Thirteen

Mourgent let Zelda and Orion lift Zazriel onto the makeshift cot they made and help Ansel and Carlotta carry her home. He didn't like it because he wasn't close, but he knew she didn't want him near. He led the group back home in a steady trot, taking short breaks every few hours to make sure Zazriel was comfortable and safe.

It was late night when they returned three days later. They went straight for Matilda's, who was awake and ready for them. He went into a separate room and shifted and dressed. He went back into the bedroom Zazriel was staying in and stayed in the door, watching his pack mate doing what she loved. He didn't want to get in the way. But he needed to stay close, if not for her, then for himself.

"Mourgent, will you follow me into the kitchen?" Matilda asked, covering Zazriel up and turning.

Mourgent nodded and did as she asked. As they entered her small but clean kitchen, she went hard.

"Orion told me what you told him, but I need to hear it from you. Zazriel is your mate and is suffering because of what has happened with Eva. While she hasn't been part of the pack long, she deserves respect."

Mourgent frowned. "Why does everyone doubt me?"

"Because we all have seen you with Eva, and wonder what is going on."

"Trust me, Matilda, Eva will get what's coming to her."

"When?"

"When Zazriel is strong enough to give it."

Matilda blinked, then gave him a soft smile. "There's my alpha."

Mourgent relaxed. "How long, Matilda?"

"I don't know. But I figured it out not long before you were attacked. She hasn't been herself for a long time, though."

"I know. I knew something was wrong almost immediately, but she wouldn't talk to me."

Matilda gave a sympathetic smile. "Sometimes, Mourgent, you have to force those you love in order to help them. Zazriel is a strong female, but she needs at least one person to go to vent."

Mourgent nodded, knowing this was true. "When I can I see her?"

"Come back in the morning. I will make sure she is eating and bathed by then."

Mourgent smiled. "Thank you, Matilda."

"Don't thank me yet, alpha. You have a long journey ahead of you if this is going to be fixed."

He left a few minutes later after taking one last king look at his beautiful mate in bed.

The next morning, Zazriel was disoriented until she saw Matilda. She ate, bathed and was only a little sore by the time the healer wolf sat down beside her with serious eyes. "Zazriel, Mourgent is coming over soon to talk to you."

Zazriel shrugged, not interested.

"Honey, I need you to listen to him and try to see everything in a different light."

"Who cares?"

Matilda didn't outwardly show her fear and frustration, but felt her heart stop at the careless words. Zazriel was getting worse. "What if I told you I care?"

A tiny reaction from Zazriel was a blink of surprise. Then, "Here is she?"

Matilda now was confused. "Who?"

"Eva."

Matilda swallowed. "I think Mourgent would like to tell you."

Finally, Zazriel looked at her fully. "Stay?"

Matilda nodded. "Of course, Honey."

When Mourgent did arrive, he was happy to see his female having color to her face and her wounds being tended. She still looked like a ghost, but he had hope. "Zazriel?"

Zazriel didn't look at him, but at Matilda, who nodded. Then she turned her eyes to him hesitantly. They were shy and fearful and full of betrayal. But also, he saw need and want. For him. For their relationship to return to the way it was. He saw hope.

"Zazriel, can we talk?" He asked softly.

She nodded.

He slowly found a chair and sat. For a moment, they gazed at each other, both trying to read the other's mind. In the end, he said, "I'm sorry."

She looked away. "Why?"

Her voice was like sandpaper. He winced. "Will you listen to me, and maybe understand my view?"

She swallowed. "I'll try."

He told her what he told Orion. And Zazriel wanted to believe him, wanted to understand his feelings, but her heart was too far broken. It was his last statement that caught her attention. "I will offer you to defend your title and right if you desire it."

That made her look at him, almost remember what they used to be. She saw the promise in his eyes, saw his desire to have her trust again. She saw his concern. She blinked. A piece of her heart clicked into place, polished and new.

"I want to."

Mourgent nodded. "Then it will happen. But for now, rest. Become strong again."

