Chapter Fifty-Eight

Jaxon

If I never see a hospital again, I'll die a happy alpha.

The doctors have given Faith two weeks. Her damn ankle was so messed up when we found her, it needed reconstructive surgery—not to mention her voltage burns, and yet more fun head trauma.

Fang, one week. He's a little banged up, mostly from his last fight, but he'll pull through without issue.

At the very start of visiting hours on Friday morning, I walk into Faith's room carrying a wrapped gift.

Surprise, surprise, Fang's already here.

"Morning," I say.

He sits back in his wheelchair, but doesn't let go of Faith's hand. Seeing him in the cool light of morning—black hair draped perfectly over his forehead, toned shoulders rolled back, those piercing, deep-set eyes sizing me up—I get chills.

Faith's chosen a good-looking mate. I'll give her that much.

"How'd you guys sleep?" I ask, pretending it doesn't bother me that he got here before I did, already cozied up with my omega.

Faith answers first, her hands signing, Fine.

Fang nods. "Yeah, fine."

"I know," I tell him. "I mean, ‘fine'—that's pretty basic."

He almost smirks. "I was answering for myself, actually."

"Oh." I put the present down on Faith's bedside. "Gotcha."

She looks across, signing slowly so I understand, What's … that ?

I smile. "Got you a present, pretty girl." She instantly picks it up, ripping open the paper. Her eyes widen when she sees the book cover underneath. The pages are already worn, dog-eared all over the place.

AMERICAN SIGN LANGUAGE FOR DUMMIES.

"Okay." I rub the back of my neck. "A present for us. "

The corner of Faith's lip twitches. She looks back up at me, her bright blue eyes sparkling. Thank you, she signs.

I laugh. "Thank me when we finally finish reading it."

She tilts her head. We?

Right on cue, there's a knock at the door, as Caleb and Micah make themselves known.

"Hey, angel," Micah walks in. He smiles nervously at Fang. "Hi, Fang."

Fang gives both my packmates the same treatment, automatically scanning them up and down for potential threat.

"You're all here early," he notes.

"Same time as every morning," Caleb returns. He stands next to me, his pheromones softening as he tucks a strand of hair behind Faith's ear. "You're looking better today," he says. "Stronger."

Faith rolls her eyes. She signs something—but I can't catch all the words.

Fang scoffs. "She said, You say that every day. "

Without looking at Fang, Caleb says, "Great to have you around, Fang. Saves Faith the trouble of writing things down."

Even for me, it's hard to tell if he's being sarcastic. I decide not to comment.

Faith signs again. We all look at her, then at Fang, waiting for him to translate.

He recites, "How's Maverick? Isn't he getting discharged today?"

That's right. Maverick's time in observation is up, much to his—and the entire ward's—relief.

Micah nods. "I'm sure he's signing his forms as we speak. I can go check on him, if you want? He could probably use a ride home."

"No need," I say, barely hiding my bitterness, "I'm sure this is the first place he'll think to come."

Caleb casts me a vaguely warning look. I ignore him. As far as I'm concerned, it's in everyone's best interests for me to act all petty and jealous with Maverick. At least I'm getting that energy out some where.

Fang inches his wheelchair even closer to Faith's bed. He turns her wrist, trailing his fingers up and down her tendons. The scent that rolls off of her is so sweet, so perfect, I'm not even mad.

"Before he gets here," Fang says, "there's something I need to ask."

My packmates and I go quiet. Even Faith seems confused, frowning ever-so-slightly.

Fang takes a breath. "I know I've still got a few days left in recovery, and Faith's got even longer … but I want to know what the plan is." His jaw tightens. "Once we're out."

She comes to live with us, obviously, I almost snap. And, I guess, he can come too. Even if it's just to make sure I'm getting that happy omega scent every morning.

Thankfully Caleb answers, "That'll be up to you and Faith. You're very welcome to join us at our den—if you don't mind the squeeze. Or we can find a supervisor for you."

Fang scowls. "Not a refuge?"

"No. As a mated pair, you've been deemed … volatile. Not suited for refuges."

Fang considers for a moment, then looks up at Faith. "I can put up with a supervisor, if that's our only option."

"Again," I reiterate on my head alpha's behalf, "that's not your only option."

"Wilder Den would be happy to have you," Micah insists, looking at Faith, then Fang. "Both of you."

Fang quirks an eyebrow. "Look, I know you guys took care of my mate while I was gone, but—in case it wasn't clear—I'm back now. She doesn't need to be leeching off someone else's pack."

At these words, Faith hangs her head.

So she told him about that. I sigh. Of course she did. As far as he knows, we want nothing to do with her. And, as far as we know, she wants nothing more to do with us.

