Heir To The Iron Crown: Dyrith

4 - Fjórða

I was helped into a room where the doctor handed me a hospital gown to wear.

I took off my clothes and realized I was still wearing the gold cloveroot pendant. I unclipped it and put it in my skirt pocket before folding the clothes away.

It didn't take me long to change into the hospital gown, albeit painfully, before lying on the only bed in the room, as I was instructed.

The pack doctor entered the room with Zula and Diem right behind her. Diem stayed near the door, but Zula followed the doctor all the way to the side of my bed.

The pack doctor, whose name I learned to be Emery, lifted the gown to take a better look at the stab wound and I could tell by her pause, that she had some things to say about it.

"I know my work quite well Rayne," Emery said. "And I know these stitches wouldn't open up in just a little walk. How did you tear them?"

"I don't know," I replied plainly, as she started to work on cleaning the wound and stitching it up for the second time in a span of just a few hours. She gave me local anesthesia, and I was grateful for the numb sensation in my thigh.

"I'm sure you wouldn't have tried to shift, or go on a run in the the middle of the night just to hurt yourself," she said. "It looks like someone tore the stitches."

"It was Bayo wasn't it?" Zula asked immediately.

I didn't respond. I knew he was far from justice for being the way he was, so there was no point in complaining right now.

"I knew it," Zula said. "That son of a-"

"Luna Zula," Emery said, "why don't you take a seat?"

I couldn't see what was happening behind me, but I let out a light chuckle at the way Zula was freaking out.

I knew I wanted to hate her, but right now, I couldn't. So I just told myself that maybe she wasn't involved in the attacks on my pack, and gave her the benefit of the doubt.

Zula dragged a plastic chair on the side of the bed I faced and sat right in front of me. Nothing about her seemed kind, although she did seem a little considerate.

"Who is your real mate?" she asked me, completely out of nowhere.

I looked at her, as if confused.

"We both know Bayo wasn't your mate, who is it then? I know you're marked so don't tell me you don't have one," she said.

I sighed at the way she had cornered me.

"On my way here," I said, deciding to let her in on the partial truth. "I was marked by someone in the forest from behind me, I didn't see who it was, I couldn't recognize him at all. All I knew was that he was my mate."

Zula seemed to be thinking about this, and I was glad that she wasn't a complete skeptic.

"But you accepted the mark. The mark will only be permanent if you accept it. It looks pretty dark to me," she said.

I had read about this once. That if someone was marked forcefully, the mark wouldn't last two days and would heal like a regular wound.

"He was my mate," I said honestly.

"But a complete stranger! How did you let him mark you like that! Surely there must have been some familiarity," she asked.

I thought about what happened in that forest a few days ago. I hadn't the slightest clue that it would have been Valente, but there really was a familiarity that I didn't completely comprehend in that moment, and I let him mark me.

I had accepted him, as he had accepted me.

"And why would he hide his identity from you? I've never heard of something like this," she asked me.

I wanted to make sure I was a clear dead end to her, if in case she was trying to get any information from me.

"I really have no idea," I told her, quite simply.

"Then why did you pretend to be Bayo's mate?" she asked me.

I had to think about how to answer without blatanly telling her what our real intentions were.

"Well, we realized it wouldn't be easy to hide the mark, so we decided to go with it for the time being so there wouldn't be further questions," I replied, not looking her in the eyes.

"So you really don't know who your mate is," she said, a finger placed on her lips.

"Mhmm," I said, the affect of the anesthesia wearing off sooner than I'd like.

"Or you could just be lying," she said. Even though it was an accusation, she said it casually, as if considering the possibility.

I closed my eyes as if it would make her go away. She and her mate had been far too inquisitive ever since they got here, and it was now starting to get to me, even more so.

"Are you?" she asked, and I could feel her gaze on me.

I opened my eyes to see she was staring into them, as if daring me to lie.

"Are you lying Rayne?" she asked again, for good measure.

"Luna Zula, I'm afraid Rayne has to rest now, for the healing," Emery said from behind me, placing a sheet over my body, the little warmth welcome. I was grateful for her intervention, because I knew I wasn't the best liar.

The throbbing pain in my thigh was still dull and slow, but I knew it'd build up if I didn't go to sleep soon.

"Okay, I understand," Zula said, giving me a smile that seemed genuine, but I was really questioning it now. "Take care," she said in a quiet voice, and left towards the door.

I saw Valente standing there, who nodded at Zula curtly as she left.

Emery dimmed the lights for me, and left some pain killers on the side table before telling me those were just in case.

I'm sure she couldn't ask Valente to leave, so she left with Diem who closed the door behind him.

My heart was beating fast when I realized that only Valente and I were left in the room, and I could think of a million things to say to him.

But at that moment, nothing left my lips, only tears left my eyes.

It was too much.

It was too much to finally see him, after what seemed like forever, and he was here. The sense of belonging and safety that I had last felt with him came rushing back, and I couldn't help but cry.

He came and sat on the chair Zula had taken just a few minutes ago, but his presence was comforting, and not at all unwanted.

"Hey," I said to him, my voice shaky.

His signature smirk was on his face, but his eyes were filled with emotion that I knew could overflow any second.

He wiped away my tears gently with the back of his fingers. The way he looked at me held such an intensity that I was sure no one could look at me the way he did.

He pulled his chair a little closer and placed his hand softly on my cheek.

"Why hello, beautiful stranger."

...

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