She narrowed her eyes. "Where is she?"

Mourgent gave her a raised brow. "After what I found out, do you still think I would allow her to roam free to drag me under and kill you?"

Her lips twitched. "Where?"

"She's locked up. Three guards watching her. I got a report from Carlotta this morning that Eva was screaming bloody murder all night."

Zazriel nodded. "When can I leave?"

Matilda hesitated. "You should probably stay here for a few days."

Zazriel shook her head. "No. When can I leave the pack?"

Mourgent felt his heart drop. "Zazriel, please-"

"You gave me a month to decide. It's been a month. When can I leave?"

Mourgent felt his control slipping. He didn't know what to do. Matilda said, "Zazriel, didn't you hear a word he said?"

Zazriel sighed and laid back on the bed. "I listened. I heard. I tried to do as you asked. I can't."

Forgetting courtesy, Mourgent strode over, leaned down, and kissed Zazriel hard and long. She went very still beneath him, but then slowly eased into the kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and sat her up, holding her close to him. She moaned, arms about his neck, lips as frantic as his own.

Then, she jolted away, coming to her senses, but he didn't care. Mourgent grabbed one hand and kissed each fingertip, then her palm. His eyes met hers. "Give me another chance, Z. Let me prove to you that I am worthy of you."

She began to tremble. Not with fear, but of need. Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked at the male who both gave her adventure and heartbreak. He was both a blessing and a curse. He was both devil and angel. But which was true? How would she tell between the two?

The kiss added a new piece back to her heart, but it was still far too broken to be truly healed by this small action. But if he is who she had believed before Eva, then maybe in time, she would be happy again.

"I want to believe you," she whispered.

Mourgent cupped her face. "Then let me prove myself."

"But how will I know?"

It was Matilda who answered. "You'll know when you are back to full strength and decide to accept him." They looked at the healer. "And you must accept him, Zazriel. If you don't, this process will only be prolonged and you'll die a painfully slow death."

Zazriel cursed.

She spent all day with Matilda while Mourgent did duties around the pack, occasionally checking in on her. After the kiss and finally agreeing to giving him another chance, he couldn't stop himself from always going back to her. He couldn't stop wanting to see her face, see her beautiful eyes. He knew he was driving Matilda crazy, but he didn't care.

Now, it was around time for dinner and he went back to Zazriel, wanting to be with her, but Carlotta stopped him halfway there. "Alpha, there's a problem," she said, however she couldn't hide the smile that pulled at her lips.

He raised a brow. "What is it?"

She led him to the opposite end of the territory where there was a large crowd gathering. He went around the pack to see what was going on and saw Nyx dive-bombing Eva through the window, going at the female with everything she had. He chuckled. "That bird has more sense than I do," he said to no one in particular.

He left the commotion and went to his mate.

Zazriel was eating quietly when he arrived, lost in her thoughts until she felt lips on hers, to which she jumped. She looked at Mourgent with wide eyes, then away. "What we're you thinking about?" he asked, sitting at the foot of her bed.

She shook her head. "Past."

"What part?"

She blinked away tears that she didn't want him seeing. "The day my mom died."

Mourgent went very still. "May I ask how she died?"

Zazriel couldn't keep the tears hidden now. Her voice cracked as she said, "She was sick. Didn't tell anyone until it was too late." She wiped away her grief and tried to calm down, but her next words made everything worse. "She left my father and me! She left without a goodbye! She didn't give any final words to us about how she loved us or to be strong. She didn't say she'd watch us and protect us. She just died. That's it!"

Mourgent stood and walked closer to sit beside her. "Z, maybe she couldn't?"

She shook her head vigorously. "She could have said anything! She could have said something to let us know she loved us!"

Mourgent bent and lifted her up to hug her. "How do you know? What if it was too much for her? What if she thought you knew that she loved you and didn't think you'd doubt it?"

She pushed him away. "No!"

Mourgent held on, unwilling to let her be alone for this any longer. "It's okay, Zazriel. You're going to be okay."

