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“The bathroom,” I grumbled. And the chance to take full inventory of just how badly fucked up I was. If it matched how I fucking felt, I had to look like complete shit.
“Do you need help?” Finn offered.
“You going to hold my dick for me?” I replied just to get a laugh out of him. The tension in the room broke. Thank fuck. I didn’t need the serious shit on top of the feeling like shit.
Saying I looked like shit was a goddamn understatement. Jesus fuck I look like death. If death looked like someone beat it with a meat tenderizer. At least I’d heal. Even now, I could feel my wolf doing its fucking job on the inside. I splashed cold water on my face and leaned on the counter, sighing heavily.
The fact that I was alive was a fucking miracle. Whatever the fuck Lane did, he’d done it well. Though, I had fucking questions—very particularly about that goddamn statement that Sadie only needed to kill me, my brothers, and my cousins to kill an entire species. That was fucking news to me, and I needed answers fast. That changed the entire fucking game.
“Here,” Genevieve said as she opened the door and slipped inside. “I brought you these.”
She held out clean clothes in one hand and my medication in the other. I smiled at her thoughtfulness.
“I still don’t fucking deserve you,” I told her quietly. In one swallow, I downed the medication without hesitation. She scoffed but said nothing as she offered me the clothes.
“I figured you’d want something more comfortable,” she replied. “We didn’t undress you, so your pants are a mess… I just figured you’d want to do it yourself. Unless you wanted Lane to undress you. He just took care of the… of where she…”
Her lip trembled as she struggled to finish her sentence. I took the clothes from her and set them aside. Not giving a fuck about my own pain, I gathered her in my arms and dragged her close to me.
“You can hug me, princess,” I whispered as I felt her hesitate in touching me. She sank into me, and I bit back a groan. My pain was worth her comfort. “I’m sorry, Genevieve.”
“There was so much blood…”
“I’m sorry,” I repeated. Fuck, I never wanted her to see that. She leaned back, and the expression on her face was unreadable as she searched my face—for what? I didn’t have a fucking clue.
And then she fucking hit me.
Hard.
In the goddamn shoulder.
The pain raced through every fucking bone in my goddamn body. I moaned, doubling over the counter for support.
“You idiot!” Genevieve exclaimed as she hit me in the shoulder a second time—hard enough to damn near take me out by the knees.
“Stop hitting me!” I growled viciously.
“What the hell were you thinking?” she demanded. The aggressiveness in her voice was both off-putting and a fucking turn-on. My dick couldn’t decide which. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”
“I was trying to save the fucking pack!”
“You were taking the easy way out!”
“How?” I shouted. “How the fuck was this the easy way out?”
“You dying is the easy way out!” Genevieve yelled back. She raised her hand to hit me again, but I grabbed her wrist with a dark growl. “You can’t fight this alone, Killian! You can’t! You have to trust others. You have to… you have to let people help you. You have to let us help you!”
“And what are you going to fucking do, Genevieve?” I asked, seething. The audacity of this woman. “Are you going to fucking fight her? Kill her?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know!” She huffed out an angry breath. Fuck me, she never looked hotter as she glared at me and crossed her arms. “You can’t just do everything alone, Ian. You’re going to get yourself killed for no reason.”
“Protecting you isn’t no reason,” I snapped.
“But there are smarter ways to do it than the way you did,” she retorted. With her free hand, she touched my cheek. “Say whatever you want, Killian, but you know there’s better ways to do it than running in without support.”
“I don’t know a better way,” I admitted.
“You called Lane and Beau for a reason,” she said.
