Blake

She'd had to give them something. Even if her natural instinct was to shy away and block out the misery of her existence with dry humour and her weapons, Blake had known that she'd had to give those wolves something to make them trust her. Because she'd seen the look in Henry's eyes when he'd entered the room. He was debating telling her to leave, to kick her out for hurting his packmates again, and she would be forced to go back home with nothing except a few new scars and a lack of useful intel.

Besides, what did it really matter if she gave these creatures herself. The bits that she kept locked away from most prying eyes. When this whole thing was all over, she would get out, Malachi would come in, and they'd be all dead anyway.

She hadn't just come here for intel on the damned wall and werewolf weaknesses. No, she'd also come here to slaughter that wolf – Victor – and she'd just lost her best chance at it. There was no way now that they would let her get close to him. Not after he attacked her. Red would keep the two of them far, far apart.

Unless she came up with a way to make the fighting seem justified – like she wouldn't do it unless provoked. Even though she still had every intention of finding a way to kill Victor as retribution for what he'd done to her family, she needed to keep the appearance that she bore no ill will towards the wolf – at least until she had a way to bring that wall down and let Malachi in.

Perhaps saving Deacon's miserable life would be an asset – giving Henry some reason to trust her or, at the very least, to keep her around. It didn't matter that she'd saved Deacon with no ulterior motives. Blake had simply seen the tree starting to fall, had seen the wolf lying in the path of impact, and thought that being crushed by a tree would be an utterly miserable way to die.

Retrospectively, Blake probably should have left Deacon where he'd lain since the second he was back on his feet, he'd probably try to kill her again. There had still been murder in Victor's eyes too but Red had defended her. Had raced through the forest to find her and hadn't hesitated to attack her adversary when Victor was ready to deal a death blow. It wasn't the first time Red had protected her, of course. No, he'd been doing that from the moment they'd first met.

Blake still wasn't used to that. She had always been the one who protected others. Even Malachi hadn't ever gone to such lengths to ensure her safety. From the time she'd been confident with a blade and a gun, he'd sent her off into the world without a second thought – glad for another soldier to fight in this war.

Having someone look out for her, guard her, was foreign. And from the glint in Red's eyes now as he stared at her across the exam room...Even drugged up on morphine and half-delirious with blood loss and pain, Blake knew that look was of a man who would fight tooth and claw for her.

"Those scars on your back," Henry started. "You got those when you were a kid?"

Blake swallowed hard and took a breath. One that she needed to compose herself – and also because the doctor had started threading a needle through Blake's skin as she tied her shoulder back together with stitches.

She sensed Red and Monroe staring at her as well but she didn't look away from the Alpha as Henry stood. It was an action was one that demanded attention. There was a piece of dark chestnut hair that was sitting at an awkward angle compared to the rest. He'd been running his fingers through his locks. She focused on it – that strand of hair – as she said. "I told you before. The first hunt is always the worst."

"How old?"

"Eleven."

Red made a choked sound and when she glanced at him, he'd grown pale as death. Before she even had the chance to say a single word, he'd turned on his heel, thrown the door open, and strode from the room. The door slammed against the wall and then swung shut with an echoing bang.

The silence in the room was broken only by the sound of Amanda tugging the needle and thread through Blake's skin, earning the occasional gasp or hiss of pain.

"What happened?" Monroe asked quietly.

Blake only said, "Two werewolves butchered my parents and then they tried to do the same to my brother and I. I kept my brother safe but didn't have enough time to keep myself from harm's way. A hunter had been tracking those wolves down. He saved my life and I followed in footsteps so what happened to me would never happen to another kid."

Henry raised his chin and squared his shoulders. There was a look of understanding in his face that hadn't been there a moment ago, like he'd started to figure her out. "I can issue a command to the pack not to harm you while you're here. Once I order them, no one under my authority can go against that command unless I repeal it. You'd be safe."

"No," Blake cut in, smooth and swift. Amanda, for just a second, paused in what she was doing to gawk at her. "Look, I get what you're trying to do but it will only make things worse here. For everyone. If you order your people not to hurt me, it's just going to make them want to hurt me more and since they won't be able to do that, they'll just try to make my life a living hell. I don't care if they don't like me or don't want me around. I'm here for the humans who didn't get to make it home to their loved ones. That's all. I don't need to be treated like the freaking Queen of Sheba."

"But you need to be alive for that to happen, Blake. And they came close today to killing you." Monroe's voice was guttural, a near-snarl. There was something not quite human about the look on her face.

Amanda finished with her stitching and placed a bandage over the wound on Blake's shoulder. She turned and began pulling out supplies to wrap Blake's broken ribs.

Blake said, "I'm fine. This will heal in a few weeks. Victor and Deacon were probably the two biggest talkers who wanted to hurt me, right? Deacon owes me a life debt and Victor will likely be scared shitless by Red at this point. No one else will try anything or, if they do, Red will rip them to shreds."

Monroe – unusually quiet from her spot by the door – only stared at Blake. "Are you sure? We can't guarantee your safety if Henry doesn't issue a command."

Blake rolled her eyes. "I told you. I'll be fine. I'd be better off if Mr. Alpha here gave me some of my weapons back and didn't confiscate my wolfsbane, but I doubt that will happen."

