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The arm with all the scars.
Scars that light up with blue-white the moment I touch it. “Did-did you see that?”
Mari’s covered in sweat, scalpel hovering over the wound. She didn’t see a thing. “Keep going, Mari, before you lose the ground you’ve gained.”
She’s panting, white as a sheet. And she has every right to be. This is the worst healing I’ve ever seen. More traumatic than anything I ever had to do.
“You gotta keep going. You have to be faster than the wolf magic heals, Mari.”
She glares at me. “I know that!”
I squeeze her hand again. “You can do this.”
She hunches over and starts again.
I zone out for some of it. I have to. A person can only take seeing so much torture before their brain makes them dip the fuck out.
This was really a stupid way for our magic to work.
Who were we to tell those Laurel Cove wolves anything when we routinely have to torture the maimed?
It makes no sense.
Mari pauses, shivering all over, dripping sweat everywhere. And again, the sudden loss of tension jolts me forward into Drago.
More blue arcs travel up the scars of his arm.
Huh, kinda like Frankenstein’s Monster, eh?
Mari’s shaking everywhere now, all over. She can hardly hold the scalpel.
“I can’t, Willa. I can’t keep going.”
I shake my head. “You have to. I can’t… I can’t fix him, Mari. You’re the only one who can.”
She’s shivering so hard she can hardly breathe. “I would if I could, dummy. I fucking can’t do it,” she says and slumps over, passing out next to Drago.
I glance from her to Drago, terrified, angry…
“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” I scream.
Drago, who has a preternatural tolerance to pain and only gritted his teeth a few times through the whole process, finally says something. “I need to be whole, Willa. I cannot be the Champion the packs need if I’m broken.”
“I know that! Just let me think!”
“Willa?” Rafe’s voice pierces through my concentration and I shake a hand in the air, telling him to be quiet.
My gaze bounces from him to Mari, searching for the answer like it’s buried in the nest somewhere. If Mari couldn’t do it with the full healer mantle resting squarely on her shoulders, what the fuck was I supposed to do?
A wave of self-pity crashes into me as I realize this is yet another way magic has found to fuck up my shit.
I ball my fists in my lap and scream at the stupid genie giving me deer instead of dollars.
Fear instead of hope.
Questions without answers.
What did I ever do to deserve seeing my mate and sister suffer with no ability to help them?
