Koen waits by the door, cross-armed and dark-clouded. He dispassionately informs Sem of my prognosis, commands him to refute it, kill it with fire, salt it, and then simply gazes stoically into the distance as I put my clothes back on.
It was a shared but unspoken decision, him staying for my exam. Maybe he’s afraid I’ll bolt, even though I’m here neither reluctantly nor under duress. Maybe he cannot physically stay away. All I know is that my heart is squeezed into the tightest of fists. It’s obvious what he wants to be told.
Sem glances away from his tablet to give me a warm healthcare-professional smile. “Alpha, I think it would be best if you and I could talk privately.”
“About me?” I sit back in the chair and cock my head. “That has to be a HIPAA violation.”
Sem’s brow furrows. “A what?”
“Just . . .” I shake my head. “Whatever you have to say, you can do so in front of me. I won’t make a scene.”
Sem clears his throat. “May I speak freely?”
“Yes,” I say— just as Koen does. The question, of course, was for him. And not for the rightful owner of the soon- to- be- rotting body.
“Okay. Well.” Sem draws in a steady breath. “Quite frankly, looking at the labs, I am surprised that you’re alive, Serena. Dr. Henshaw’s diagnosis and prognosis seem accurate.”
I knew it, of course, but hearing it still feels like a blade slicing me open. I can’t see Koen’s face from where I sit, but I feel his displeasure beating through me. It’s so intense, I almost consider going to him and . . . and what? Patting his back? Giving him a hug? I’m being ridiculous.
“What if this is just the way hybrids are?” Koen asks. “We have no basis for comparison.”
“Theoretically, that could be true. But her body is in obvious distress. Weight loss, nutrient deficiencies. Metabolic and cardiac stress. I wonder how she functions.”
“Not compatible with life,” I say under my breath. Sem’s frown deepens, but it’s a fascinating turn of phrase— I found it so from the very start. And I earned it. I have a right to use it, don’t I?
“What about drugs?” Koen asks, impatient.
“Dr. Henshaw was very thorough in his attempts to ease Serena’s discomfort,” Sem says softly.
In English. Although one wouldn’t be able to tell from Koen’s uncomprehending face. He steps closer and wraps a hand around my shoulders. “She’s in pain. Not eating enough. Not getting enough sleep. The fucking fevers are happening every night.”
“I can give her IVs and recommend easily digestible foods, but the cold baths are the safest way to— ”
“She’s in pain,” Koen snarls, leaning forward over Sem’s desk.
I expect the doctor to retreat or show his throat to appease his Alpha’s anger. Instead, his eyes turn hooded with sadness. “I know, Koen. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry— that’s not your job. Your fucking job is to cure ill people. Why do you have no idea how to do that?”
“Koen,” I chide, feeling my chest constrict. I wrap a hand around his forearm. The long veins running through it are coursing with blood. “That’s not kind.”
“As we established, I’m not fucking kind.” He straightens. “Find a way to get this”— he gestures toward me— “fixed. Okay?”
Sem nods, full of sorrow.
As we exit the building, Koen halts briefly. His throat works as he looks into the distance, tight-lipped, running his tongue over his teeth. Composing himself.
I bite into the inside of my cheek, feeling powerless. I’m sorry, I want to say. I know you care. I know it’s hard. But he’s unreachable— a large, silent presence at my side as we walk to the car, his legs so much longer than mine, I have to break into a light jog to keep up with him. “Will you slow down?”
“No.” He nods at a group of pack members who wave at him. Speeds up even more.
“Hear me out for a second.”
“I am.”
“You are not— ”
“I can walk and listen at the same time.” He stares straight ahead. “Must be one of those elusive Alpha traits.”
“Please, can you just— ” I round him and block his path. When he tries to walk past me, I close my hand around the hem of his flannel. “I know how you are feeling.”
At last, his eyes meet mine. They do not look pleased. “You mean, angry as fuck?”
“No.” I stop another attempted sidestep. “Well, yes. But that’s not the real issue, and— I know it takes some adjustment, learning that someone you lo— care about is going to die.” I swallow. My smile is tremulous. “I’ve been there.”
Koen’s jaw shifts. Clenches and releases. I’m afraid he’ll try to leave again, and maybe, just for good measure, run me over as he pulls out of the parking lot. Instead, he says, “This is why you didn’t want to stay at my cabin.”
I hesitate. “I . . . It’s safer, I think. I can’t control myself. What if I harmed someone in the pack? What if I harmed you?” His look is full of pity, like I’m an ant trying to stuff a full-size anvil in her cute pink backpack. “Oh, fuck off. It’s very sexist of you to assume that I couldn’t beat you up.”
“There’s a long list of women capable of kicking my ass. In your current state, you are nowhere on it.”
“What if I accidentally attacked a weaker pack member?”
“Guess I’d have to spank you.” He seems unbothered by the prospect. “I’m more concerned about you sleepwalking off a cliff. But don’t worry, I’ll be making sure that doesn’t happen.” His smile feels like a threat. I’m proud of myself for not flinching.
He tries to move past me again, and this time I take his hand. “I know you want to be mad at fate— ”
“I’m mad at you, killer.”
“— but I’m at peace with it. I wish I had more time. With . . . with the people I love. With the universe. With”— I gesticulate around me— “with the ocean and the trees and . . . I love this territory so much. But it’s such a privilege, to know that even if I won’t live much longer, Misery is taken care of, and so is Ana.” It’s the first time I’ve verbalized this out loud. And it makes my chest feel at once light as a feather and deep as a crater. “When I die— ”
“Not on my fucking watch, Serena.”
“Okay. But when I die— ”
Koen’s fingers abruptly slide into the hair at the side of my head. Bend my neck back, none too gently. “Serena.” He stares down at me, eyes a few inches from mine. His fury is a physical, formidable thing. It doesn’t scare me. “If you say anything like that ever again, I’m going to kill you myself. Understood?”
It likely speaks of how much my sanity has devolved that I exhale a laugh. “Got it.”
He grunts, a fraction mellower. I wonder if he really thinks that he can will my illness into nonexistence. Maybe someone who’s been Alpha for two decades is too accustomed to power to entertain the idea of something not going his way? But slowly, eventually, he lets go of me, and I take a step back, nearly walking into the parked car. I let the sleeves of his hoodie swallow my hands, and God, that shopping trip was so unnecessary.
“The thing is,” I try to explain, “it might be for the best.”
The way he looks at me is so indignant, it makes me chuckle again. Which is not appropriate for the conversation.
“I mean, it’s not like you and I could . . . You have the covenant. And I’m not exactly available for a long-term relationship.” My smile feels a little forced. I hope it’ll work on him anyway. “The reasons why it couldn’t work between us are not just yours, or just mine. None of that one-way unrequited crap. Isn’t that better?”