Ingrid frowned. "We live and let live."
"This girl isn't going to live if we don't do something for her fast."
"And whose fault is that?" Hazel said.
Cyan bared his teeth at the other male. "I wouldn't even have taken that shot if it weren't for you. And she was already hurt before we found her. Look at her leg. If it isn't infected already it will be soon. She's burning up."
Harriet stepped forward, her brows knotted together as she examined the unconscious girl. "We can patch her up, and we've got some old antibiotics in storage, but heck if I know if they're still any good." She looked up at Ingrid. "We could see to her injuries and take her back down the mountain right away. The girl's out cold, she won't be able to tell anyone where we are."
"It's not that simple," Hazel said. "Cyan shifted right in front of her. She knows we're not human."
Harriet let out a bark of laughter, but there was no humour in her tone. "You think anyone will believe she got saved by werewolves? She probably won't even believe it herself when she comes around!"
"It's risky," Ingrid said, prompting a glare from Harriet.
"Everything's risky, girl, you just don't know how to deal with the risk. I say fix her up and send her on her way, before she sees or hears anything else about werewolves."
"She won't heal up overnight like us," Cyan said. "How long would it take to get her down the mountain to that town? A day as our wolves? Two or three on human legs, and if we have to carry her on top of that?"
"We can't take the risk." Hazel looked to Ingrid insistently. "You know what we have to do. She becomes one of us, or she dies."
April gave her mother an imploring look, but the older woman's eyes were pained, her head shaking slowly, regretfully. Harriet had her arms folded, an impassive scowl set on her wrinkled face, but when April caught her grandmother's gaze she saw something expectant there. Harriet raised her eyebrows slightly, and gave her a minuscule nod, as if to say Well? What do you think, girl?
April took a deep breath, then stepped forward next to Cyan, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I think Cyan's right," she said. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she felt the eyes of the pack descend on her, the knots in her stomach squirming into painful new shapes as she heard exclamations of surprise and disagreement. Her body began to tremble, and she clutched Cyan's shoulder harder.
"That's wonderful, April," Hazel said dismissively. "But it's not your decision. Ingrid, come on, you know what needs to be done."
But the look in Ingrid's eyes had lightened. April's opinion might not mean much to the rest of the pack, but it clearly mattered to her mother. For a second she thought she caught a glimpse of something almost proud in Ingrid's expression.
"It's not your decision either, Hazel," April retorted, letting the confidence inside her swell to overcome her anxiety. "And Cyan's already helped our pack once. Hasn't he earned our trust?"
"It's not a matter of trust." Hazel glared at her. "It's about sticking to the rules that have kept us safe all these years. Cyan isn't one of us, he doesn't have to live the the consequences of what happens if we let that girl stay."
"I might not be one of you," Cyan said, "but I know what happens when a pack starts turning inwards like this. You really want to become murderers just to stay hidden?"
"It won't come to that!" Hazel snapped. "Not if she becomes one of us. We're not monsters."
"You might as well be if you're going to force that on her. You've all grown up like this, but you don't know what it's like having to say goodbye to a human life to become a werewolf, especially if it isn't your choice. No one has the right to decide that for another person."
Cyan's words were more impassioned that April had ever heard him before. He was usually so cool and reserved around the rest of the pack, but now she could see the wolf inside him coming to the surface. This was the same Cyan who had fought off the ferals to protect her, the same one who had held her tight in his arms when the world around her was falling apart. It was clear that his speech didn't just come from some lofty sense of morals, but from a source that was deeply personal to him.
"I agree", April said. "Haven't we had enough hurt lately?" She took a deep breath. "I'm not saying we should abandon our rules, but this woman shouldn't have to suffer because of them."
"Well said." Harriet stepped forward at last, raising her voice to drown out the murmurings of the pack around them. "This girl stays, at least for the time being. We'll fix her up, find out how much she knows about us, and then take it from there. Might be she's on her way and none the wiser before the end of the week." She gave Ingrid a look that brooked no argument, and the younger woman nodded faintly in agreement.
