Wolver's Reward (24 page)

"Such differences are superficial." The Alpha
brushed the comment off like a piece of lint on his lapel. The
movement caused his swollen leg to spasmed beneath the sheet and he
grimaced. "We all have scars, River," he said when the spasm
subsided.

"Yeah, but these don't come from falling
through..."

The Alpha's face contorted with pain. His
tightly sealed lips couldn't hold back the groan that came with it.
Blood, rust colored and unhealthy looking, seeped through the
covers. The rank odor that pervaded the small space increased in
intensity.

With a shaking hand, Roland pointed to a
stack of towels sitting on the far corner of the bed. "Get me one
of those towels," he ordered through clenched teeth. "Give it
here."

River already had a towel in his hand. He
ignored the Alpha's word of protest and drew the cover back from
the leg.

"Fuck," he muttered when he saw the condition
of the leg and the suppurating wound.

"Quite," the Alpha agreed, "Though if you
stay with my pack, I will insist you not offend our female members
with your, um, more colorful terms."

"Fuck," River said again, not to defy the
Alpha but because he didn't know what to do about the mess in front
of him other than to tuck the towel beneath the leg to protect the
mattress.

He stared at the swollen ball of purpled
flesh that had formed below the knee. It was off to the side and
right above the thickest portion of the calf. Two large and ugly
blisters of the same rusty red color as the blood stood out to the
side of it. The skin was split over a newly opened wound lined with
blackened and dying tissue. Another, healed from above but
blackened beneath, ran perpendicular to it. Below the obvious
wounds, the leg was swollen to twice its normal size and showed
signs of discoloration.

Smell and sight combined to bring the long
buried memory into focus.

The Mate was worried and with good cause. The
Alpha was going to die if something wasn't done and it could
already be too late.

River grabbed another towel and soaked it
with water from the sink in the corner of the room. As gently as he
could, he began wiping away the oozing mess.

"You didn't get this falling through a
floor."

"Who told you I fell?"

"Does it matter? This isn't a broken bone."
River leaned in close to the leg, searching but not finding the
evidence he needed.

"I am not in the habit of lying. I've never
suffered a broken bone before, but I can categorically confirm it
happened. I felt it quite clearly and painfully when I landed in
the rubble of that cellar."

It could happen, River supposed; a
frightening and disorienting fall, a moment of panic, a jarring and
painful landing in the cellar of an old and abandoned house. "Stone
cellar, dirt floor?" he asked and the Alpha confirmed it.

"Yes, how did you know?"

River looked up at the Alpha and caught sight
of the window that caused it all. It was pretty, but not worth the
price.

"Because I was going to live in one, sir,
until I lit a fire."

He'd thought it would be a safe place to hole
up. The cellar of the old and crumbling house was chilly and damp,
but sheltered from the rain and wind. It was only a week after he'd
grabbed up the pups and ran. He had no idea what he was doing or
where he was running. They were tired, cold, and hungry and he
needed a place where they could hide while he went in search of
food. He needed a place that was warm and dry, a place where he
could think once he had them fed.

He'd bedded the pups down, then gathered what
was burnable, and lit a small fire. It wasn't a big cellar and it
wasn't long before it was warm. River never knew where it came
from. His back was turned when it fell from the rafters or
slithered from its den in the wall, seeking the heat. It landed on
Skeeter, a pup not much older than Meadow who was two. River heard
the pup's cry, saw him flail his little arm. He made a grab for it,
but it was too late. Too tiny holes had pierced the pup's neck.
River chased it to a corner and killed it and then killed another.
Copperheads always seemed to travel in pairs.

There was no way to sugar coat it. "You've
been snake bit, Alpha. That's the poison in your leg. I've seen it
before. I know."

He knew because he'd watched Skeeter's neck
swell up the same way. There was nothing River could do except hold
the pup's hand as his air was cut off and he struggled to breathe.
And then the struggle was over. The poison had reached his heart.
Amazingly, the others slept through it, all except Meadow who'd
watched from the corner where he'd made her bed. In silence, she
watched Skeeter die, and in silence, she watched River carry him
out into the cold and rainy night and return without her little
friend.

