Chapter 53

It was well after midnight when the Pack House corridors lit up with alarm. I had dozed off in Richard’s empty room, wrapped in one of his blankets just to feel safe, when shouting jolted me.

I ran into the hall barefoot, my hair a mess, and collided with Nathan who was covered in blood that wasn't his. He had Richard draped over his shoulder, limp, pale, bleeding from his side. I felt everything in me go cold. "Move!" Nathan bellowed, and I scrambled aside as they carried him to the makeshift medical area. Simon was already there barking orders at two junior medics, snapping on gloves, cursing at the amount of blood.

I froze in the doorway for a second, feeling my vision narrow. Richard was laid on a table, eyes half-lidded, breath wet and shallow. Nathan was screaming at a guard to get more bandages.

Simon yelled my name. "Amelia! Snap out of it! Over here! He needs you talking to him. NOW!"

I stumbled forward and grabbed Richard’s limp hand. It was cold, sticky.

"Hey. HEY! Richard, open your eyes!"

He groaned weakly, head rolling toward my voice. "Amelia... stay... don't... leave..."

"I'm not leaving! Look at me. Richard!" Simon was packing gauze into a gaping wound. Blood was everywhere. Nathan was on the comms trying to get reinforcements sent for the rogue Pack border. A medic pressed a compress into my free hand. "Hold here! PRESS!" I obeyed, my fingers going slick with his blood. He whimpered and tried to turn away, but I held him down. "Focus on me! You hear me? You're not dying on me, Richard! Not now."

He gurgled something that sounded like my name. I bent close, forehead almost touching his. "Please. You said you wouldn't die out there. You PROMISED me."

Simon’s voice cut in, angry. "Amelia! You have to hold him here. Don’t let him slip under. Tell him ANYTHING."

My vision blurred. I squeezed his hand so hard my own knuckles turned white. "You're such an asshole. You can't just leave me here with these idiots. Who else is going to yell at the council when they insult me? Who's going to tell me I'm being reckless? You can't leave. You hear me?"

Richard's fingers twitched, gripping mine back. His breathing hitched. "Stay..."

"I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Don’t you dare."

Hours blurred into minutes. I didn't know what time it was. At some point Simon forced me to drink water while they stitched him up. My hands were sticky and raw. Nathan sat at the door, covered in blood, refusing to talk to anyone. The guards outside kept looking in with wide eyes. The Pack House was deadly silent except for Richard’s labored breathing.

Eventually, they got the bleeding under control. He was unconscious but stable. Simon slumped back in a chair, looking ten years older. He wiped his face with a rag and gave me a dead-eyed stare. "You need to rest."

I shook my head wildly. "No. If he wakes up and I'm not here—"

Simon’s voice cracked. "He knows you're here. He knows you’re not leaving. But if you collapse, I have to waste time treating you too. Don’t be stupid."

I looked at Richard’s pale, bandaged form. I swallowed. "I’ll sit here. That’s all. Just let me sit."

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose but didn’t argue. "Fine. But lean back at least. Try to close your eyes."

I didn’t. I watched Richard all night. When his breathing hitched or he moaned, I was there instantly, touching his face, murmuring. At one point, near dawn, his eyes flickered. He mumbled my name, voice so rough it hurt to hear. "Amelia?"

I grabbed his hand. "I'm here. I'm right here. Don’t you dare scare me like that again."

He shuddered. "Good. Stay."

I blinked tears away. "Not going anywhere."

Simon eventually put a blanket over my shoulders without asking. Nathan fell asleep sitting up by the door, one hand still on his weapon. It was morning before Simon finally pulled me aside, voice quiet but firm. "You know what he's going to ask me, right?"

I didn’t want to look at him. "What."

"To recommend you sleep in his room again. To help him recover."

My face burned. "Simon—"

He cut me off. "Listen, half the staff already thinks you’re running the Pack from his bed. And now you’re the only one he wouldn’t let go of while bleeding out."

I felt nausea twist in my gut. "I don’t care what they think."

Simon let out a tired, humorless laugh. "You should. Because people with that much influence are dangerous. And when they think you have it, they'll come for you."

I shook my head. "So what? You’re going to deny the request? To not let me help him again? Like I'm some—"

Simon’s face softened, reluctantly. "No. I’m going to recommend it if he asks. But I need to make sure that's what you want, Amelia."

Simon looked at me carefully.

"You know he's going to want you there because it helps him, and because of whatever else. But I want you to think about you for once. This has been bad for you, Amelia. Look at you, you're fragile, emotionally exhausted."

My mouth went dry. I couldn't answer.

Simon sighed. "But he's also lying there in critical condition. Your presence is helping him. He won't admit it, but he needs you. I just want you to think about what you need. What's actually good for you. Not just what's good for him."

I wanted to cry again but my eyes were dry. "He needs me."

Simon sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Yeah. He does. And you need him too. Just don’t make me watch it."

I let out a broken laugh. "Deal."

Simon didn't laugh back. He sighed. "Amelia, he's watched you get hurt over and over again. The council humiliating you. Jenny's games. Those rumors that spread every time you sleep in his room. He knows it's been awful for you and he keeps letting it happen. He might think he's protecting you but half the time he's making it worse."

He continued, low and intense. "He keeps letting them talk to you like that. He lets them insult you in council. He lets Jenny poison everything. And you just take it. It pisses me off, Amelia. I see you crying in the hallways. I see you lying awake because of him. It's not fair. You don't deserve this."

I swallowed. "He doesn't mean to."

Simon frowned. "No. But you can't just keep letting it destroy you. You're already so worn down. I see it. You're fragile, even if you hate the word. And he sees it too. He hates seeing you this way. This would all be so much easier if..."

He trailed off, eyes hard. "If you wanted something else. Someone else."

My heart twisted. "Simon. Don't."

He looked away. "I can't tell you what to want. But you need to think about it. Because if you stay in his room again, it's going to happen all over. The rumors. The looks. Him trying to save you and screwing it up. You need to decide if you're okay with that."