9. Hallucinations

I woke groggily, the way I normally did the morning after a fight. Weary, mouth dry, skin covered in sweat from the exertion of healing. All my senses were a low hum, shoved into the background while my system focused on mending itself. They came back to me the way a pump sometimes turned on, a dry sputter at first, then a slow trickle before the water comes gushing out. The lights from the ceiling were first, then the irritated sound of a female voice.
"I'm telling you, she needs more time to rest properly. She's healed at an alarmingly fast rate for a werewolf, but all the trauma from tonight has me worried about her mental state..."
I tuned out the voice, throwing the suffocating thick blanket off me and sitting up with a groan. My muscles protested against the movement, unusual. I guess silver bullet injuries were more long term as opposed to a couple of broken bone.
I glanced around, noticed the sky beyond the windows was still pitch black. I wiped the sweat off my brow with my wrist. I was in the pack's infirmary. Meaning I was in Kane's house.
Sterile and neat, there were two rows of five beds on parallel sides of the room, only one of them occupied aside from the one I was in. The other occupant was unidentifiable, wrapped in a thick bundle of blankets but the two people standing in the infirmary's doorway were easily identifiable.
Kane was staring down at Bluebell Perez, the short doctor who was waving her hands frantically and talking at lightning speed. She was the one I heard talking earlier.
"You never listen to me," she finished, planting her hands on her hips with a huff.
"I do," Kane said. He reached over her head, lifted her beneath her armpits and raised her like a child. "Just not today."
She squeaked, eyes wide as saucers as Kane stepped inside, set her down where he had previously been in the hallway and shut the door in her face. Later, the sound of her stomping footsteps echoed beyond the door.
Cautiously, I got out of the bed, noticing my white sneakers on the floor beside the bed. I picked them up.
"Get out."
I jolted. But it wasn't me Kane was glaring out. The bundle of blankets on the bed. Darius's head popped up, lids lowered drowsily in what was obviously a fake semblance of someone who had been sleeping.
He cleared his throat. "Well, what a coincidence. What are you two doing here?" He asked.
Kane jerked his head to the side. "Out."
"Spoilsport," Darius grumbled, swinging his legs off the bed and stalking out. He slammed the door behind him.
Silence engulfed the room.
He must be livid, I thought. I'd broken a pack rule, dragged everyone into a fight with a troll that resulted in who knows how many injuries-
"Bullets," Kane stated.
"What?" I asked.
He threw a bed across the room- bedframe, mattress and all. It crashed into another one with a bam, the wood creaking as one side collapsed.
"You went on the bridge knowing fully well it was forbidden," he said, voice too quiet for a man who just flipped an entire bed. "Threw yourself in front of mercenaries firing silver bullets. What is wrong with you?"
I didn't answer, couldn't find any words. He took a step closer, I took one back, saw the way he tilted his head and refrained from another one. Or bolting from the room. I pressed my lips together and cast my gaze downwards as he advanced, each footstep painfully loud.
He pulled me against him.
My eyes flew upwards, looked up at him and what I saw there had my eyes even wider than Bluebell's had been.
For as long as I could remember, Kane has always worn either a passive, cold expression or a frigid glare. I've never seen any other emotion- not even in the Facebook pictures Helen posted(I sort of stalk her account for pictures of Kane when I'm bored. It was also a habit I was still working on stopping). The point was, Kane never, ever, displayed emotions like a normal person. So I couldn't possibly be seeing what I was seeing.
His eyebrows were raised, not in the usual imperious way but delicately, placating. The creases in his forehead had smoothed out, his blue eyes gentle.
A single thought flashed in my head: Who the heck is this?
"You won't do it again, will you?" He asked softly, leaning closer.
"No. No, I won't," I replied absently, ready to jump out a window if he asked.
Slowly, his lips curved into a smile. "Thank you."
I think my heart just melted.
He stepped away, good thing too, another second and I think I was going to faint.
He sighed and the stoic look was back in place. "I called Fiona, she's at the hospital Jett took your friend to. Her son has been stabilized and you can visit him afterwards. Right now I need you in the library, we're having a meeting."
Fiona. That brought me back to reality. Fiona was Ian's mother. If she was with him, then that meant things would be okay. It also meant me going there might be hazardous for my well-being. Well, I took a few bullets, I could probably take a couple of fireballs too...
"Wait," I said. "We're having a meeting? About what?"
Kane was already at the door when I spoke but stopped to glance back at me.
"Come find out," he said.
He left, leaving me wondering the second time this night if I was starting to see and hear things that weren't real.