
Like our mate? my wolf interjects with a firm growl and snap of her teeth.
She’s uncharacteristically loud. I can’t seem to keep her at bay.
“Hey, Lena, whatcha got der?” Deacon’s voice cuts through in a thick fake Minnesotan accent.
It’s been our thing forever. Now, more than ever, I’m glad to hear something normal.
“Oh, well Lars, dis here’s a thermos. It keeps hot tings hot and cold tings cold,” I answer back with as much as I can muster.
“Whatcha got in dat der thermos, Lena?” Deacon’s eyes are watery, and he picks up my hand, squeezing it tightly.
His eyes aren’t bloodshot. Is he sober?
“Vell Lars, I got a popsicle and two cups a coffee.” I laugh, and it makes me cough.
Deacon sits down on the bed next to me. His accent falls away, but the levity stays. “You’re gonna be okay.”
“Yeah?” I ask as his hand pets across my head. “How do you know that? The ancestors figure out how to see the future?”
He huffs and answers, “I texted Ansel. He’s sorry you’re not feeling well and said you’ll have to try harder at the dying part.”
“Damn, guess that means you’re stuck with me.” I smile.
He knew. Deacon always knows what I need. Even if he’s sucked at giving it to me sometimes, he’s tried. My body melts into the bed. Fear about my situation lessens.
He nods. “You should be talking to Finn. You know that.”
I hate when Deacon, of all people, gets judgy. I curl my toes, trying to hide my feelings as far away from my face as I can. “I don’t want to see him. He claimed me, Deacon. I’m not free.”
Tears well in my eyes. Deacon holds my hand like he did when I broke my leg or when I had nightmares or anytime I struggled in school. “Vell, Lena, I guess it’s gunna be like dem der turn signals. Sometimes it’ll verk and sometimes it’ll not verk.”
I nod.
Dinah clears her throat. “We’ve got the machine ready. Let’s get to figuring it out.”
Deacon kisses my forehead and lets go of my hands. “Dinah, I want pictures of Lena’s heart if you get them. ’Cause, you know, she claims to not have one.”
“I’ll see if I can find it.” Dinah laughs and gives me a wink.
Deacon kisses the top of Dinah’s head as he gives her a half hug before heading out the door.