Meadow never made a sound again and never
slept alone again. Each night after that, she curled her tiny body
into River's, seeking his comfort and comforting him in return.
Skeeter's death was one of the things he remembered and tried so
hard to forget.

At River's pronouncement, Roland lay back
against the pillows and closed his eyes. His breath left him in one
long hiss. For a moment, when his chest didn't rise on the intake,
River thought the words were all that was needed to kill him, but
the Alpha gulped in another breath and his chest rose with it.

"That's it, then," he said without opening
his eyes. "There's nothing to be done."

River had also known a wolver who'd lost half
his hand to the bite of a rattler, or so he claimed. He'd described
the result in great and gory detail. He claimed he was saved by
cutting the poisoned flesh away. He said it took weeks to heal.
River didn't know if the story was true, but the description
matched the Alpha's leg.

"There is something you can try, sir, but
there's no guarantee it'll work."

Roland lifted his head. "Some hope is better
than none at all. What is it you have in mind?"

Chapter 18

Darla and River no sooner left than someone
else knocked at the door. Reb reluctantly left the bed, taking the
sheet with her. She opened the door a crack and wasn't surprised to
see who it was.

Celia didn't wait for an invitation. She
pushed her way in. She took one look Reb and said, "Well?"

The others crowded in after her and Arnold
closed the door.

"How was he?" he asked and then sputtered a
correction. "I mean, how are you?"

"Wonderful." Reb didn't bother to hide her
grin. "Spectacular. Amazing. Breathtaking. Splendid.
Outstanding..."

"Oh dear," Lawrence interrupted with a
worried frown at his partner.

"Uh-oh," Celia said at the same time. "I knew
this would happen. It always does when they wait too long."

Rosemary fanned herself with her hand as sat
on the edge of the bed. "I feel faint."

"Why?" Celia was laughing. "Because you've
waited too long? Because Reb's feeling wonderful, amazing, and
splendid? Or because River is a spectacular, breathtaking, and
outstanding lover?"

"All three?" Both hands continued to fan.

Lawrence took a step forward and held out a
calming hand. "After the first time, it isn't unusual, Rebecca, for
one to mistake these euphoric feelings for..."

"Don't, Lawrence." Reb raised a warning
finger and wagged it along with the words as she spoke. "Don't you
dare lecture me on first time feelings. Don't forget, I know how
many males you slept with before you met Arnold. Zero, wasn't it?
So don't you dare try to take this away from me." She included the
two women and Arnold in her glare. "If I feel wonderful, amazing,
and splendid, it's because River made me feel this way, and I've
never felt this way before. I'm beautiful. Did you know that? River
told me so."

The three exchanged wary glances. Rosemary
kept fanning.

"Of course we knew, dear. You've always been
beautiful."

"You'd have to say that, Arnold. You love me.
It's different when someone who..." Reb felt a pinch near her heart
at what she'd been about to say. "Oh, never mind. I have laundry to
do." She waved an imperious hand and twirled away.

And tripped over the trailing sheet.

Regaining her balance and what little was
left of her dignity, she spied a pillow that had fallen to the
floor, picked it up, and stripped away the case. She began filling
it with River's pile of dirty clothing.

Celia walked across the room and plucked the
pink undies from the lampshade. "You want these, or were you using
them for ambiance?"

Reb poked out her chin and wrinkled her nose.
"Very funny," she said, but then she laughed. "We needed something
to distract us from the hula girls on the wall."

Celia tossed her the slacks that lay on the
floor by the same lamp.

"Our hula girls are much bigger than yours.
Actually, they're hula guys," Rosemary offered. She raised her
arms, bent at the elbows and wrists, in a muscleman pose. "Uga,
uga, ugly."

Arnold rolled his eyes at the horror of the
scene. "They're smiling, and their teeth..." He spread his thumb
and forefinger as wide as they could go. "Their teeth are this
long. I thought for sure they were going over the moon, assuming
that big, round ball with the crooked eyes and horrid nose is the
moon."

