27. Wisteria

At first, I'm terrified that Eli won't make it.

I've never seen anything like it. My mind can't fully wrap itself around the extremity of the injuries he has when I see him stumbling up the stairs, can't catalog them all. There's very little of him that isn't bruised–turned black and blue with it–and the rest is abraded, cut…his entire body ravaged.

He should be in a hospital. There's no question about it. But I know Eli well enough now to know that he's too stubborn to listen. And when he digs his heels in, I know there's little chance of arguing with him.

I could have called an ambulance, once he passed out. But instead, I decided to do as he asked. And I decided to stay with him, and take care of him myself.

Penelope brings me the things I asked for. And as I clean him up, my heart wrenching as I wash the blood away and see the extent of how badly he'd been hurt, I have to make a decision.

My magic can help. I know it can. It can't heal him completely, or repair everything that's happened to him, but it can do enough to keep him alive. In fact, it won't even do so much that he'll realize something strange has happened.

But it will help. And I know, as guilty as it makes me feel, that there's really only one choice.

He doesn't know what I am. He can't tell me if he would want magic used on him or not. But I can't see him like this, and not do everything in my power to help.

Penelope can tell what I'm going to do. I can see it in her face. But she doesn't say anything to reprimand me, or suggest otherwise. She just tells me to call her if I need her, and leaves. Her magic isn't much good here–and she knows that I might need her to look after the shop, while I take care of Eli for a day or two. She can help me best by going home and getting some sleep.

The ointment is herbal, infused with magic when it was made. As Eli lies on the bed, half-unconscious, I spread it over every bruise, every cut, every wound and abrasion. And I whisper the spell that goes along with it under my breath, my fingers sweeping over his skin, letting my magic sink into him a little at a time.

I've never done this before for someone else. I wondered if I would be able to do it at all. Back in Seattle, when I would get sick, I would try to use it on myself. There in the city, with my magic so dimmed, it was difficult. But here–

Here, I feel it flare within me the moment I call on it, a gentle warmth spreading through my veins, my limbs, over my skin, into my fingers. I spread it over Eli along with the ointment, letting my fingers rest on him briefly as I move them over his body, healing him a little at a time. Not much–but enough to bring him back from the brink. Enough to ease the pain.

I see his eyes flicker open for just a moment, meeting mine, and my heart wrenches in my chest. I have no idea if he will forgive me, if he ever finds out about this. No idea if he would forgive the secret I've kept from him for too long now.

I tell myself that at least, because I hadn't told him yet, I'm here now to use it. To keep him alive.

The feeling that wells up in my chest is one I can't give a name to. It's too close, too frightening, too much for what's happening right now. I ignore it, focusing on what I'm doing, mapping the body I've learned so well with my hands as I whisper, again and again, the spell that I memorized years ago.

It takes everything out of me. I can feel my energy sapping along with my reserves of magic, sinking into Eli, feeding his healing. I crawl into bed next to him, feeling that exhaustion crowd in as I take his hand. Whatever I might have left, I hope, he'll feel as we both sleep. And when we wake, things will be better.

I have to believe that. I have to believe he'll make it through.

I can't think about the consequences of all this right now. I'll fall apart if I do.

It's late morning when I wake up again, feeling as if my head is full of cotton. I feel a spike of fear the instant I open my eyes, pushing myself up on one elbow to look at Eli and see if he's still breathing.

He is, his broad chest slowly rising and falling–shallow, but there. The bruising looks a bit better where I applied the ointment–the dark blue and black beginning to fade into green and purple, the abrasions and cuts less red and angry. Nothing so drastic that he would know for sure that I used magic on him, but enough to make him feel better.

I sit up, breathing in deeply, trying to assess if I have enough energy to do it once more before he wakes up. I reach for the ointment, feeling the familiar warmth spread through me that lets me know I have at least a little bit of magical reserves left.

Slowly, I spread it over his skin again, repeating what I did last night to the best of my ability. I've nearly finished when I see his eyes flicker open, and my hands go still on his chest.

"Wisteria." My name comes out as a hoarse rasp–not the thick sound of desire that I'm used to hearing, but a rusty groan that tells me he's still in pain. "You're still here."

"I wasn't going to leave you." I get up, wiping the last of the ointment off of my hands with a cloth. "I'm going to make that tea I promised you last night. It will help with the pain."

Eli manages the smallest of smiles, his lower lip still split and swollen. "My own private herbalist." His handsome face moves a little with the expression, but he winces, sinking back against the pillows. "I didn't–want you to see me like this."

