A Wolf's Embrace (Wolf Mountain Peak Book 4)

by Sarah J. Stone

  “I don't want to,” she cried, and he sighed. She may be twelve now, but she sounded as young as when they first met her. “Please.”

  “We'll see what Tara advises,” he said. She knew better than to her argue with him for an extended period of time, and so she threw back the covers, slowly throwing her legs over the side of the bed. She took his hand, pressing on it to help herself up. He thought she would be fine, despite her hand shaking. Her eyes were alert, and her teeth gritted as she focused on the simple task of getting out of bed.

  He felt the shift in magic before he saw her falter. Her life force flickered, and then for one horrifying moment, dissipated as she fell into his arms.

  It came back almost right away, but it scared him as she went limp. Sienna fainted often, but this was much different.

  He put his foot up on the bed to hoist her into his arms, his heart pounding. She was so light, and he cursed himself, wondering if there was something he had missed – something crucial in the last few days. What had she eaten? Was she not drinking? Was there a virus going around? Why did she weigh so little?

  ‘What's happening?’ Nathaniel's thoughts shot through his brain loud and clear. Their bond was strongest in moments of urgency.

  ‘Med bay,’ Desmond managed to shoot back, clumsily opening the door. He was grateful for choosing new rooms last year that were not far from the med bay, precisely for this very reason.

  “Help!” he bellowed as he made it through the sliding glass doors. His calm demeanor was gone as he almost tripped. She still wasn't waking up.

  The next few moments were a flurry of activity as the medics rushed forward. They babbled to each other, taking her limp body as a stretcher became available. There was magic, tubes, and wires being prepared for her. An oxygen mask went over her face. Tara, the head medic, came rushing in, placing her hands on Sienna's face.

  “Creator,” she swore, turning to look at Desmond. “How long has she been like this?”

  “At least the night,” Desmond replied, trying to step forward. Tara half growled at him.

  “I can fix this. But we're looking at days of treatment, and you're not going to like most of it.”

  “Treat her immediate needs,” Desmond said. “When Nathaniel arrives, we will discuss the long term.”

  “Of course.” Tara rolled her eyes. “The two of you are going to kill her, you know that?”

  “Excuse me?” Nathaniel made it through the doors, and he did not look happy. He could see that Sienna was in caring hands with the nurses, and her chest was rising and falling. His rage at the statement was directed at Tara. “When exactly did you become qualified to tell me what was best for my Tiro, Tara?”

  “When?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “When I became a medic and you two started subscribing to weird, alternative therapies.”

  “Enough,” Desmond snapped. “Treat her, and we will discuss this later.”

  That was enough to snap Tara into action. “Stay there,” she said as she pointed to the waiting room chairs. “I'll call you.”

  And then she was gone, disappearing through the white curtains.

  Desmond sank into a chair, rubbing his face with a tired sigh. He felt Nathaniel sit beside him and turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Another day in these chairs,” he said. “Same old, same old.”

  “What happened?” Nathaniel asked, concerned.

  “She just flickered out,” Desmond said, at last. “I was taking her here anyway, but I think the effort of it was too much. She'll be all right. I can already feel her getting stronger. But Nathaniel…for one moment, I felt nothing. No life force.”

  “Creator,” Nathaniel swore, leaning back. “That's never happened before.”

  “No,” Desmond agreed. “Something new has happened. I don't know what it is, but I'm sure Tara will get to the bottom of it.”

  “And argue with us all the way,” Nathaniel replied wearily. Desmond's com-link went off, and he saw that it was Mariah announcing her arrival. Nathaniel glanced at it and then nodded toward the door. “Go. I'll be here.”

  “I'll stay,” Desmond said, but Nathaniel shrugged.

  “Go. You haven't seen Mariah in weeks. I'll call you if something changes.”

  “Thank you,” Desmond replied as he rose. “I won't be long.”

  “One of us should be happy and relaxed,” Nathaniel answered, watching his Maestro go.