"If I ever look like that when I shift, just
shoot me, Arnold."

"In a heartbeat, Law. In a heartbeat."

"Just what does that mean, Arnold?"

"One brassiere, coming up." Celia tossed the
bra to Reb. "You really did have a good time, didn't you?"

"I did, Ce, I really, really did." Reb closed
her eyes in remembrance. When she opened them again, she took one
last glance around and snatched her inside out blouse from the
pillow on the unused bed. Hefting her stuffed pillowcase she asked,
"Does anyone have any change? Those machines usually take only
quarters and all I have are bills."

"Darling," Lawrence left off his bickering to
answer. "Don't you think you'd better change? Togas are so
passé.

Reb looked down at her sheet and laughed
self-consciously. "Brain fog, I must be hungry."

She grabbed some clothes from her bag and
headed for the bathroom to shower and change.

"What on earth is brain fog?" she heard
Rosemary ask.

"I have no idea," Celia laughed, "But I'll
wager hunger isn't the cause."

Her mother was making up the bed when Reb
came out showered, hair combed, and fully dressed.

Margaret chose to misinterpret her daughter's
look. She waved her hand at the bed. "I know, I know. They have
staff to take care of this, but I never could abide an unmade
bed."

"Mother, what are you doing here? I told you
not to interfere. I meant it."

Her mother smiled. "River sent me. He said
you might like the company and I could use some rest. Arnold said
he and the others would take care of your laundry. Do you have
laundry, Becky?"

"No, mother, you know I don't. It's River's.
He doesn't have all that much and what he has needed to be washed.
Since he was busy with Father, I thought I'd..."

"Take care of him. I know. Becky..." It was a
hesitant pause and Reb interjected before she could continue.

"And that's another thing, Mother. I spoke of
it before, but now you must listen. I'm not Becky. I know you loved
the book and named me for her and I know you wanted a Becky of your
own, but I'm not her, and I can't be her. I've tried and it doesn't
work for me. I'm not a Becky Thatcher."

Becky Thatcher cried all the time.

"And River is no Tom Sawyer."

Reb laughed at that. "Huck Finn perhaps, but
definitely not Tom."

"And what happens when Huck Finn breaks your
heart?"

"He won't," Reb wanted to say, but she knew
that wasn't true. In a few short days, River would be gone and her
heart would break into pieces. She knew this and so did her
wolf.

Would she survive it? She would. She was no
Becky Thatcher. She was destined to be a Mate. With a good Alpha by
her side, and the help of his magic touch, she'd survive. She'd
bear his pups and grow old and gray with him. She'd learn to love
her Alpha. She'd be a good Mate. She'd mend those broken pieces of
her heart, but one of them would always belong to River.

"River and I both know what my future holds,
Mother. Think of this as a life lesson that will make me a more
understanding Mate." Surprised by the inner calm she felt, Reb
continued with something she should have said a long time ago.
"This isn't me acting out. This isn't a tantrum, though it is a
rebellion of sorts. This is me saying I'm an adult and for better
or worse, I make my own choices."

"So be it, Rebecca, but don't say you weren't
warned."

"I won't."

How could she, when the warning flashers had
been going off in her head ever since she hit him with her bat?

~*~

River had to admit he'd had his doubts about
the first family of the Sweet Valley pack. He'd seen them as weak
and incompetent. He still thought the Alpha was wrong in his
insistence that all wolvers were good at heart. If life hadn't
shown that to him, then the Chase disaster should have. Roland
might talk like a wise old Alpha, but when it came to his fellow
wolvers, he was just like his daughter. He was a babe in the woods,
though nowhere near as sexy. Nevertheless, in the past hour, the
three had shown a strength River never would have expected.

Darla was sent to fetch Margaret and Reb.
Holding hands, Mate and daughter presented a composed and united
front as they crossed the parking lot. They even stopped to smile
and speak their reassurances to the few who sought it. Reb looked
as calm as her mother, and that calmness was projected onto the
other females who were close enough to feel it.