Chapter 82 Ava: Hospital, Again

Vanessa looks at me with confusion etched on her face. I'd laugh a little, except I'm a little too worried about her calling me by a title I shouldn't have.

"You're… not our Luna?" she asks, in this careful way that makes me think she's been told the exact opposite.

Has Lucas been spreading the word that I'm his Luna? Because that seems a little presumptuous. No, not a little; a lot presumptuous.

It's hard to be too angry when he risked his life to save me, but it's not impossible, so I seethe a little on the inside, shaking my head.

There's a ringing in my ears and an increase in the throbbing ache of my face when I do, so I stop, holding up a hand instead. "No. No, I'm not."

Vanessa's gaze goes from the top of my head, down my body, and eventually to the side of my neck, despite it being covered in bandages. Her brow furrows as she considers my words.

I take the opportunity to study her. She's cute. If she didn't smell like a wolf and I had to choose an animal for her to be able to shift into, I'd choose something tiny and fluffy, like a rabbit. Or a red panda. She has some curves to her and a soft face, with large, doe-like eyes and lashes that are too long to be real.

Despite the lack of make-up on her face, I suspect she at least throws on some false lashes and mascara.

I would, too, if I knew how to do it. Short eyelashes suck.

"But you are Lucas' mate, aren't you?" Her question throws me off. I was too distracted by looking at her face and pondering if there was anything out there that could shift into a red panda.

A lump forms in my throat at the mention of his name. Unable to meet her gaze, I lower my eyes to the light quilt over my legs. It isn't the kind you'd normally find in a hospital. Instead, it's a real blanket that you'd see in someone's home. Between that and the shirt I'm wearing, I have a feeling that I'm getting special privileges due to this misunderstanding.

"Yes, I suppose." I don't sound very confident, because I'm not.

"But?" Vanessa prompts, leaning forward.

This is a conversation I'm probably going to have a lot in this place, so I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the admission that still stings, even after all this time. "He rejected me. Months ago."

voice doesn't waver a single iota is something I'm proud

He rejected me. That's a him problem, not a me problem. Right? Who rejects their fated mate? It's a question I've pondered thousands

just know that he showed up one day with apologies, before disappearing

could wait around for

he did. He

me at the thought. None of this makes sense in my head, and I can't stand it

admission. Before I can dwell on it further, she seems to shake herself

story for another time," she says with a

to the bed, and I brace myself for the inevitable discomfort. My entire body protests

gentle as she peels back the fabric of the oversized shirt, revealing

some pretty severe gashes here," she explains, her fingers lightly tracing the outline of

remember

neck, and shoulders, where I can feel the stinging remnants of bite marks. "These were mostly caused by teeth, it seems. Nasty pieces of work,

voice at the moment. The pain is manageable, but the trauma lingers. Having a flash of those teeth snapping at me, sinking into my neck, my face,

It's a lot.

she continues her assessment. "Unfortunately, there was widespread infection, particularly in the wounds where you were bit. It set in rapidly. You've had a

I blink. "Coded?"

I died?

grimaces. "Yes. Between your blood loss and the rapid infection, your heart rate ceased to exist

is probably rude,

know if I almost

thing that sticks with

she adds helpfully. "Thankfully, we got you stabilized just in time." She winks. "You're welcome. It was some of my

something that must pass muster, because she continues

be back later today and we will be

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