The Wolves and the White Bird

11. The Journey

The day was long and by the time lunch had come around, Cora had healed six patients, leaving her energy feeling drained. She glanced down at the numbers on her tattoo as they clicked over to 00027, the last one being an irritating older woman that she would have preferred not healing her tiny cut at all. Not only was the healing rough on her body, but the strange liquid the doctor had injected into her system had surely contributed to her feeling beyond her normal level of fatigue.

So when Alpha Draven himself came into the medical suite at 1pm she ended up stumbling over her feet and falling directly into his arms.

"Sorry," mumbled Cora, quick to get off him and away from the strange sensation she felt across throughout her body with the contact. She straightened herself out.

The alpha looked her up and down as she stood there, using the nearby reception desk to keep herself upright. The only thing she wanted right now was a nice, long nap.

"Have you eaten yet?" asked Alpha Draven, his tall figure towering over Cora with a curious expression on his face. His earthy scent lingered in the air, a bit too close for Cora's comfort.

It was odd for her to refuse a meal, never knowing when the next one was going to come along, but the last thing on Cora's mind right now was food. "I'm not really hungry."

"We can eat on the plane," said Alpha Draven, ignoring her rejection of food. He turned, walking down the hallway, leaving Cora to follow behind.

It wasn't long before Cora exited the building and shuffled her way into the car, sitting way too close to Alpha Draven for her comfort as he sat in the seat next to her. His arm touched hers and she didn't know why, but her body relaxed. His presence was oddly peaceful, and she had to remind herself constantly not to drift off on the shoulder of the enemy. After all, he was still her captor, and even though he hadn't shown it yet, there was no telling what he could be capable of. Cora's body stiffened for the rest of the journey.

At last she exited the car and shuffled onto the same private jet that she had taken to get here. It all happened so fast and she was so tired that from the moment she sat down again in those plush, comfortable plane seats, she was asleep.

As much as she would have appreciated sleeping for another week solid, she woke up only an hour later as a plate of food was set down in front of her. Her stomach churned, and she felt like she was going to be sick. It was a normal side effect that she had whenever she dealt with Johar.

"Why aren't you eating," said Draven, who was sitting across from her, staring at her as she held her hand over her stomach.

She looked down at her food again. "I'm going to be sick." Cora bolted from her chair, stumbling back and forth between the rows of seats. Sweat dripped down her back as she swayed from the dizziness, desperate to find the toilet before she barfed in the middle of the aisle. Three more steps and she made it, just in time to swing the door open and hurl the limited contents of her stomach in the toilet bowl. Part of it was neon green. After a moment, the feeling subsided, and she wiped her mouth, flushing the evidence down the toilet.

Cora's body ached as she pushed back up off the clean floor, which was unusual for a toilet. Then again, she was in a private jet. She turned around and jumped when she saw Draven standing at the start of the aisle, blocking her from returning to her seat.

He directed his gaze behind her, coercing her to turn around and head in the opposite direction to her plane seat. His hand landed on her lower back, guiding her forward while sending a shiver up her back where his fingers grazed. They came to a stop at a door, and he opened it, directing her inside.

"Sleep. You'll need to be ready for the journey as soon as we land, and I don't want you holding us up."

Draven closed the door and left. Again, Cora found herself in a room with a fluffy white bed. It wasn't a large room and the bed only just fit in the small space, but she didn't care about anything as she face-planted head first into the comforter.