Page 101 of Rocky Top

But for now?

We had each other.

Behind us, the sound of motorcycles roared as Knox and the others arrived, too late for the worst of it but just in time to see the aftermath.

Smokey kicked Brent’s limp body, and Chevy grabbed him by the collar.

“You’re done,” Smokey snarled.

Knox swept in, eyes goin’ to Emma first, then Birdie, then me. “What the hell happened?”

I looked down at the blood on Birdie’s hands. On mine.

“Blood feud,” I said. “And we won.”

I barely remembered gettin’ out of those woods. Everything after I was shot, blurred into sirens and Birdie’s ragged breath in my ear as I held her tight to me in the back of Knox’s truck. She was shakin’. Covered in dirt and blood, some of it hers, most of it mine, and her eyes were glazed over like she was half here, half somewhere deep inside herself.

Emma was cradled in Eliza’s arms up front, sobbin’ against her mama’s chest, her little hands clingin’ to her like a lifeline. Knox drove like the devil was chasin’ us, and for once, I was grateful he didn’t say a damn word.

Luckily, shifters always have some fresh clothes on them. So, Birdie and I weren’t naked for long. But my side was soakedthrough with blood. That bullet stuck in me had gone deep. Every bump on the road was hellfire, but I didn’t let go of Birdie. She was curled up in my lap, her face pressed to my neck, whisperin’ the same words over and over again like a prayer.

“I didn’t mean to shift… I didn’t mean to shift…”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her there was no takin’ it back. That the wolf had come, and she’d felt it. That whatever line she’d been tryin’ to toe, between her old life and the world I’d dragged her into, was gone now.

“You did what you had to, sunshine,” I murmured, my voice thick. “You saved her. You saved me.”

Her hands clutched at my shirt, fingers diggin’ into the cotton like it could anchor her to somethin’ real.

The moment we rolled up to the ER, the club was already there. Chevy had beat us there on his bike, and the moment he saw me, he started shoutin’ for a gurney. I tried to walk, but my knees gave out halfway through the doors. They caught me, got me on a stretcher. Birdie tried to follow, but a nurse blocked her.

“He needs help now, ma’am.”

She stood frozen, hands covered in blood, tears streamin’ down her face. “I’m with him. Please—”

“I got her,” Eliza said, scoopin’ Birdie into a tight embrace. “Go, Rocky. We’ll beright here.”

I let go.

They patched me up quick, stitches, fluids, pain meds I didn't want but damn sure needed. I don’t remember passin’ out, but when I came to, I was in a sterile hospital bed with white sheets and a monitor beeping slow and steady beside me.

It was dark outside. Late. My side burned like hell, but I could move.

And she was there.

Birdie was asleep in the chair beside me, knees pulled up to her chest, her head restin’ against the rail of the bed like she couldn’t bear to be far. She’d cleaned up, face washed, clothes changed, but I could still see the remnants of the fight in the way her shoulders hunched and her jaw stayed tight even in sleep.

I reached for her hand.

She stirred, blinked those green eyes at me, and the second they landed on mine, she sat up fast. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Still kickin’.”

Her hand went to her mouth like she was tryin’ to hold in the sob. “They said you lost a lot of blood. That if you hadn’t been a shifter…”

“But I am,” I cut her off gently. “And I’m here.”

She stood then, and before I could blink, she was crawlin’ into the bed beside me, careful of my stitches. Her arms wrapped around my neck and she clung like she was afraid I might vanish again.

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