ONYX✔️

Chapter 45

Throwing myself face first on the bed, I can't help the tears that flow freely from my eyes. At this point, I'm not sure if it's from Greyson's death, the glass stuck in my arm, my broken ribs, or a combination of all three. Probably the latter.

A soft knock hits my door, which I ignore. The last thing I want right now is Finn coddling me, telling me it will all be okay. It will never be okay again.

The knocking persists. "Go away, Finn," I say through sobs.

"It's me," A voice says gently. "Ronin."

My tears stop abruptly from my confusion. I get out of bed, ignoring the pain shooting through my chest and arm. I open the door, and Ronin is standing, holding up a medical bag.

"Do you mind if I take a look at your arm? I'm a healer," He says quietly, shyly.

I shake my head, opening the door. I sit in the chair by the window I shattered, and Ronin takes the second chair that Finn would sit in.

Ronin hold my wrist gently, looking at my bloody arm. He opens the bag, and pulls out a pair of tweezers. "This may hurts a little bit," He apologizes.

He uses the tweezers to remove the chunks of glass, and I wince slightly. "No one is mad at you, you know," He says quietly. "They understand the... situation."

I swallow. "Did Finn tell you all about..." I can't bring myself to say it out loud.

He hesitates, pulling out another piece of glass. "Not the details. Just the gist," He reassures me. "We were there when he found you outside."

I flinch. I barely remembered that night, the Darkness had nearly completely taken over.

His voice is shakey as he says, "I thought you were dead when I first saw you in Finn's arms. Your skin was blue. Later that night, Finn asked me to take a look at your ribs. He thought they may have been broken, but when I tried to heal them, you started screaming and punched me in the face while you were thrashing," He laughs slightly.

"Sorry," I wince. "I... I don't really remember that night well."

He shrugs. "Like I said. No one blames you for anything."

Guilt reverberates through me. I had much to be blamed for. Starting with Greyson's death. "Maybe you should," I mutter.

Ronin takes an alcohol pad and rubs it on my arm, wiping up the blood in the process, and apologizing when I flinch. "You shouldn't blame yourself," Ronin says quietly after a moment. "I've been down that path. You can't save everybody, Onyx."

Ronin hovers his hand over my arm, and I can feel it tingle as skin patches over the cuts. He was a full-fledged healer, a rarity among wolves. Many had an affinity for bandaging and knowing what herbs to use, but very rarely could they use their Gift to quickly heal over wounds. Grams was a healer too, and I was used to the strange sensation.

"I should take a look at your ribs too," Ronin insists.

I shake my head. "They're fine." A lie.

Ronin raises an eyebrow. "You heal at the rate of a normal wolf. I saw how destroyed they were that night. It looked like your chest was collapsing in on itself. I can't imagine what could cause that much force..." His voice trails off. "I know what you're doing."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I deny it.

He looks at me, sympathy present in his gaze. "You're punishing yourself for that night. You think you'll feel better if you repent through pain, but you're wrong."

I can't help breaking down. All I do these days is cry. "I-I don't know how to get over this," I sob, and Ronin wraps his arms around me. I stain his shirt with my tears.