"Good," Cyan said, ignoring the continued protests of Hazel as he lifted the unconscious girl up off the bench and into his arms. "Let's get her inside, and Harriet, if you could find those antibiotics you mentioned and any other medical supplies I'd be very grateful."
Harriet snorted and gave April's leg a tap with her stick. "I agreed with keeping her here, but I'm not running all over fetching things for you. April, go look through the stores and find what he needs."
April nodded and turned to go, brimming with confidence. She had stood up to the rules alongside Cyan, and with Harriet's help, they'd won. Her grandmother caught her arm as she left and leant in to whisper to her.
"See, what did I tell you, girl?"
April smiled and gave Harriet's arm a squeeze, before hurrying off to gather what Cyan needed. As she made her way through the crowd, the disapproving looks her pack mates no longer seemed so hard to bear.
* * * * *
After April had fetched what passed for the Highland Pack's stock of medical supplies and brought them to one of the unoccupied cabins, Cyan set to work patching up the unconscious girl as best he could. He and the third pack elder, Gene, seemed to be the only ones with any medical experience, and with the assistance of the older male he was able to remove the arrowhead and dress most of her wounds. The gash in her leg was the worst, and a further collection of scrapes and bruises demonstrated that she'd clearly been in a lot of trouble even before Cyan shot her, but none of her injuries were imminently life threatening. He didn't know which of the antibiotic pills in their dusty glass jars might be appropriate for treating the kind of fever the girl had, but Gene seemed knowledgeable enough to set aside doses for her to take over the next few days.
"A werewolf bite would fix her up overnight, of course," his companion mused absently as he finished cleaning and stitching her leg. Cyan frowned at him, but there didn't seem to be any malicious intent on Gene's part. He was strange. Vacant. In fact, this was the first time he'd heard the elder say anything at all since his arrival over a month ago. His obvious medical expertise aside, Cyan couldn't fathom why someone like Gene had been tasked with helping to lead the Highland Pack.
After an hour or so they had done all they could for the young woman, but Cyan remained by her side as she drifted in and out of consciousness on the hastily made pallet bed. Despite Harriet and Ingrid's assurances, he'd seen the looks some of the other pack members had given him. They weren't happy with outsiders in their pack, let alone humans who had no idea werewolves even existed outside of their stories and fairytales. He didn't feel comfortable leaving her alone, at least not before she'd been given the chance to talk to someone reasonable.
April came to bring him food a couple of hours later, and his heart warmed as she took his hand and left a hasty kiss on his cheek before leaving. It felt good to be doing something for once. Not just hunting and surviving, but making decisions and standing up for what he felt was right. Maybe if he could bring the Highland Pack around to this, then maybe he and April...
Not going to happen. He sighed internally. That fleeting kiss had almost made him feel like she could be his mate, in another lifetime. But it wasn't a realistic hope. There was too much standing in the way of that fantasy for it to ever work out.
He con
tended himself for now with watching over the sleeping girl, reassured that, regardless of whatever else happened between him and the Highland Pack, he had at least done some good things in his time here.
Cyan had begun to doze when a thin whisper crept into his ear.
"Are you really werewolves?"
He blinked, startled by the girl's voice, and looked over to see her peering at him with tired, anxious eyes. "What makes you say that?" he said.
"I saw what you did. I heard you talking with the other ones. I didn't imagine it, did I?"
"No." Cyan sighed. There wasn't much point in hiding it now. "You're right, we are werewolves, but we're not monsters. There's no need to be afraid of us."
The girl shuffled back against her pillows and winced, touching the dressing beneath her arm. "You shot me with an arrow."
"I know, I'm sorry. I thought you were a wild animal."
"I don't like hunting." She coughed, glancing around and then reaching out for the cup of water that had been left beside her bed. The movement brought a moan of pain from her lips, and the fell back against the pillows, breathing heavily.
Without a word Cyan slipped out of his chair and knelt beside the girl, handing her the cup.