  Once he did, he slumped more into the chair, sighing. They did spend far too much time in these chairs for their own good. It was starting to feel like this particular chair was molding to him.

  He was lost in his own thoughts when he felt someone sit beside him.

  He looked up to see a Maestro about his age sitting beside him. Tall with her blonde hair pulled into a pony tail, he vaguely recognized her as Laura, who had been in his class back when he was still studying. She was skilled in diplomacy, and absolutely stunning. With flashing blue eyes and a sculpted face, she turned heads wherever she went.

  “Nathaniel,” she said with a smile. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  She was still dressed in quest clothing, dusty and in need of a shower. It didn't make her any less beautiful, he thought.

  And then he shook himself. Why was he thinking these things?

  “And you, Laura,” he replied. “What brings you into the world's most uncomfortable seating arrangements?”

  “Ah, my Tiro, Devon, just got back from a quest and needed a little tune-up,” she said.

  Nathaniel smirked. “Is he a robot?”

  “He learns like one,” Laura answered. “Smartest fourteen-year-old I know.”

  “Mine is twelve,” Nathaniel said. “Sienna.”

  “Everyone knows Sienna,” Laura said with a smile. “She's got quite the reputation. Is she in, too?”

  “Yeah,” he answered. “Just a little scare.”

  “I'm sorry,” she said, knowing most of the story. “That must be hard.”

  “I'd like to say I get used to it,” he replied, “but I don't, of course.”

  “Of course,” she said. “She'll be all right?”

  “I'm sure,” he forced the smile back on his face. “And Devon? Was he injured in battle?”

  “He just needs to a see a medic for a moment,” Laura answered strangely. Nathaniel looked puzzled but decided to let it go. If Laura didn't want to share, then it wasn't his business. Some Maestros kept everything about their Tiro under wraps, choosing to accept no outside help in their training. “He'll be fine.”

  “That's good,” he settled back into the chair. “Where were you?”

  “On Rhona,” she smiled at him. “Nothing like a little life and death prisoner exchange to get your blood pumping.”

  “Oh, that's amazing,” he said as he grinned. “I did that quest a few times. The adrenaline rush is like nothing else.”

  “That's what Devon likes,” Laura said. “I keep trying to force diplomacy on him like a bad Maestro, but he wants to be a warrior.”

  “Aye, I know that story,” Nathaniel answered. “Sienna wants to be a warrior, too.”

  “Oh,” Laura said. “But you don't want her to be?”

  “Well, she can't,” he said, confused. He thought this was obvious.

  Laura shrugged, “I don't know. I just think you should let them walk the path they want to walk. Any one of us could be hit by a ship tomorrow”

  “Hopefully not,” Nathaniel answered. “My piloting skills aren't that bad.”

  Laura laughed. “Wasn't it you who backed a ship into a post once?”

  “I was thirteen!” he protested. “You can't hold that against me. At least it was in a simulator. I'm surprised you remember that.”

  “Oh, I remember that.” She gave him a look. “You impress me, Nathaniel. I always keep an eye out for your news.”

  “Oh,” he said, unsure how to answer. “Thank you.”

  Laura laughed. “Don't be so serious,” she said. “We've got hours of sitting in these c
hairs; we might as well make use of them.”

  “What did you have in mind?” he asked, confused. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a deck of cards.

  “Can you play Five Pence?”

  “I was born playing Five Pence,” he answered, pulling a small table over. It looked like it was half a hundred years old, but it would do for now. “Deal.”

  “I'll bet you're out in…” she glanced at the clock. “Eight minutes.”

  “You're on,” he said, grateful for the distraction. Laura was so cheery, so happy, and he couldn't help but smile. Maybe today wouldn't be so horrible after all.

  Chapter 3

  “Ah, Creator,” came the curse.

  Sienna groggily opened her eyes, the world coming back into focus. She knew where she was right away; it was all too familiar. She was in the med bay, hooked up to an IV for nutrition and for hydration. There was an oxygen tube in her nose, and her hair was tangled.

  Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was nearly three o'clock, so she had been out for an hour. She felt like she had been hit by a spaceship.

  The med bay felt particularly crowded, and she heard a buzz of voices. There must have been an accident – a few missions returning with injuries, perhaps.

  Normally, if she was in a room, she was alone, her bed against the window.

  Today, in the second bed, there was boy in street clothes and an IV in his arm. He was fiddling with it, and from the looks of things, he had pulled it out by accident.

  Sienna struggled to clear her throat, her world hazy. “Purple,” she croaked, and he turned to her.

  “What?” he asked.

  He was handsome, his hair cut close to his head, and his eyes twinkling. She had seen him around the school, but he was a full two years older than her, and they had never spoken.

  “Connect the tube to the purple connector,” she managed again, trying to sit up. Her monitors beeped, but then they settled down. “There.”

  She vaguely pointed, and he finally saw what had fallen out.

  “Oh, thanks,” he said, reaching down. For someone hooked up to an IV, he seemed surprisingly well.

  Her eyes flickered up to the bag, but she couldn't read the label. Whatever he was on, it didn't seem to be something he desperately needed.

  “There,” he said as he grinned at his own competence. “Perfect.”

  “Mmm,” she managed a smile, closing her eyes as she settled back against the pillows. She could feel Nathaniel's presence not far away, and she knew she was safe. As usual, all she had to focus on was getting better.

  “You're Sienna, aren't you?” he asked, and she opened her eyes.

  “Yes?” she asked, in confusion.

  “I'm Devon,” he said, holding out his hand. She paused, tangled in wires, and he pulled back. “Right. Sorry, I'm dumb today. It's nice to meet you.”

  “You too,” she answered, watching him.

  “I'm not a stalker,” he grinned. “Your Maestros are just in every combat textbook out there. They are legends. You are lucky.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Yes.” She knew how well known they were, and it was a fact that often made her feel guilty. They were legends before she came around and made their lives a series of boring quests.

  “That must be awesome,” he said. “I mean, my Maestro is pretty awesome. But you have two amazing ones.”

  “I do.” She managed to sit up a bit more. “I've just never been called lucky.”

  “What this?” he waived to the medical equipment around them. “This is just temporary.”

  She smiled. “Why are you here?”

  “I just got back from a quest,” he said with a shrug. “Nothing to worry about it. You?”

  “I…” she shook her head. “Something is wrong.”

  “Nothing looks wrong to me,” he looked upon her, and she blushed.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Only that you look nice,” he replied.

  She shook her head. “I look like a mess.”

  “Because they told you that you did,” he shrugged. “But you look beautiful. Don't let how you're feeling dictate what your life is going to be.”

  The words were profound, and her eyes flickered on him a moment too long.

  The curtain was pulled back then, and Tara entered.

  “Devon,” she said. “You're about done. You can go. Your test came back stable, so you're all right for now.”

  “Great,” he said, looking up at the bag. “Look, I did the whole thing!”

  “You want a pat on the head for that?” she asked, as she disconnected him. “Why is this wet?”

  “Accidentally pulled it out,” he answered, and she sighed.

  “Try to be gentle with my medical equipment,” she answered. “Now, you come back if anything feels odd. I don't know if this is going to work better than what you have, but it was worth a shot.”

  “Yes, ma'am,” he said, hopping off the bed. He turned back to Sienna, flashing her a dazzling smile. “I'll see you around.”

  “Yes,” she answered, still stunned. Her gaze lingered after him until he picked up his things and left. She had never met anyone like him before, and her mind was whirling.

  “Hello, Sienna?” Tara said, waving a hand in her face. “You with me?”

  “Yes,” Sienna shook herself back to the present moment. “Nathaniel?”

  “He's in the waiting room,” Tara answered. “You're not going anywhere.”

  “But,” Sienna choked, “for how long?”

  “Days,” Tara said, glancing at her vitals. “You can't let yourself get this way, do you hear me? Are your Maestros giving you your medications?”

