“You’re still here?” Ethan asked, surprised.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice rough. “I didn’t want him waking up alone.”
I could tell Levi was trying to catch my eye, like warmth at the edge of my vision. My gaze slid away before it could meet his.
Because I hadn’t stayed all night only to make sure the shifter was okay. I’d stayed because I needed to be here when he woke up, to know whether he remembered me. Whether everything I’d built over the past week would collapse in a single sentence.
Ethan stepped closer to the bed. “I’m going to check on him.”
Cooper nodded. “And see if he remembers anything.”
Ethan frowned, glancing back at him. “Let me make sure he’s stable first. He’s been through a lot.”
I edged backward until my shoulders met the wall, putting distance between myself and the bed. From there, I watched Ethan lean over the shifter, his voice gentle as he called softly, trying to rouse him.
He pressed two fingers lightly against the shifter’s wrist, then touched his shoulder. “Hey. Can you hear me? I just need you to wake up for a moment.”
The shifter stirred, brow creasing. My gaze locked onto his face, every muscle in my body tightening.
Don’t look at me. Don’t remember me.
Levi will know. Cooper will know. Everyone will know.
The room suddenly felt too small. My pulse pounded in my ears as the shifter’s eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first. He blinked slowly, confused.
I braced myself. Everything was about to fall apart.
Then a warm hand wrapped around mine.
I startled, looking down. Levi’s fingers had closed gently around my hand. I hadn’t even noticed him moving closer.
“It’s going to be alright,” he murmured, low enough that only I could hear. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
I managed a small, tight smile, but I didn’t pull my hand away.
At the bed, Ethan spoke softly. “Hey there. You’re safe. You’re at Pecan Pines. Can you tell me your name?”
The shifter swallowed. “I… I don’t…” His voice cracked. He shook his head, wincing. “I don’t know.”
“That’s okay,” Ethan said gently. “Do you remember where you came from?”
Another shake of the head. “There was… a truck. I think. And… dark.” His breathing quickened. “I don’t— I can’t?—”
“It’s alright,” Ethan soothed. “You don’t have to force it.”
Cooper and Gino had stepped closer, their expressions tight with concern. The shifter’s gaze flicked between them, then around the room over Ethan and Levi. Over me.
My lungs locked.
But his eyes moved past me without recognition, settling back on Ethan.
“I don’t remember,” he whispered, distressed. “I’m sorry.”
Relief hit so hard my knees almost buckled.
Ethan sighed. “He may have memory gaps. Head injury, trauma… both can do that.” He looked back at the shifter. “You don’t need to worry about anything right now. Just rest.”
The shifter nodded weakly, exhaustion already dragging his eyes closed again.