"Thank you," she said after swallowing the entire cupful in one hungry gulp, her voice growing a little stronger.
"What's your name?" Cyan said.
"Lisa."
He smiled faintly. "I knew someone who used to call herself that."
"Used to?"
"It's a werewolf thing." He took the cup from her and refilled it from a pitcher. "Some of us like to think up new names after we leave our old lives behind. I'm Cyan."
Lisa took the freshly filled cup and cradled it in her hands, gazing down into the water. "So what's your real name?"
He shook his head with a murmur of amusement. "Something beginning with C. It doesn't matter now. What were you doing out there on the mountain? Were you really alone like you said?"
"Yes. It's not the same if you're with other people. I've been doing this survival stuff ever since I was a teenager. I thought I was getting good at it."
"What happened this time?"
"I just took a fall. There were some rocks that looked safe, but they weren't." She winced, trying to move her leg beneath the sheets. "My mom kept telling me she was terrified of something like this happening. Maybe she was right."
"What do you do when you're not climbing mountains?" Cyan pressed, eager to keep her talking. She'd handled the werewolf revelation well, and he wanted to put her mind at ease as much as possible while he had time. If she wasn't afraid of them it was less likely she'd end up doing something impulsive.
"I'm going to be a vet, when I finish my studies." She smiled and took another sip of water. Despite the tangled blonde hair and the bruise on her chin, Cyan realised she was very pretty beneath her injuries.
"An animal lover, huh? No wonder you don't seem to mind the idea of being saved by werewolves."
Lisa's brow furrowed and she shook her head. "It's really, really weird. How do you... how?"
Cyan shrugged. "We just are. There aren't many of us, not compared to humans at least. We've just been lucky enough to stay hidden for however long we've been around."
"But how does it work?" Lisa squinted at him, rolling over on to her elbow and wincing in pain again. Rather than fear, her eyes were filled with an intense curiosity that overwhelmed the girl's discomfort. "When you changed, what happened to your clothes? Is it genetic? How did you evolve like this?"
"I honestly don't know, I don't think any of us do. Maybe it's some kind of evolution, maybe it's magic—"
Lisa scoffed. "There's no such thing as magic. And even if there was, there'd still be a scientific explanation for it."
Cyan chuckled. "All I meant was, maybe it's something nobody can understand right now. And werewolves aren't the type to set up universities and labs to start studying it."
"It's incredible," Lisa said, then blinked, her eyelids drooping. As curious as she was, Cyan realised, she still had a lot to recover from. Before she slipped back into unconsciousness he leaned over and took her by the shoulder, his expression turning serious.
"Lisa," he said, and she looked up at him, "if I'm not around when you wake up again, try not to ask the others so many questions about werewolves. They're nervous about you being here. This pack's very protective of their privacy."
She nodded slowly, and her eyelids closed again. "Thank you," she whispered, before fading back out.
Cyan let out a long breath and tucked her back under the covers, making sure the cup of water was within easy reach along with the half of his meal he'd reserved for her. Taking one last look at the sleeping girl he rose to his feet and slipped out of the cabin quietly.
On his way out he almost walked straight into Blackthorn as the tall male approached the door. He caught himself at the last moment, and gave a curt nod.
"How is she?" Blackthorn asked, his voice pleasantly free of its usual accusatory tone.
"Sleeping, for now," Cyan replied. "I'd leave her be for the moment."
"Has she woken up yet?"
Cyan hesitated for a second, then nodded. "She knows what we are."
Blackthorn glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the meeting area. "You know she'll have to become one of us now. The others won't let her go now that she knows."
"But your elders said—"
"They said we wouldn't throw her out to die." He gave Cyan a serious look. "If she knows what we are, that makes a big difference. Maybe with Harriet on your side it'll give the others pause to think, but in the long run there's only one way this can end."
"Not while I'm around," Cyan snarled. "I'd swear, April and Harriet are the only two of you with any sense about this."