  “Yes,” she said, horrified. “You think they would not?”

  “Look, I'll be honest with you,” Tara answered. “I have no idea what to do with your acridid gene, I'm guessing. But I am a medic, and I can see a decline of a problem that should have been fixed by certain medications. Your levels were more stable last month, and now they've plummeted. So, I'm going to ask you again, are you taking everything I've prescribed?”

  “Yes!” she cried. “I swear.”

  “Sure,” Tara said, making a full page of notes. “I'll get Nathaniel if you want, although I'm not eager to be told what to do. Try to remember I'm the one trained in medicine.”

  She left her to head to the waiting room, and Sienna closed her eyes. What the hell had just happened?

  “Hey.” Nathaniel entered the room, and she was surprised to see him looking incredibly bright eyed. As far as she knew, he had gone straight to class after their disastrous night. “How are you feeling?”

  “I'm all right,” she said. “You look well.”

  “I just played a card game that was like a race,” he said, pulling up a chair. “I have another career as a gambler if being a witch doesn't work out.”

  “With who?” she asked, curious.

  “Another Maestro. Your hands are cold,” he said, squeezing them. “Although, it's better than too warm. You gave us quite a scare.”

  “I'm all right,” she repeated, sinking down into the blankets. “Tara is mad.”

  “Tara is always mad,” he said, looking up at the IVs she was hooked up to. “What the…? No!” he said, as he read the labels. “I told her specifically not to give you this.”

  “That's what she's mad about,” Sienna said, but he didn't hear her. He was already headed out the door to give Tara an earful.

  Sometimes, her greatest wish was that they could all just get along for one med bay trip. Just one; it could even be a short one.

  Her Maestros had taken to rarely leaving her alone, and she was glad for that. She didn't feel safe without one of them around, especially when her language was still shaky. It used to be worse, but now she was used to relying on them out of habit. That night, when she was finally settled with a medication that Nathaniel was happy with, and Desmond was sitting in a chair, working on paperwork, she spoke up.

  “Do
you know this person?” she asked, having found Devon's profile on the school's database. Every Tiro had one with their picture and their qualifications.

  Desmond looked up from his paperwork, focusing on the screen. “That's Devon,” he said, after a moment. “Sure. That's Laura Maris's Tiro. Why?”

  “He was here today,” she said, pointing to the other bed which remained empty.

  “Oh,” Desmond replied. “That's odd.”

  “Why?” she asked, and he shrugged.

  “I wasn't aware Devon had any health issues. You're in the chronic treatment wing.”

  “Oh,” she realized.

  “What was wrong?” he asked, and she shook her head.

  “I didn't see,” she said. “It was crowded today.”

  “It was,” he said. “There was a big quest that came back with rescues, so maybe he was just in here because it was overcrowded.”

  “Maybe,” Sienna continued to stare at his picture. His eyes were addicting, and the smile in his photo was exactly what she remembered. “He is a diplomat?”

  “I don't know,” Desmond answered. “Laura doesn't put him in class too much, nor does she opt for open discussion when called for review.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Do you have…open discussion with the Jurors?”

  “Nope,” he said, with a smile, “so I understand her reasoning.”

  “Oh,” she finally tore herself away from the tablet. “Is Mariah back?”

  “She is,” Desmond said. “Her mission went well. She wanted to see you, but I told her to wait until you were awake, at least.”

  “I want to see Mariah,” she said. “Please.”

  “I can call her,” Desmond answered. “But maybe tomorrow. It was quite a scare, Sienna.”

  “And I ruined the quest,” she said.

  “You didn't,” Desmond assured her. “Eliza postponed it because her meetings changed. So, you didn't ruin anything.”

  “Oh,” Sienna replied. “I'm sorry, though.”

  “Don't be sorry,” Desmond tried to convince her. “Just focus on getting well.”

  She yawned, and he nudged her arm.

  “See? Your body is already suggesting you do that.”

  “Don't go,” she said like a small child.