Chapter 61: Grace: Transference (I)

My body feels like it’s been used as a car crash dummy. Voices filter through the cotton stuffed between my ears, muffled and distant at first, then gradually sharpening into familiar tones. Angry tones.

"Absolutely not. Stay ten feet away at all times." Lyre.

An unmistakably familiar growl. "You aren’t in charge here."

"No, but they are, and you’re sucking her dry every time you make contact. Keep your damn mutt off her, too."

A snarl. Definitely Fenris.

"Stop looking at me like that. You’re a mutt without manners."

Consciousness hovers just out of reach, and honestly, slipping back into oblivion seems like the smart option. Nothing good waits in a room where Lyre and the Lycan King are squaring off. Death wish, party of one.

"Her energy is finally stabilizing, and you two want to go right in and take what she’s gathered—"

"If touching hurts, why are you letting them touch her?"

"They’re not feeding off her like she’s an all-you-can-eat buffet."

Oh. This sounds... not great.

A cool touch slides along my inner arm, followed by a sharp sting. Something tugs at my skin, and the sensation drags me closer to full awareness. Not Lyre’s touch—someone else’s. Cold and strange-feeling.

"BP is 90/60. Heart rate stable at 64." An unfamiliar voice, clipped and professional. "Okay, the IV’s in."

"All right. Let’s push some fluids." Another stranger.

Kind of sounds like I’m in a hospital.

"Let’s get ready to move her."

"You’re not taking her," Caine snaps.

Okay, maybe not a hospital. Oh. They probably called an ambulance. Now it makes sense.

"They can if they need to," Lyre argues.

Fenris whines.

My eyes flutter.

"She moved," Caine says immediately, tension vibrating through his voice. "Grace?"

Play dead, I tell myself. Just five more minutes of unconsciousness before facing whatever catastrophe awaits.

my eyelids burns red through the thin membrane, and someone’s fumbling with my arm again, and everything feels wrong and strange

a groan.

I croak,

closer now. I might not be able to see, but I can

a very looming kind

weird after using it twice in a row. Even worse

lights," Lyre offers, sounding

It’s strange, like... Like someone’s turned on a faucet, and something inside of me is

Something beeps. A lot.

touching her,

was just

need to

A growl.

wish comes true, and unconsciousness takes

* * *

creeps back

when lights don’t stab into my eyeballs this time. There’s a faint amber glow

I’m

turn my head, the left side of my neck protesting, stiff from however long I’ve been laying here

and wild. Her cat-slit eyes look exhausted, with dark circles underneath. She tilts her head,

voice sounds like I’ve been gargling gravel.

voice carries its

glass shards. I cough and try again, grimacing through the pain. "Like someone ran

you’re clean, then." She reaches for something out of

try to push myself up. My arms tremble with

behind my shoulders, supporting me with surprising strength. Her touch is cool against

salvation. I hadn’t realized how parched I was

ask, but Lyre cuts me off with a finger to her

Can’t be within one hundred feet of the building, so he’s across the street, probably glaring

I blink.

shrugs. "He

I believe her, but...

standard hospital room—no clinical white walls or plastic chairs. Instead, the space is warm, with natural wood accents and what looks like hand-woven fabric

"Where am I?"

You’re in the special ward upstairs." Lyre’s

blink again.

"Yeah, but he isn’t."

dizzy even from that movement. "What

scratches at her cheek. "You know what? I’m going

"You can’t just drop that

the movement almost too casual. "Let’s just say your boyfriend threw his

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