"Except it wouldn't be someone else's pack," Caleb rumbles, surprising all of us.

Faith's head snaps back up.

Fang scowls. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about courting her," Caleb says, matter-of-factly, "into Pack Wilder."

It's not Faith, or Fang, who react first. It's me and Micah—our breaths catching, our jaws going slack. After everything that happened, racing to get Faith back, I assumed his feelings might've changed somewhat. But this is a complete three-sixty.

Rather than question it, my inner alpha purrs emphatically, proud to be a part of Caleb's pack.

Seeing the tears in Faith's eyes, Fang's grip loosens. He sits back, giving her space to process. Probably giving himself space to process, as well.

Just as I think she's about to say something, there's a brash knock at the door.

Maverick waltzes in, waving his discharge forms like a trophy. "Hey, party people." He grins. "Guess who just got a clean bill of health?"

No one engages. There might as well be crickets chirping.

"Woah." Maverick stops. "This a bad time?"

***

The conversation ends, just as awkwardly as it began, when a nurse comes in to check Faith's vitals. She announces her blood pressure is way up and strongly advises the rest of us fuck off so Faith can rest.

Though maybe not in those exact words.

"I'll pull the car around," Micah says to Maverick. "You, uh, need help getting downstairs?"

Maverick scoffs. "I'm not an invalid, Micah."

"You broke two ribs," I remind him, "and you've been stuck on your ass for four days." I shoot Micah a fond look. "Let the poor guy fuss."

My packmate blushes.

Still, standing in the hallway between me, Caleb, Micah, and Fang, Maverick must sense some major-league tension. He hesitates, glancing openly between us, before sucking his teeth.

"You know what? I just remembered, I still have some forms I need to sign." He smiles at Micah. "Why don't I meet you downstairs in ten, twenty, whatever?"

Micah blinks. "Are you sure?"

Maverick is already walking away. "Totally sure! Tell Faith I'll catch her later."

He disappears into the elevator, wagging his fingers at us until the doors close. A quiet growl sounds from Fang, bristling in his wheelchair.

"Your friend is a little too fond of Faith for my liking."

I snort. "You and me both."

Our eyes meet. I force myself not to look away, not backing down from this silent display of intimidation. He's testing me, after all—if not for my own strength, then for the strength I can offer his omega.

"You know," he says, turning his gaze to Caleb, "I can't move in with you. At least …" his jaw hardens, "not right now."

My heart sinks. "What," I ask, "you don't like us or something?"

"Jaxon," Caleb murmurs.

"No," Fang says, "I like you all fine. You're … strong, and you take care of Faith." He grips the arm of his wheelchair. "Make her happy."

Micah inches forward, studying Fang's expression. "Then what's the issue? Whatever it is, I'm sure we can work something out. As I'm sure you've noticed, we all really—" he blushes, " really care about Faith. We'll do whatever it takes to make sure you're both comfortable."

Fang smirks at him. "You're worried, if I turn you down, she will, too."

All of us stop. Faith was right—Fang is scary. I can never tell if he's being genuine, or just trying to get under my skin.

"Yes," Caleb answers at last. "We are."

"Don't be. She'll say yes."

My eyes widen. "What are you talking about?"

"You want to court her?" Fang shrugs. "She wants that too. I can tell."

"H–how?" Micah chokes. "How could you know that?"

Only now does Fang's teasing undertone fade away, replaced by something hard and certain. "Because she's in love with you."

God, if I had a penny for every time this asshole caught me at a loss for words. Our whole pack returns to stunned silence, like we can't believe we heard him right.

Finally, Micah whispers, "You don't know that."

"I know Faith," Fang says. "She doesn't warm up to many people. Sure as hell doesn't trust easy." He smiles, somewhat painfully. "But she trusted the three of you with her life, and mine. There's no other explanation." He shrugs. "She's in love with you."

The more he explains, the more my heart soars, blood singing through my veins. Faith trusts me. The words feel like a healing balm, smoothing over that terrible night. Fixing everything she heard and said that made her leave.

"She's in love with you, too," Caleb says, firmly. "She'll never leave you behind."

Fang sighs. "She won't have to. I told you, I'm not ready to be part of a pack—not even to live with one." He grits his teeth. "But maybe one day, I will be."

"She'll wait for you," I assure him. "You know that."

"Yeah." He nods. "I know."

The four of us hover in that hallway for far too long. Whatever else is said, it slips right through me. I don't have a physical body anymore. I'm still floating, soaring, on that cloud of perfect joy.

Faith loves me. I love her.

And together, one day soon, we'll be a pack.