"Why not?" I get up, feeling an ache settle in my chest, a sense of foreboding. I reach up, gently brushing his hair away from his forehead in a spot where he's uninjured. "I'm glad I was here to take care of you. If I hadn't been–"

A shudder goes through me, imagining him here alone last night, dirty and leaking blood from a dozen wounds, dragging himself into his room only to pass out alone. "We've been doing this long enough now that I don't think I have to pretend that I don't care about you," I tell him firmly. "That could have been so much worse if you were alone."

Eli nods slowly, closing his eyes. When I come back up from the lobby of the Lodge with hot water to make the tea, I think for a moment that he's fallen asleep again. But as I finish brewing it, he opens his eyes again.

I sit on the edge of the bed, handing him the cup. "Can you hold it?" I ask, and he nods.

"I'm hurt, but I'm not that far gone." He winces as he sits up enough to take a drink. "Actually, I feel a little better than I thought I would, if I made it through the night. Whatever you used on me must be magic."

I'm lucky that he takes a sip of the tea just as he says it, because he misses the way I flinch. I know he didn't mean it literally, but–

There was magic in it. And I have no idea what his reaction would be if he found out.

Eli makes a face as he swallows the tea. "That's foul," he manages. "No offense to you, darlin'. But I hope it helps, because I don't wanna drink any more of that than I have to."

I manage a small smile. "It'll help," I promise. "It's a natural painkiller. I've drunk it plenty of times."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Eli meets my eyes, and even in this moment, I feel my pulse flutter. "Thank you, Wisteria," he says slowly, his voice turning serious. "You didn't have to do–any of this."

"Are you going to tell me what happened, eventually?" I ask, biting my lip. "I don't want to pry for something you don't want to talk about, but–"

"Are you gonna tell me why you were waitin' outside my room?" Eli raises an eyebrow. "Especially when I thought we agreed it was safer for you to keep clear of me yesterday."

I can feel my cheeks heat. "Maybe," I manage, and I see that tiny flicker of a smile on his mouth again.

"We can talk about it later," he reassures me, closing his eyes again. "Right now, to be honest, I don't know that I can talk much about anything. My ribs hurt. Although–" He takes an experimental breath. "Once again, not as much as I thought they would."

I feel a twinge of guilt, deep down. I know exactly why he's not in as much pain as he thought he would be. But I can't regret helping him, or easing his pain. Not when I feel the way I do about him.

I lean forward impulsively, kissing an uninjured spot on his forehead before taking the cup and pulling away. "Get some more rest," I tell him gently. "I'll be here when you wake up. Penelope and Delia are handling the shop for me today. I don't need to go back until tomorrow."

Eli nods, and I can tell the tea is having the sleep-inducing effect that it usually does. His head drifts to one side as he falls back to sleep, and I stretch out next to him, dread tightening my throat.

I want him to stay. I'm beginning to want it more than I knew it was possible to want anything. But if he chooses to stay after the new year, I'm going to have to tell him the truth.

And I have no idea what happens then.

—

Eli sleepsthrough most of the day. I nap next to him again, go down to get something to eat and bring soup back up to the room for him when he wakes up, and take a long bath. I make him another cup of tea at lunchtime, which he reluctantly drinks, and then falls asleep again. It leaves me with a lot of time to think–more than I want, really.

I'm afraid to even think to myself that I love him. But the simple fact of it is that it's easy for me to imagine a life with him. Every time he's in my home, every time he's stayed the night, it feels as if he belongs there. It feels easy, natural, with none of the awkwardness or pitfalls that I imagined would come with having someone else in my space when I never have before.

I'm not an idiot. I know if we took it further–if we ever lived together, for example–there would be difficult moments. I know if we're together long enough, we'll argue. But I can't help feeling that for the first time, I've found someone with whom those would be small hurdles to get past, not impassable road blocks.

Except for the one glaring thing that stands in our way. The thing that now, I'm afraid, has crossed over from a secret to a lie.

I close my eyes as I sink down into the bath. I don't know if I wish I had told him sooner. If the worst happened, and he wanted nothing more to do with me, it's hard to wish away all the happiness, all the pleasure, all the time we've spent together. I've experienced things with him that I never have before, and probably never will again.

You'll have to tell him. Sooner rather than later.If nothing else, he's liable to mention my name to someone eventually who knew my aunt, or who knows I'm a part of the Bayton coven, and the jig will be up. Only Eli's natural aversion to conversation with others who aren't Adam, or customers, has protected me so far, I think.

When he's better,I tell myself. We'll sit down, and I'll explain why I was afraid, and I'll confess everything. And it will be alright, one way or another. Except, from the way my chest tightens painfully and tears burn the backs of my eyes at the thought of him rejecting me, I know it won't be alright if the worst happens.