"I didn't say I agreed." Blackthorn caught Cyan's arm as he tried to push past, then lowered his voice. "Whatever I might think of you, you did a noble thing standing up for that girl in front of the others. April did too."
Cyan frowned at him, but there was only sincerity to be found in Blackthorn's expression. "Is that an apology?"
Blackthorn snorted and shoved him away, but the gesture wasn't vicious. "You're still an outsider."
"Just an honourable outsider, hm?"
Blackthorn adjusted his belt, as though pondering, and then returned the curt, respectful nod Cyan had greeted him with. From this werewolf, it was as close to an apology as he was likely to get.
* * * * *
A warm glow followed April around for the rest of the day after helping Cyan stand up to Ingrid and the others. For the first time in weeks she felt confident, alive, and free from the depressing weight of grief and anxiety about the future. She felt good, and it felt good to feel good. It was a sensation she'd almost forgotten.
Even the disapproving comments from her pack members couldn't get her down. When they spoke to her with reproachful words about the dangers of letting a human outsider stay in their camp she responded with a cool, confident head. She thought about what Harriet might say, and let the old woman's advice guide her words. She wasn't just an insecure young girl at the bottom of the pack hierarchy, she came from a line of leaders, and she could make her own voice heard if she believed in it.
The prospect of finding a mate no longer weighed quite so heavily on her either. At the very least, surely she could convince Ingrid to give her some more time to think about it, or the opportunity to choose for herself? That didn't change the fact that she had no romantic interest in any of the males from her pack, but it was more than she'd had when she woke up that morning.
Her appreciation of Cyan, too, had been rekindled by the way he'd stood up for the human girl. She'd seen an intimate part of him break through the surface when he addressed the pack on her behalf, a part he kept hidden behind his usual stoic mannerisms most of the time. He was a deeply passionate person, she knew that from the time she'd spent with him, and seeing him outwardly express it to t
he rest of the world made her understand why he'd once been the leader of his own pack in the first place. She was happy for him, and happy for herself, but it wasn't until the late evening that she finally realised what today had meant for her.
She was getting past the death of Harper. She was ready to move on.
All evening her gaze lingered on Cyan, trying to find a quiet moment in which to approach him, but between the hubbub of her pack mates discussing the controversial new developments, and the amount of questions they were asking him about the human girl, she barely had time to squeeze in a few words, let alone take him aside for a private conversation. Despite everything else, she was still nervous about being seen with him. People were already wondering why she'd taken his side earlier on, and the last thing she needed was speculation about what the two of them might be doing together in private. Harriet's words still hung in the back of her mind:
You can still have what you want. You've just got to want it enough to pay the price.
She wanted Cyan, but not enough to put her whole future—and his—in jeopardy. Not yet.
She took a deep breath as she watched him over the flickering flames, wondering what else he was besides a passionate lover and a brave, moral leader. She wanted to find out, and then, only then, would she decide just how much she might be willing to risk for him.
Most of the pack had retired to their cabins by the time she rose to her feet and hopped over to his side, glancing cautiously at the other hangers-on to make sure they were preoccupied with their own conversations. Her heart thumped in her chest, excitement and anxiety quickening her body as she knelt down to whisper in his ear.
"Come up to the caves with me. Nobody'll find us."
Cyan looked up at her, surprise clearly registering on his face, then his lips perked into a smile, and he nodded once. Her cheeks heated at the look he gave her, and with her legs trembling in anticipation she skipped away from the meeting area, making it look like she was headed back to her cabin. Once she reached the door she cast a glance over her shoulder to make sure no one was looking her way, then slipped past the wooden wall into the shadows of the trees. She let her wolf rise up and take control then, stretching her strong legs and sniffing the crisp night air for its phantom scents as she darted forwards beneath the low-hanging branches, skirting the edge of camp and sticking to the shadows as she went. The voice of her wolf nagged her, the pull of her instinct struggling to suppress the impulsive urges of her human side.
Broken Moon: Part 4 Page 3
