Chapter 6: Facts

Lucas

"What do you mean you don't know? It's your last name, how do you not know that?" I ask, letting the frustration bubble out into my tone. She continues to stare past me, like she usually does. Her expression is void of emotion, and I genuinely don't understand it. The difference between the girl I was about to kill in the forest and this shell of a wolf.

"I just don't remember, Alpha. I apologize if this inconveniences you-" she starts to say, but I stand quickly, letting my frustration get the better of me. 

"Inconvenience? Are you fucking kidding me? I should have just left you in those woods," I shout at her, and hear the bustling kitchen silent at my outburst. When I say the last words, I point my hand towards her accusatively. When I do, she moves her head to the side in a swift movement, as though she expected me to hit her. 

I am not sure why, but the movement irritated me more when I hear her heart beat flickering with anxious pounds. 

"Get up," I tell her, reaching down and grabbing ahold of her shoulder to pull her off the couch. She makes a small noise of discomfort, but replaces it with a bite to her lower lip. 

"We brought you back here. Be thankful you fucking rodent. I should kill you just for being the mutt you are," I tell her with my hand squeezing into her shoulder. She seems to be holding her breath as I speak. 

"If you're going to stay here, you're going to work as a maid just like the omegas. Maybe I'll think about letting you have a room instead of the dungeons here. Not like you have a wolf anyway," I tell her, even though I would never put a wolf out of their quarters. Not unless they committed a crime against the pack. Regardless, her eyes flick to mine in plea. She doesn't say anything, and I swear I can feel her skin becoming cold under my touch. 

I throw her shoulder from my grip and watch her gaze go back to landing past me. She is an infuriating creature. When I clench my fist closed to reel in my anger, I feel moisture on my fingers, and I bring them up to look at them. 

They are coated in blood, and I look down at her black t-shirt I had laid on her bed this morning while she showered. The shoulder I had been grabbing appears damp, and I take a breath in to smell the blood seeping from her wound. 

"Fuck, the arrow," I say, reminding myself of it. Why didn't she fucking say anything? Now I feel like an asshole.

"Come with me," I tell her, and she follows behind me as I lead her out of the house, into the pack community. Cobblestone pathways interweave between the homes and businesses that are all occupied and run by wolves in the pack. To any human who stumbles upon the community, it is just another small Alaskan mountain village. 

I take her to the far end of the community, to a small log cabin.

"Rebecca, I need you to take care of her," I say to the short blonde woman sitting in the chair in the empty waiting room. She jumps to her feet in excitement. 

"Yay! Oh lord, I am literally dying of boredom, Luke," she says in a high-pitched voice that has both Jane and me cringing at the sound. She takes Jane by the hand and nearly skips to the back patient exam room. I follow them, for some reason that I can't explain. 

I can blame it on the guilt from making her shoulder bleed again. 

Standing in the doorway, Rebecca asks Jane what is bothering her, clearly not taking the time to smell the bloody air that wafts around us. I do have to admit, the scent of frost and lemon that Jane emits is captivating. Much better than the deathly scent she had yesterday. 

Jane doesn't answer the question. Instead, she turns and looks directly at me, as though she wants me to answer for her. When I don't say anything, she turns back to Rebecca nervously. I can hear her heart rate speeding faster as the silence stretches on, and she swallows nervously. What is wrong with this girl?

"Her shoulder. There's an arrow in it." I answer for her, but my irritation at doing so drips with every word. Rebecca's eyes widen as she looks down to where the black shirt appears damp. 

"Oh my God. What the hell happened for her to get an arrow in her shoulder, Luke?" She says with an accusing glare in my direction. Again, I wait for Jane to answer, but her gaze is studying the floor with intensity. I let out a sigh before answering. 

"She's from the Montana pack. They had some-" I have to pause to think of the best way to put it. 

"Issues with her," I say, unsure if that is the best way to put it. 

"Why? What's wrong with her?" Rebecca asks, now uncaring that Jane is in the room with us, and she could be asking her those questions. She uses a device to check Jane's eyes and ears as we talk, before getting the blood pressure machine out to use. 

"She's a mutt," I say, but Jane's words bring both of us out of the conversation instantly. 

"What is that?" Her voice is panic-stricken, and her eyes are wide at the machine Rebecca had rolled to her side. Both of us stare at her like she has lost her mind before Rebecca finally finds her composure. 

"It's for taking your vitals. Have you ever been to the doctor?" She asks, a lot more calmly than I would have. 

"I-it's been a while," she says in a whisper while her eyes never leave the machine. 

"How long is a while, Jane?" I ask in my rough tone. Her eyes flick to mine for only a moment before she returns her gaze to the floor. 

"I was 11, I think," her voice is so quiet, like she is afraid to fill the silence in the small room. 

"And how old are you now?" Rebecca asks for me. Jane seems to stop breathing at the question, like she wasn't sure of the answer. 

"24, I think."