It will hurt, for a long time.

By the time it gets dark and Eli wakes up again, he's ravenous. "I spent the whole day after the moon knocked out," he says, his voice rusty. "And all I've had since then is soup and tea. I need something heartier than that."

"I'll go down and see what I can order from the kitchen." I get up, looking for the change of clothes Penelope brought me when she brought over the ointment and tea. "We could both use some dinner, probably."

"And I could use a shower." Eli pushes himself up, wincing. "Shifters heal faster than humans, but damn. I feel a lot better than I thought I would, even if I still feel like I've been run over by three trucks." He turns this way and that, testing it. "If I could go out in the woods and shift, it'd help. But I didn't recover enough from the full moon shift to be able to, right now."

I frown, curious. "You can't shift at all right now?"

"I could, technically, but I'd probably hurt myself. I'm too depleted still." Eli gets up, and I wince at the sight of his body, still covered in bruises. He's mottled green and purple and yellow, barely an inch of his skin left untouched, and I wonder all over again what could have happened to him.

"I'll go get us food." I need some space, before I blurt out what I did out of sheer guilt, if nothing else. For him to be able to move this well so soon, my magic must have worked better than I thought it could.

When I get back to the room, fried chicken BLTs and homemade potato chips in hand, Eli is still in the shower. The room is warm and humid from the hot water, the forest scent of him filling it, overpowering the medicinal, herbal smell leftover from what I used to treat him. I arrange our dinner on the small table at one side of the room, and turn just in time to see Eli coming out of the bathroom stark naked, his skin still damp from the shower and his dark hair slicked wetly back against his skull.

My knees go weak with desire, and I sink into one of the chairs, drawing in a shaky breath. Even injured, he's gorgeous to look at. My gaze drags over all that rippling muscle and tawny skin, down to the still-impressive cock nestled between his legs, thick and imposing even when soft.

Eli chuckles hoarsely, and I look up at his face, a little guiltily.

"My eyes are up here." Eli grins. "But I'm glad to see even all beat up, you still want me."

"I don't think anything could make me not want you," I confess.

"That's good to hear." He reaches for a pair of soft sweatpants, dragging them on, and I can't help but look at the way they cling to his hipbones, my pulse fluttering in my throat. "God, Wisteria. I can smell you from over here."

My head jerks up, an embarrassed blush coloring my cheeks, but Eli is looking at me with pure lust. "It's a shame I can't do much about it right now," he says softly. "I'd have you in that bed this second, if I didn't think it might kill me."

"We don't want that." I manage a small laugh, but my voice cracks, and Eli looks at me sharply.

"Wisteria?"

"You scared me," I whisper. "I really thought–" I can't finish the sentence, but Eli reaches over, his hand touching mine comfortingly.

"I guess I need to explain to you what happened." He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, reaching for his sandwich. "I haven't told you a whole lot about what I did before this, but I think you might've caught on that not everythin' I did was entirely legal."

I remember that moment, nearly lying on my front steps with him leaning over me, when he'd alluded to it. "I have some idea. I don't care," I add hastily. "If you're worried about that. I mean–as long as you didn't murder anyone, or anything like that–"

Eli chuckles ruefully. "No, nothin' like that, I can promise you. But just before I came to Bayton, I took a job movin' some drugs for some folks. I thought it was nothin' too major. Some weed, enough to get me in trouble if I got caught, but nothin' else in the shipment but that. Turns out–" His mouth twists grimly, and I understand immediately what he means.

"There was something else in it."

"Yeah." He runs a hand through his hair. "Some harder drugs, as it turns out. I got pinched, and arrested for it. I thought I was done for–nothin' the law likes better than a perfectly good excuse to cage up a shifter. But as it turns out, my public defender was fresh out of college and full of enthusiasm. He convinced the judge I didn't know a thing about what I was runnin', and got me off with just a fine."

"That's impressive."

"It was," Eli agrees. "I thought it might be a good idea for me to lay low for a bit, though. So I called up Adam. He'd offered me a job bartendin' a while back. Asked him if the offer was still good, and–" He shrugs. "Well, the rest is history."

"So what does that have to do with all of this?" I gesture at his bruised and scraped chest, and Eli winces.

"Well, it seems me clearin' out of town wasn't good enough for the folks that I did that job for. When I didn't report back in, they got a little jumpy. Got my number and started makin' threats. I told them I wasn't a snitch, and they didn't have anythin' to be worried about. That I washed my hands of the whole thing and was gonna be movin' on. But that wasn't good enough either, I guess. So they followed me here. Planned it for right after the full moon, so I'd be weak." Eli draws in a slow breath. "I suppose I should be thinkin' about gettin' out of town, in case they have a mind to come back. They could cause trouble for Adam. For you."

