Lucas enters like a tornado, the doors slamming a gale-force breeze into my room.
His hair is a ss, his amber eyes focused on as he looks over, categorizing every detail of my appearance. Of the IV in my arm—again, the hospital gown, the bed. All of it.
I must pass muster, because about halfway through the room, his steps slow and his shoulders relax. "Ava."
"Lucas."
I hold my hands out when it's clear he isn't sure how to greet , after our last parting.
He gives Selene a dark stare before sitting next to my legs and grabbing my hands, leaning forward to kiss my forehead. "Are you okay?"
It's funny—aside from feeling upset with myself and worried over Lisa, I hadn't processed any other emotions about the invasion.
Now, with him here, tears fill my eyes and my shoulders shake as I rember the fear. How I was positive I'd die by vampire. How gutted I feel with Lisa gone.
The death of Teddy.
Of Bren.
The entire experience of the party.
All of it.
Without any warning whatsoever, I burst into ugly tears, and Lucas gathers close, holding against his chest with soft murmurs and reassurances that I don't really hear.
Cry it out, Selene says in a gentle caress of my mind. I can feel her slipping away, probably to curl up on the couch now that Lucas is here.
I'm not entirely certain what makes cry more. I'm not even sure if it's just today, or if it's all the years before today that's bringing to tears.
It's everything and nothing in particular, every wound my soul has borne.
It's agony and relief, endurance and exhaustion.
I cry.
And cry.
And cry.
Through it all, Lucas rocks against him, whispering soft nothings in my ear and running his hands over my hair, assuring he'll do everything in his power to find Lisa.
He tells how sorry he is, how he should have kept safer.
How it's his fault for being gone, for allowing such a tragedy to happen.
None of this is his fault to bear.
Even so, he takes it on.
When I'm spent, my eyes are swollen and ache with every blink. My head pounds with the furious rhythm of dehydration. My throat is shredded from—and I cringe to rember this—my wails, as if I were a grief-stricken heroine on so sappy television drama Selene likes to watch.
A nurse ca in at so point and hooked up a bag of fluids at Lucas' quiet request.
"Are you better now?" Lucas asks after a long period of silence as I rest against him.
My head nods against his shoulder, but otherwise, I don't move. I'm limp against him, too worn out to even pretend at dignity.
His lips brush against my forehead and I sigh, cuddling a little closer. "I want to help you find Lisa."
His entire body tenses beneath , but he relaxes after a mont, still stroking my hair gently. "If Jericho thinks you're ready, I will allow it."
He's not saying no outright or arguing with , and that lifts my heart. "Thank you."
"I won't put you into danger unless you're ready, Ava. But I won't stop you if you can handle it."
But you need to be ready, Selene interjects.
Nodding against his chest, I murmur, "I get it. Thank you." I know, I tell Selene somberly.
I won't risk Lisa's life just to make myself feel better.
I'll be ready.
Even if it ans I have to endure more training to get the permission I need. I'll do it. I'll do anything, if it ans I can bring Lisa ho.
God, I have no idea what I'm going to tell her parents.
Lucas sighs, the sound heavy and forlorn against my hair. We sit like this for a while, his cheek resting on the top of my head, his arms a comforting cage around my exhausted body.
The silence stretches, but it's not uncomfortable. It's a mont of respite. A pause in this tragedy.
Eventually, he speaks, his voice a low murmur that rumbles through his chest and into my bones. "The death toll is fifteen, with twenty more in the hospital."
Fifteen lives lost. Twenty more hanging in the balance. My heart clenches, a fresh wave of sorrow crashing over . Those numbers represent packmates, friends, family. People who were laughing and dancing re hours ago, now gone or fighting for their lives.
"Multiple wolves have been sent ho safely," he continues, his tone asured but strained. "Only two vampire bodies have been recovered."
A shiver runs through at the grim report, at the implications of those numbers. So much destruction, so much pain inflicted, and for what? What did the vampires hope to gain from this attack?
I tilt my head back, eting Lucas' amber eyes. They're shadowed with worry and sothing else, sothing darker that I can't quite na. "What cos next?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking beneath the stubble-covered skin. There's a darkness in his face I've never seen before, sothing that sends a chill through my bones. "We find them," he says, the grim finality in his words a vow. "We find the ones responsible and erase every existence from this world."
There's a steel in his voice, an unwavering determination that both comforts and terrifies .
As if sensing my spiraling thoughts, Lucas presses a kiss to my forehead, his lips a brand of comfort against my skin. "Don't lose hope," he murmurs, his breath warm against my hairline. "We're stronger together, rember that."
I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat.
"What do you need to do?" I ask, my voice steadier now, fueled by a growing determination.
Lucas pulls back slightly, his gaze searching mine. "Rest," he says, his tone gentle but firm. "Heal until Jericho gives the all-clear."
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