Page 6 of Son of a Witch

“Your blanket’s fallen down.” Pascal hefted Tor’s bedding up.

“I can do it, buddy.” Tor gripped Pascal’s wrist and squeezed, telling him to back the fuck off.

“Sure, you can, Tor.” Defeated, Pascal sank back into his adjacent gurney under the heavy glare of Tor. We were all playing our part to help him. Pascal more so than others, motivated by guilt for the accident.

Knoxe cupped the back of my neck and massaged, but it did nothing to ease the swelling pressure.

After the accident, Pascal confessed to me that he blamed himself for Tor’s condition. It wasn’t his fault. Wrong situation at the wrong time.

Knoxe had forced Pascal to continue with the mission even though he wasn’t well. Pascal’s headaches got the better of him in the subway, and Knoxe refused to let up when I argued to return him to the Guardians. Our leader insisted that Pascal needed the bounty points and couldn’t afford to draw the warden’s attention with his drug use. I didn’t blame either of them. We’d all fucked up that day.

Styx had broken Tor’s back and he would pay.

Looking back, the vampire leader had let us catch him and a few of his generals and soldiers, luring us into a false sense of security. Styx let us take him back to the Guardian’s gantii lockup. Then his army siphoned the magick off the prison, allowing him to break out, taking hundreds of other prisoners with him, killing many guards and inmates on the way. Fucking bloodbath.

“Come here, Supergirl.” Tor held his arms open wide. “Let Candy Guy sweeten you up from that sour Knoxe.”

I couldn’t help but smile. Even though he was hurting both physically and emotionally, he remained upbeat for us. At some point, it was going to come crashing down, and I vowed to be there when it happened.

I left Knoxe with a swipe of his bicep and crossed to Tor’s bed, offering Pascal a smile even though he slumped in his bed, tapping musical notes on his thigh.

“Get some rest.” I cupped Pascal’s head and he twitched and looked up at me. The doctor had given him some pain relief for his headache.

I dropped a kiss to the top of his head, letting him know I supported him through this. Everything would be difficult for all of us from now on.

“I don’t want to rest.” Pascal tapped his fingers on his knees, needing the music to soothe his agitation and unrest.

We’d talk later. In private, where he could feel comfortable discussing his feelings. I didn’t want him throwing around his blame in front of Tor when the team desperately needed balance, not fingers pointed again. Conditions in the prison had pushed us to our limits, and we were at breaking point.

Raze’s secrets divided us further, I’d taken sides, hurt my men, and I didn’t want more disharmony in the ranks to tear us apart for good. We were one man down and I couldn’t lose the rest of my pack.

I stroked Pascal’s cheek, but he didn’t notice me, lost in his world of musical notes and rhythms.

I climbed into bed beside Tor.

“Hey, Supergal.” He lowered an arm over my shoulders as I snuggled into his hard, broken body. Of all my men, he’d need me the most, and I dreaded neglecting the others and causing more division between us. “Give me some lovin’.” He squeezed me, but he didn’t have the same strength he once did.

I ran my hand over his chest, inhaling his scent. Cinnamon and hazelnut. Definitely sweet like candy. “How are you?”

“Better than ever.” A big, fat lie. His torso rocked with tremors, either a reaction from the injury or him hiding his despair and gloom.

Tor putting on a brave face cut me deeper than Raze’s banishment. My Candy Guy was always strong for everyone. Providing for and supporting his family to his own detriment and punishment. Protecting me and taking me under his wing when I first arrived. Being Pascal’s big brother and looking out for him. Now it was our turn to be strong for him.

I reached for his face and stroked it. “You don’t have to be strong for us, Tor.”

I wanted him to cut the bullshit act. Stop pretending to be brave and macho. Show us his vulnerability and fear if he needed to. Scream out his pain. We wouldn’t hold it against him, we’d love and support him.

“I’m fine, Supergal. Really.” About as convincing as a salesman on a deadline to make a quota.

I let it be for the moment. “If you say so.”

CHAPTER3

Astra

The conversation I dreaded.Had to be done. Three days in, and I needed to know how Tor was coping when the prognosis of his injury looked grim. Lumbar spine fracture with nerve damage and an unknown chance of walking again. Repeated doses of bone healing serum healed the broken vertebrae but were ineffective at regrowing the impaired nerves. The worst possible diagnosis, which tipped him into a depression.

Heart thudding, I clutched the stack of comics tighter to my chest, waiting outside the infirmary door. I summoned a warm smile that felt flat and fake. Shit. He would see right through this. I paused outside his room to compose myself. Remind myself that I needed to see him as much as he needed my support and love during this taxing time. Gift him something to read in the hospital to lift his spirits. Show him I loved him and that he was still mine. Always mine.

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