I feel an instant spike of fear, pain stabbing in my chest. "You're not supposed to leave until at least January," I whisper, and Eli rubs a hand over the back of his neck.

"Well, I suppose some of it will have to do with what Adam says. But to tell the truth, I don't think they will come back. They left me for dead, and I imagine they're sure enough of themselves that they think they finished the job."

"Right." I take a slow breath, trying to calm myself down. "So you don't need to leave."

Eli raises an eyebrow. "You're not worried?"

"I–" I swallow hard. "No. Like you said. They did enough. They probably won't bother you again–"

"You don't know anythin' about people like this," he points out, and I nod.

"I don't. But–you don't want to keep running, do you? This isn't even you choosing to leave and move on, it's them running you off. Do you really want that?"

"No." Eli leans back, his gaze steady on mine. "Wouldn't be the first time I've been run out of a town, though. Hasn't happened often, but–" His mouth twitches, and I can see him thinking. "Why were you here, anyway? We agreed you'd stay away, until the rut passed. So why'd you show up here askin' to be let up to my room?" He frowns. "If I'd come back all in one piece, and found you waitin' for me–"

"I know." I whisper it, my cheeks flushing hotly. Eli sees it, and his eyes narrow.

"Elaborate, Wisteria," he says, and there's something heavy in his voice that unsettles me.

"I–I was going to do what we agreed. I did, for those few days before, even though I missed you. I told you I did."

"And I told you I missed you too. But Wisteria–"

"The night of the full moon–" My face feels like it's on fire, but I know I need to explain this, at least. "I felt like—I don't even know how to explain it. I wanted you so badly. Like every time we've been together, magnified. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I–" I swallow hard, unable to quite look him in the eye as I keep talking, even with everything we've done together. "I tried to–take care of it, myself. But it wasn't enough. I must have come three or four times, thinking about you, and I still felt like I was going crazy. I needed you. And I thought if I showed up here–we could figure something out. I could…I don't know, tie you up or something, so I'd be in control and you couldn't hurt me the way you were worried you might. It felt like a compulsion, almost. I've never felt that way before with anyone. I didn't really understand, but I couldn't stand the thought of you here alone, taking care of the rut yourself, when I could be here with you–"

I trail off. Eli's face is more serious than I've ever seen it. There's no humor in his expression, or lust. Only confusion that matches mine, and something else I don't quite understand.

"That doesn't make sense, Wisteria," he says quietly. "What that sounds like–well, that sounds like the female version of what happens to me at the moon. It sounds like heat. And that doesn't happen to a human."

"Can it happen if a human sleeps with a shifter?" I venture. "Like–your pheromones…affected me, or something?"

Eli frowns. "If so, it's not somethin' I've ever heard of." He pauses for a moment, as if he's trying to think of how to say something. "I'm not tryin' to make fun here, Wisteria, or hurt your feelings. But are you maybe exaggeratin' it a little? You wouldn't be the first woman to be enticed by the idea of sleepin' with a shifter in rut, you know–"

"It's not that," I snap, instantly jealous at the thought of any other woman wanting to spend the day after the moon with him, even though I know he's said he isolates himself. "I felt like–like I couldn't help it. Like I'd die if I wasn't here when you got back." I look away when I say it, feeling embarrassed and over-dramatic. But it is how I felt. And the way Eli is looking at me makes me wish I hadn't said anything at all. "Are you angry with me?"

"No," he says quietly. "I'm not. I might've been, if you'd just ignored what we talked about and came up here anyway, puttin' yourself at risk. But you've never lied to me before, and I don't think you're startin' now."

Guilt washes over me, hot and thick, and tears prick at the backs of my eyes.

"That bein' said," Eli continues, "It doesn't make any sense, Wisteria. You're human. This kinda thing isn't supposed to happen to you. If I didn't know any better–" He lets out a slow breath. "I'd think it was that goddamned mate bond. But there's no way."

The mate bond. I should feel an instant panic, at the idea of being cosmically bound to someone without having any say in the matter. But I'm not, because it isn't just someone. It's Eli, and the idea of being bonded to him doesn't scare me the way it probably should.

"But you said that's not possible." I swallow hard. "Why does the idea of it upset you so much, though? Every time you talk about that type of bond it's with such–disdain. What if it was with someone you…wanted?" I can't say loved. I can't even hint at the feeling that's wrapped itself around my heart, that I can't even admit to myself.

