Page 19 of Pack Witch
Her voice was a whisper now. “I told you he needed your help. The tattoos trapped his magic inside him. It’s eating him alive. He’s in agony, day and night. If he didn’t claim you last night, I’m fairly certain he refrained out of honor, to protect you.”
“I wish that was the truth. But I try not to lie to myself, Ida. I don’t have a wolf,” I whispered back, forcing the painful words out. “He… he didn’t want me.”
“You think he won’t mate you, won’t want you, just because your wolf is sleeping?”
I let out a long breath. “Sleeping? She’s almostgone,Ida. What if he tried to claim me, or I tried to claim him, and… nothing happened? Or worse, what if he ended up tied to me, and his wolf suffered even more? It’s for the best.”
She snorted. “That’s a load of bullshit. You’ve never balked at trying to heal a shifter, girl. Not even when they were past hope. You never give up until their last breath, no matter how much it drains you. I’ve seen it a half-dozen times.”
“This is… different,” I finished weakly. This wasn’t just any patient. It was Julian. He was more dangerous than any wounded bear, than any rogue shifter. They could only kill me.
Julian could crush me. He’d done it before.
Ida bristled, her wolf rising in her eyes, making them glow. “You made a vow to me long ago, that you’d try to heal any shifter I brought you, if you could. I need you to heal Julian, Zinnia. He’s my new granddaughter’s only living relative. He’s a true friend of our pack, and the only father figure those two rascals out there have. Heal him.” Her voice had risen now, and I matched her tone.
“Heal him. All right then. How? His wounds are old and deep, and magical?—”
“So is your bond. Do what you need to, and then…” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “Then kiss it better.” She made a couple of movements that suggested using my tongue and possibly my pelvis to achieve the intended result. It was ridiculous.
“Ida!” I slapped a hand over my mouth, but a hysterical giggle still slipped out.
She winked. “A true healer wouldn’t shirk at using whatever medicine was needed.”
“You want me to…” I couldn’t say it out loud; the boys were close enough to hear.
Ida’s eyebrows danced. “You may want to get rid of that dress. I’ll have my grandson Finnick order you some fancy pants from the city. Maybe a sexy nurse outfit. I saw one in a catalog that would make a male rise from the dead.” She finished just as Julian burst through the door, panting. His eyes were wild, his cheeks flushed as he glared at my friend.
“Ida! What in the hell?—”
Ida jumped up and smacked his forehead with one hand, like she was disciplining a naughty pup. “Respect your elders, boy!” His jaw dropped, and I slapped a hand over my mouth to suppress another giggle. She winked at me again. “Right, you’ll stay here with Zinnia. She’s vowed to heal you. I’ll take the boys.”
“No!” I shouted, panicking. I couldn’t be left out here, alone with Julian. “They need to stay.”
“Gotta make renovation!” Bo yelled from outside. “We ain’t leavin’!”
“We’re all stayin’,” Leroy agreed.
Julian blinked at me. I blinked back. The thought of being here with him, touching him, healing him, was as appealing as it was terrifying. I’d thought I would only have him once… Maybe this was a prayer answered. Maybe I was being given a few moremoments of bliss, in exchange for my magic. I just had to make sure to protect myself, my heart, for when he left. Because hewouldleave.
I would be alone again, but at least I would have memories, and my honor. I would fulfill my vow to Ida’s pack to try to heal him.
The door slammed shut, shocking both of us out of the frozen moment. Ida had left, her grumbles fading as she moved swiftly away from the cabin, and then at last, we were left in silence. I moved to the hearth, stoking the fire for something to do other than stare at the male who had shaped my life.
The cabin had always seemed perfectly sized before. Now, it felt like we were both trapped in a shoebox.Come on, Zinnia. You’re a healer. You know what to do.I sighed and turned to face him. “Ida says you’re in constant pain.”
He stared at the floorboards, but his hands were in fists at his sides. “Ida talks too much.”
“Is it true? Tell me.”
After a moment, he lowered himself to the edge of the bed, the one room growing even smaller as it filled with his scent, and his presence. “It’s true.”
I waited, pulling herbs from my boxes on the table and brewing two cups of tea. “Go on, then. I need to know everything.”
“The tattoos have always hurt, but I learned to ignore the pain. The skin is tight along the scars, but it wasn’t until the battle a few years back, when I was shot with silver bullets and cut with more than one silver blade, that the real pain started. It was the kind that I’d felt when Camellia put them on.” He rubbed his hands over the sheet. “On a bad day, anything that touches me on one of the tattoos—clothing, casual touches, even the wind—can feel like razors slicing into me. My magic… it’s pooled just under the surface, but it keeps trying to escape.”
His clothing hurt him? I narrowed my eyes as his fingertips traced the pinker scars that dotted his shoulders, arms, and ribcage. “Those are all from silver?” He nodded. “They’re recent?” Another nod. “Take off your shirt.”
I handed him the cup of tea. He took it and did as I instructed. I moved beside him, opening a jar of salve I’d made and dabbing some on my fingers, but hesitated.
