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“Hey.” I turned hesitantly, looking into Lola’s eyes. “Do you think you might be able to help someone else? Another shifter with a different problem than Zander’s?”
“Who are you thinking of?” Lola asked curiously, her brow furrowing in thought.
“Ridge’s aunt Lucille,” I whispered. “She’s been in a mostly feral state for years, and I can’t help but wonder if your magic could make a difference for her, too.”
Lola nodded slowly. “I’m happy to try, Tori. Now that I know I can help shifters like this, I want to do whatever I can.”
“Thank you, Lola,” I said, an immense wave of gratitude washing over me. My friend had grown so much stronger, and her generosity knew no bounds. Armed with this new hope, I went to find Ridge.
“Ridge,” I said softly, touching his arm to get his attention as he spoke with Eleanor and Julia.
He turned toward me. “What is it, Tori?” he asked, sounding concerned.
“Can we talk privately for a moment?” I requested, glancing around at the others. He nodded, and we stepped away from the group.
“Listen,” I said. “Lola thinks she might be able to help Lucille, too. She’s willing to try, at least.”
“Really?” I saw the mix of emotions playing out across his face—hope, fear, uncertainty. “I don’t know if I should get my hopes up. The main reason Aunt Lucille’s been so feral is that she can’t cope with the loss of her fated mate. But...her condition has worsened lately, and I worry we might lose her completely.”
I grabbed his hand and brushed my lips over his palm. “It’s worth a shot. If there’s even the slightest chance that Lola could help, don’t you think we owe it to Lucille to try?”
He looked down, rubbing his free hand through his hair, then nodded. “You’re right. We have to try for her sake. Thank you for thinking of her.”
“Of course.” My heart blazed with affection for this man who cared so deeply for his family. Together, we went back to the others and shared our plan.
As Ridge drove Lola and me to the care facility, I explained to her what I knew and understood of Lucille’s condition. “Lucille and Ridge’s uncle Vincent were fated mates. Hunters took them. They were both presumed dead, but Lucille turned up in Blackwood Creek. When Vincent died, it broke something inside Lucille.”
Lola looked at me, her face full of anguish for a woman she didn’t know.
“Ridge cared for her at his house until it became dangerous for the community,” I continued. “As the disease took over more and more, she began shifting uncontrollably. So Ridge had this care home built for feral shifters, so they can have every home comfort possible. At the moment, his aunt is the facility’s only occupant.”
Lola placed a hand on Ridge’s shoulder in sympathy. I braced myself for one of my wolf’s jealous bouts, but was relieved when none occurred.
Lola looked hesitantly between us, her voice filled with apprehension. “I’m still so new to magic. I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
“The fact you’re willing to try anything is amazing,” Ridge said. “Recently, it’s seemed she’s been more feral than ever, as if the wolf inside has taken over control. If you can even give her some peace from herself, I’d be grateful.”
“Are you ready for this?” I asked Ridge after we’d arrived and were standing outside the care facility. The building loomed before us, and memories of my previous visit swirled in my mind. It hadn’t ended well. Lucille had gone feral and almost attacked me.
Ridge, his gaze steady on the entrance, said, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Let’s go, then,” Lola said with quiet resolve.
The sterile smell of antiseptic hit me immediately, but it couldn’t disguise the underlying scents of fear and sadness that clung to the walls. We made our way past the front desk, where an older woman nodded for us to carry on down the corridor.
Lucille’s room was at the end of the hall, and as we approached, I heard faint growls emanating from behind the door. My heart clenched at the sounds. They were coming from someone who was once a loving mother figure to Ridge.
“Here goes nothing,” Ridge muttered, reaching out to open the door. He hesitated for a moment, his hand shaking slightly, and I reached out to grasp it, giving him a supportive squeeze. He met my steady gaze, gratitude flickering in their depths, and then pushed the door open.
The sight that greeted us tore at my heart. Lucille was huddled in a corner, her human form marred by the wildness in her eyes and the tension in her muscles. She tracked our movements as we entered, her suspicious gaze darting between us.
“Hey, Aunt Lucille,” Ridge said softly, trying to put her at ease, but she didn’t recognize him. At least, not fully. She growled again, low and threatening, and I could see it hurt Ridge to see her like this.
“Let me try.” Lola stepped forward and extended her hand, palm up, in a non-threatening gesture. “Hi, Lucille. My name is Lola. We’re not here to hurt you. We want to help.”
Lucille’s gaze flicked between Lola and Ridge, confusion mixed with wariness. She seemed to be trapped in a state of torment and unable to escape.
I reached out and took Ridge’s hand, offering him the same support he’d always given me. He squeezed my fingers tightly, and a tear tracked down his cheek.
