Page 72 of Red

Chapter 22

The first thing I notice is a hand rubbing my hair back. I let out a soft sigh, my lips curling into a smile.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart. You need to be careful you don’t burn yourself out.” Mom’s face is filled with worry lines while she sits at the edge of my bed. I’m getting better at healing myself; I want to try to heal them next.

The hand keeps stroking down my hair as I drift back into a dreamless sleep.

I’m not sure how long it’s been when I wake again. I stretch out, testing my back’s movement, and hum to myself. It worked. I know I can rely on it, but magic use has its risks and its own rules. I only learn by trial and error.

A warm hand cups mine and blue eyes stare down at me. “You’ve been asleep for a day.”

“It’s normal,” I say, arching my sensitive back across the bed.

“I can’t agree with you on that. Can I get you something?”

I yawn and roll back over. “Just more sleep.”

Darkness cloaks most of the space when I next wake up, and I sit up at the edge of the bed, partially wrapped in a sheet. Stark sits in the chair he brought in with a book under the glow of a small bedside lamp. He looks up, then right back down to the open pages. I glance down at my bare legs, the sheet not holding many secrets. Sometimes, the sleep after healing is intense.

“I can’t have you leave the room. You should be out for weeks,” he says.

“It’s okay.” I pull the sheet off the bed with me and head to the mirror in the bathroom.

There are twelve purple lines cross-hatched from the top of my back to the bottom. A few longer strokes wrap further around to my side. I didn’t anticipate physical punishment. Maybe a bit of anger at the risk aspect of it and ignoring the rules, but nothing physical. They didn’t listen to a thing I wanted to say.

My mom always told me horror stories about the Elders, but I always thought she was elaborating to scare me and make me want to keep my secret. Now I know—they wouldn’t even blink to kill me. They’re intimidated by Stark, and he’s one of them.

I slip into a new robe I find at the back of the bathroom door—ruby red like my own hair. My stomach sinks. If only.

I swoop the brunette waves back over my shoulders. “Where did this come from?” I ask, playing with the silk knot.

“I didn’t need you cutting curtains down again if clothes hurt to put on.” He smirks.

I tap my lips and cover my smile. “I guess I can read a few books. What does everyone think?”

Stark looks up, that calm mask gone. “That you’re drugged on human pain pills”—he shakes a bottle next to him—“and healing. Everyone is still here, working in shifts, so I can’t send them home.”

I tilt my head to read the cover of the book resting on the arm of the chair—Unique Werewolf Abilities. My breath stops, and I move over to the smaller chair. I shouldn’t have let him in. This puts him in danger. I can’t tell him the truth.

“I, um . . . You didn’t tell anyone?”

He shakes his head and groans. “What am I supposed to tell them? The girl they think is human magically healed cuts as deep as bone by sitting in a bathtub?”

“I guess when you put it that way . . .”

“I won’t tell anyone if you tell me how you do it.”

I hike my legs up under me and watch my new unsolicited roommate. The one I kissed . . . that I shouldn’t be thinking about. But I find myself thinking about how he stormed into the Elders’ Chambers . . . threatening them all.

His dark hair is longer again, wisping around the back of his neck. The short-sleeve shirt exposes the muscles that run from his neck down. He fills the large chair with ease, resting his fingers across the book. There’s nothing in that one. I’ve read it before.

“No,” I say.

“No?”

Those eyes glower at me. I get why he wants to know, but there’s too much that could go wrong. I don’t want to imagine what else the Elders’ Council is capable of.

“You didn’t tell anyone, and I’m grateful, but you can leave me alone now. I’m not going anywhere, and no, I’m not telling you.”