She shook her head. "No," she whimpered. But she clutched at his shirt with white knuckles. "My father had been killed and told me he loved me as he bled out before me. If he could, then she could."

Mourgent said nothing more, but held her close, listening to her sniffles and sobs. He didn't know Zazriel's family. Had never met them. But if he knew Zazriel, then he was sure that she got all her traits from her parents. That meant both her parents loved her, even if it wasn't spoken aloud.

He wondered though, if this was the reason for her isolation from her pack, for her grieving alone every time someone died. Maybe she thought no one loved her? But he knew that Gatrie loved Zazriel, that Jasmine loves her still. He knew that most of her pack respected her as an alpha and had to have loved her dedication and loyalty to them. So, maybe there was something else…

Ten minutes later, she calmed enough to sit on her own, eyes red and puffy, but her tears used up. Mourgent didn't move though, didn't want her to feel like she had to be alone for everything. He was her mate, and she was his. His only mate. The only one he would ever choose to be with.

Zazriel drank some water, then laid her head back on the pillows. All day, she had been wondering about if Mourgent felt the same as her mother: heartless, resentful, unwanted. What she hadn't told him was that there was only a short time she could remember of being happy with her mom. A short time in which the three of them were a family. Then, things changed. Her mom changed. She didn't know why. She saw no reason why her mom would hate her or her father, but she did. And she died hating them for whatever reason.

She looked down at her useless legs. Is that the reason? Because she was broken? Because she wasn't like everyone else?

Zazriel never had thoughts like these, and she was ashamed of them. Her father raised her to be stronger than a normal wolf. He didn't see her as weak. He didn't see her as broken! So, why was she feeling sorry for herself all of a sudden?

"Zazriel?" She looked up, caught his silvery eyes watching her. "Would you like to go outside?"

She was momentarily startled by his question, having no idea why, but nodded. "Can we go see the children?"

He smiled. "I am going to have Matilda make sure you're dressed while I go get your chair, okay?"

She nodded. He left a moment later, then Matilda bustled in with a bright smile. The healer helped Zazriel use the bathroom and dress in a pair of jeans and blouse, then gave her a brush for her hair. It was fifteen minutes before he returned, wheelchair in front of him, as she finished up.

She saw the chair, but had to do a double take. It was not the chair she had been using since becoming a part of this pack, but the chair she asked for, the one she drew and made specifically for forest terrain. Her breath caught as she took in the thick wheels, the sturdy frame, the soft-looking seat cushion, and the extra-grip cup holder near her legs.

Once again, another piece of her heart clicked into place.

"That's my chair," she whispered in awe. "The one I wanted."

Mourgent smiled. "It is. With a few extra things my pack member added to make your life easier." She gave a small smile. "Want to try it?"

Zazriel nodded.

Mourgent rolled the chair to her and locked the brakes. She expertly transferred from the bed to the chair in a matter of seconds, no help at all. He always wondered about how she did it, always wondered what it took to move from one surface to another.

Backing away, he let her wheel about the room, looking down at her new chair with pleasure. Then he remembered something. "Hold on." He walked around to kneel in front of her and brought out a pair of fingerless gloves. "These are cushioned on the palm so you don't get blisters when you're outside and are pushing yourself. They're also light enough for airflow so your hands don't sweat."

Zazriel took them, putting them on. She had never thought about wearing gloves before, but she liked the thought of not accumulating more blisters. "Can we go out now?" she asked.

Mourgent held out a hand, gesturing her to lead the way.

She did, letting Matilda open the front door, then she put on a burst of speed. It was smooth, like gliding on the uneven forest floor. She barely felt the dips and rises or the sticks and stones. She wheeled all the way to Mourgent's house before she turned around and went back, going as fast as her strength would allow. She felt alive in these moments. More so than in a long time.

When she stopped in front of the alpha himself, she skidded to a halt and breathed deeply. "It's wonderful!"

He nodded, then began walking. She followed, not noticing how uncomfortable he was.