Chapter 127

Knowing werewolf hearing as I do now, I am positive if I scream bloody murder, all of the house will rush to me. It’s the middle of the night, I don’t want to scare Mia. But I’m scared. Neil looks like he’s about to die.

I settle for a medium, and I scream, “Archer! Beau!! Steven!!”

Neil and I wait for only a handful of seconds before a thunder of running footsteps echoes louder, toward us.

Archer arrives first. He’s in such good shape, he’s not even panting. He quickly takes in the sight around us, then kneels beside me to take in Neil’s wound. He curses under his breath.

Beau arrives next. He’s heaving a bit more, though his excessive cardio exercise seems to have gifted him very good stamina. When he sees Neil’s wound, he snaps, “You selfless fool.”

Steven comes in last. He’s out of breath. He’s holding a baby monitor. It is blessedly quiet. Sight of the wound immediately snags his attention and he steps closer to inspect it. The others let him.

“He collapsed,” I explain. “He’s in so much pain.”

“And it will only get worse,” Steven says.

“Don’t be crass,” Beau says, and that’s rich, coming from him. But this time, I’m inclined to agree. There’s no time for correction though, not with Neil’s life potentially on the line.

“You know what’s wrong?” I ask

Steven nods critically. “It’s silver poisoning.”

The boys gasp. I do too.

Silver is poisonous to werewolves, but only if it enters the bloodstream. Part of my research into warrior training was understanding that silver weapons would be utilized by our potential enemies. But even being stabbed with a silver blade shouldn’t look like this…

“How deeply did he bury it?” Steven asks.

Neil gives him an unreadable look.

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

“The asshole really did it this time,” Archer growls.

“Don’t. Call. Him. That,” Neil says, strained.

“What do you want me to call him? Father?” Archer snaps.

Neil nods.

“The asshole lost that right long ago.”

“Don’t fight,” Beau says. “Neil needs his strength.”

I ignore all of them, and ask Steven. “What do you mean, how deeply did he bury it?”

Steven looks back at me. Curiosity and concern battle on his face. “For the wound to fester like this, the silver has to still be in there.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Archer growls.

Beau adds a few more colorful curses.

“Neil…” I say, heart heavy.

How much pain he must be in. Silver is pulsing through his entire system and has been for days. No wonder the wound isn’t healing. The healing factor doesn’t work on such a poison.

Neil’s hand is still on my thigh. I place my hand over his and squeeze, showing him my support.

Inside, behind the fear, I’m furious as hell. At his father, for doing this. At Neil, for covering it up. But all of those feelings can wait. What matters right now is fixing this.

“We’re going to the hospital,” I say, taking charge. “Archer, get the car.”

Archer stands.

“No,” Neil says. He might be using his Alpha voice, but I can’t feel it. He’s too weak.

Archer still stops, maybe on reflex. Maybe, out of respect for his eldest brother.

Meanwhile, the fury within me is winning over the fear. “What do you mean, ‘no?’” I say, voice sharp with anger and disbelief.

He’s in so much pain that he can’t even talk or breathe or stand up straight, but he refuses to go to the hospital.

“Do you need me to drag you? I will, so help me.” I’m fired up, ready to fight. My adrenaline is on such a high, I might actually be able to carry Neil if none of the burly guys around me will help.

“No,” Neil says again, and his voice is a bit stronger now. “This is my rightful punishment.”

Archer, Beau, and Steven all look away. Fucking cowards. They won’t stand up to their brother? To their father?

They’d let someone do something like this to a person that they care about? A brother?

“Bullshit,” I snap. “Nothing you’ve ever done is worth this. Neil, this is torture.”

Neil holds my gaze. Slowly, his breathing is going back to normal. The wound is no less angry and red, but for whatever reason, the pain seems to have ebbed for now.

I’m relieved. Still angry as hell, but relieved.

“I know its torture,” Neil says. “But I’m telling you I deserve it.”

“No.” He would never be able to convince me. It doesn’t matter what he might say.

He must have seen that, because he stops trying. Instead, he sits back on his heels, then slowly pushes himself up to his feet. The rest of us follow his lead.

I reach out to touch his arm. He’d never be able to convince me, but maybe I could convince him. If he’s not used to compassion, then maybe that would do the trick.

I place my hand to the skin of his wrist. He flinches.

“Neil…”

“Don’t fucking touch me, Chloe,” he says, in a sharp growl.

I snap my hand back like he’s burned me.

“Don’t be an ass, Neil,” Beau says.

Neil turns from us he walks to the door. He stops there, in the doorway. “Sorry,” he says, then disappears down the hallway.

I stare after him, even when I can’t see him anymore, confused about what just happened. And what happens now.

I look around, but no one’s saying anything.

“He has to go the hospital,” I say.

Archer and Beau look at each other.

“I’m going back to my lab,” Steven says, and disappears next.

I turn to the final two left. “We need to be more worried about this.”

“We are worried,” Archer says. “But you won’t change Neil’s mind once it’s set.”

“So we just let him suffer?” I ask. Maybe it’s cruel. Archer’s face twists into a bitter anger.

“We respect his wishes.”

I want to argue. If Neil won’t fight me, then maybe I can fight Archer instead. I have too much nervous energy, too much adrenaline, too many nerves. I can’t just stay here. I’ll go crazy trapped inside my own head.

“But –” I start.

“Come with me, Nanny,” Beau says and snatches my hand. “Let’s go for another ride.”

I blink, surprised by the suggestion. It’s nearly morning by now, surely. But Beau seems as wide awake as me. Maybe he needs the out too.

If they are truly as worried as me, and they must be – perhaps even more so – then they feel the same nervous energy. The same need for release.

Beau will find it on the back of his motorcycle.

Archer might find it with fighting. I could fight too. But we might say hurtful things we can’t take back.

Going with Beau is safer. And I wouldn’t mind another ride.

“Okay,” I say, and let Beau lead me.

As we near the door, Archer’s voice stops Beau, and me behind him.

“Be careful, Beau.”

Beau glances back. He waggles his eyebrows. “I always have protection.”

I groan at the poor timing of such a poor joke. But Beau’s laugh and Archer’s groan both lighten the mood.

Still, I wonder. I doubt Archer cares how carefully Beau drives his motorcycle.

Archer must have meant something else.