"No," Henry said and there was a gleam in his eyes that said he respected her for even trying. "But I think that Red should have eyes on you at all times. His or others that he trusts. And if this becomes too dangerous for you and you want to leave, I'll escort you off pack territory myself. For Red's sake, I'll do what I can to keep you safe and I will issue a command if I have to. I'll go speak with him now."

The Alpha exited through the door that Red had left from before Blake even had a chance to respond.

Monroe stayed and took up one of the empty chairs as Amanda helped Blake up into a sitting position so that she could tape her ribs. Blake heard the shock in Amanda's silence when the doctor applied the tape and saw the scars on her back. Their viciousness. A brief hitch in Amanda's breath.

"First time seeing scars like that?" Blake asked as Amanda pressed the tape onto Blake's ribs.

"No," Amanda replied. She came to stand before Blake as she prepared another length of tape. The doctor was a pretty woman, tall and athletic-looking, with curls and eyes that were bright and intelligent. "I mean, yes...Sort of. I saw your scars the last time you were brought in here. During your..."

"Captivity." No point dancing around the issue.

"Yes, then." A tentative smile appeared on the woman's face. "Wolves don't tend to get many scars. We heal too quickly. Usually only in extreme cases or during encounters with hunters that use silver blades. I don't know why but seeing them again just surprised me a little. I didn't expect that you were so young when you received them."

Blake scoffed but the motion stung at her ribs so the sound came out forced. "The doctors said it was probably better that I was so young. Kids apparently bounce back better from extreme trauma. Or at least that's what they told me. For all I know, they could have just been saying that so I didn't freak out as much."

Amanda traced her fingers along the tips of the worst of them – the knot of formerly mangled flesh in the centre of her back. "Is there any lingering pain from this?"

Monroe cocked her head to the side as if she were also interested in the answer. Her blonde curls were limp and, as Blake looked her over, she realized that there was also a hint of red on the ends of her hair. As if some of Blake's blood had gotten on Monroe when she'd rushed to help.

Blake turned back to Amanda as a second strip of tape was applied. "Sometimes. The wounds were bad. A few were close to the bone so I was extremely lucky, all things considered."

"Werewolf claws?"

"And teeth. Not to mention the stairs I got shoved down and the glass coffee table that shattered. A few shards ended up embedded in my arm. The surgeons had to dig them out."

The two other women were quiet at Blake's matter-of-fact tone and neither asked her more questions, lost in thought. After another quarter-hour, Amanda announced that she had done all she could for Blake. She discharged her with a bottle of pain meds and the promise that Blake would take it easy and come back to get the bandage on her shoulder changed in the morning.

Monroe offered Blake the light zip-up sweater she'd been wearing that day and Blake slipped it on, mindful of her shoulder, before they exited the exam room. She swayed on her feet, unsteady, and her head began to spin. It took her a moment for the black spots to clear from her vision. It seemed that the blood loss and pain meds weren't a good combination.

When she regained her balance, she was able to see all the way through the front doors of the clinic. Beyond them, visible through the glass, were Red and Henry. The Alpha looked as if he were consoling his friend but Blake couldn't read the emotion on Red's face. Didn't know if it was anger or pain or something else entirely.

"I understand now," Monroe said to Blake, pausing for just a moment near the doors. "Why you were inclined to attack us before. Why you were so insistent on your silence and hate. I saw your scars before too but...I didn't know you were just a child." She broke off, needing to take a breath. "Then I would say that you're justified in being a hunter. I get it."

"I told you," Blake replied. "I don't hunt innocents."

Truth and lies, lies and truth.

No, she didn't hunt innocents...But she was willing to stand by while Malachi decimated this pack. Used the information she was giving him to exterminate others. She could stand by as he did that – would help him when he did.

Wouldn't she?

Yes, she would. If it would get her Victor's head, she'd do it. Even if others who seemed to be innocent like Monroe and Henry and...Red were harmed.

"Red hasn't really seen them, you know," Monroe said then, interrupting Blake's thoughts. "Your scars. Not the ones on your back. He brought you here when you were nearly dead but waited outside the exam room while you were healed. He wanted to respect your privacy."

Blake started. "Seriously?"

Monroe's mouth tightened. "He knew about them. We told him after we first saw them but the only reason Henry and I even looked at them was because the healers thought it was something we should know about."

She filed that away and only said, "Thank you for helping me today. When Red went for Victor and you came to me...Thank you."

"You know, I really thought that I would hate you. I thought that you would be terrible for Red and I know that once you figure out who our murderer is, you're probably planning on leaving and returning to the hunter lifestyle that you had before. But there's something you should know."

"What's that?"

The corner of Monroe's mouth twitched into a crooked smile. "I think you could actually belong here if you wanted to. The legends state that mate-pairings were usually complementary. That each half fit perfectly with the other. From what I know about you – combined with what I know about Red – I can see how the two of you would work. I guess what I'm trying to say, Blake, is that there's a male here who might be the only person on the entire planet who will ever truly understands you for you. Doesn't that make you the least bit curious?"

Blake glanced from the Beta to outside where Red waited for her. Took in the strong, commanding frame and the dominance in his stance. Also, the nerve jumping in his jaw, the furrow of his brow, and the slight quiver of his lip as he exhaled and spoke to Henry.

Maybe, she thought in response to Monroe's question. A thought she would never dare admit aloud. Maybe it does.

But it didn't matter. Not truly. Because Red would always be a werewolf and she would always be a human. And no matter what, that was one thing that she could never put aside.

Curiosity be damned.  

***

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