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“I’ll fucking say,” Leith huffed an angry laugh. “What were you thinking? You’re supposed to be a part of our pack and you just run off without saying anything?”
“What was I supposed to say?” Wiz’s brows drew together with frustration as he and the Scotsman exchanged a heated look. “‘Oh, by the way, Ciara is about to flee the country because she feels like she’s bad luck and her dad is dying, okay byeee?’ No. That’s fucking crazy.”
“It’s crazier to cut us off,” Artie cut in, patting around until he found the edge of the little chair next to the bed and settled into it. “We’re a pack and other than that you’re my best friend. If Ciara was going to run you should have told us so we could have come too.”
But Wiz wasn’t hearing any of it. “Even if you were exactly what she was running from? Artie, you didn’t see her. She wasn’t going to wait to have a conversation. Besides, we may be pack, but for me Ciara always comes first. You knew that from the start.”
“Well, we’re here now, so what would you have us do?” I asked, finally speaking for the first time since he’d answered the door.
Wiz’s dark eyes met mine. I could tell he was still pissed at me and I didn’t blame him.
“Now you listen to her and support her. She’s got a lot on her plate and doesn’t need you guys adding any more to it. Some groveling and apologizing wouldn’t hurt either, though.”
“That’s the least I can do,” I said and it made the others laugh, a bright spot in what had been an otherwise dark month.
“Is it bad, then? Her dad’s health?” Artie asked the question we’d all been thinking ever since Alexei told me about it.
Wiz’s half-smile disappeared and he nodded gravely. “The whole situation is fucked. We’ve been here three weeks and it’s only gotten worse. I think the more he talks to her, the more he lets go, his nurses don’t think he’s got more than a couple of weeks left at this point and that’s being generous.”
“And they’re…okay?” Leith asked, frowning.
Wiz snorted. “I can never tell. She’s still pissed at him, but I also think she likes getting to know him and hearing stories about her mom. In any case, she goes every day to see him for a couple of hours.”
As if his words had magically conjured her, the lock on the hotel room door beeped and we all whirled around toward it.
“And apparently she’s back early today,” Wiz said, hurrying to stand and pass us to intercept Ciara first.
Ciara stepped through the door, a bag of food in hand and she started to shrug her plaid jacket off without looking up from her feet. “They had to end visiting hours early because Finneas was falling asleep, so I thought I’d bring you some dim sum from that place you like. It’s all I can seem to keep down these days…”
Then she paused, her nostrils flaring as she kept her eyes locked on the ground.
The bag of food dropped out of her hands and hit the floor with a dull thud.
“Mo ròs.” Leith’s use of the endearment was said on an almost relieved gasp as he moved to take a step closer to her.
But Ciara was having none of it and whirled on her foot and ran right out of the hotel room.
“Damn it, you’re not supposed to be running, Ciara!” Wiz shouted as he took off after her.
There was a crash outside followed by a chorus of cursing from both of the alphas in the hallway.
We hurried to the door and peered outside to find Ciara halfway down the hall on her knees, clearly having fallen, as Wiz tried to help her to her feet.
Wiz was oblivious to us as he hovered over her, his hands gently lifting her up as she let out a sob that nearly tore my heart in two. “You can’t run like that, Ciara, you’re pregnant.”
There was a brief pause as the words seemed to register with Artie, Leith, and I before we all sucked in a tandem gasp.
“She’s what?” We all asked at the same time.
Chapter forty
Ihummed under my breath, dim sum in hand and waved to Molly the desk attendant as I passed her by.
I felt lighter than I had in ages and I had a feeling that it had to do with the fact that, instead of listening to one of the stories about Finneas’s childhood or his time with Mam, we’d just sat and played cards with Orla.
It had tired him out more quickly than usual, but it was nice to just sort-of exist for an afternoon.
I still told him at the end that I didn’t forgive him, just like I did every day—though at this point that was more of a running gag than anything actually serious.