"Because it ruins people's lives." Eli's jaw tightened. "I had a pack once, you know. I was born into one. Grew up the way all shifter children should. Lovin' parents, close-knit pack, all of it. My parents were mate bonded–but the ordinary kind. The kind you choose. And then one day, out of the blue, the other kind hit my mama. Wasn't even a shifter from the outside, either. It was the pack alpha."

His face is taut with anger, and I stare at him, startled by the force of the anger in his words. "Oh, Eli."

"They gave in to it. So far as I can tell, they didn't try real hard not to, although I'm sure there was shit I wasn't privy to. Still, it tore my family apart. Tore my pack apart. And I left. I've never run with a pack since. And that's why–"

"That's why you don't stay." The words come out as a whisper, a sudden understanding of Eli hitting me, like a few missing puzzle pieces snapping into place. "Why you just sleep with someone and move on."

"I don't want to be bonded to anyone without choosin' it," Eli says, his voice a low, angry rasp. "Don't want it at all, to tell you the truth. And I sure as hell don't want to be responsible for tearin' apart someone's marriage, or family, or pack, because I got hit with somethin' I didn't have any say in. So I just don't stick around long enough to have it hit me, or try not to, anyway. And so far, it's worked out just fine."

Tears well up in my eyes–for him, and for myself. For him, because he hasn't been choosing to be on the move all his life. He's been on the run from something outside his control. And for myself, because even though it's impossible for us, hearing him say he doesn't want any kind of mate bond feels like claws tearing through my heart. Like hearing a man tell you he doesn't ever want to get married–not to you, not to anyone. "You're not going to stay, then, are you?" I whisper, and I can feel the tears spill over. "You were never really going to. You would have left again–"

"Hell, Wisteria, I don't know." Eli runs his hand through his hair, and I can see the pain in his face, the struggle. My heart aches for him, but it's aching for me, too. For both of us. For the us that I now see is utterly impossible.

Even if I weren't a witch.

"I wanted to try," he says. "But whatever this is that's happenin' with us–it's somethin' strange. Somethin' that doesn't make sense. I was willin' to look past how I felt with you, even though it was out of the ordinary. I like it, to tell you the truth, and that made me complacent. But you're feelin' things you shouldn't. And I need some time to think." He looks at me, and his face tightens with pain. "Shit, Wisteria, don't cry."

"Are you breaking up with me?" My voice rises, breaks, and I hate myself for getting so emotional. You were always going to lose him! I shout at myself, somewhere in the back of my mind. You always knew this would happen!

But it doesn't make it easier.

"No, I'm–" Eli lets out a breath. "Shit, I don't know how to do this right. I need a little time to think, that's all."

"So we're taking a break." I would laugh if it didn't feel like my heart was breaking. If I didn't feel like an idiot for caring so much, when I always knew this was the inevitable end, one way or another. If i didn't feel so guilty for having this conversation at all, when Eli should be resting.

"Wisteria." Eli lets out a breath. "I just need to think. That's all. There's somethin' strange about this. This won't be the last time we're together. I promise. Just give me a little time to figure this out."

I swallow hard, nodding. "So–"

"You should probably go home tonight." He tries to smile at me, as if to soften the blow, but I bite my lip, feeling more tears spill down my cheeks. "I'm no good to you in this state anyway."

"I don't care if we have sex." I wipe at my face, realizing too late that saying that tells him more than I want to about how I feel about him. "I was just going to stay with you. Make sure you're okay–"

"I'll be alright," Eli promises. "I'll see you in a couple of days, Wisteria, okay? We'll figure this out."

There's no point in arguing. I don't want to be a desperate, pleading woman, begging a man who has told me he needs space to change his mind. But something tells me that it's over. That even if we get a little more time together, this is the beginning of the end.

And it hurts so much more than I thought it would.

I push my untouched food away, getting up. "Alright," I whisper. "I'll go."

"I didn't mean you had to leave right now–" Eli starts to stand up, too, but I shake my head.

"Just–let me know when you're ready to see me again. Or–if you just decide to leave, at least let me know, okay?" I blink back a fresh wave of tears. "Take care of yourself."

Eli starts to say something else, but I don't hear it. I grab my things, heading for the door, desperate to be out of the room–the second time I've left this room like this, feeling bereft after Eli and I have parted ways.

I tell myself I won't let it happen a third time, as I head down the stairs. But I know that's not true.

I'm not strong enough to say no to him, if he comes back. And there's another truth, too, one that makes me burst into tears all over again as soon as I'm out of the Lodge.

I've fallen in love with him.