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1643 Words
Elise’s POV “You can leave now,” I said, my voice sharp with anger. I noticed Lucian and Connor exchange a glance. Finally, Connor stepped forward. “Let me help you, Eli. I’ll take you to the bed.” I rejected him as soon as he tried to lift me. “I can do it myself. I could’ve climbed out the window too,” I snapped, my eyes burning with fury as they locked onto Lucian’s. I had heard him clearly when he said it was impossible for me to have left the room. “Now go.” Without wasting another second, they both left, wisely avoiding pushing my patience any further. Using my arms, I pushed myself toward the bed. As I tried to pull myself up, I felt the sting in the muscles of my arms. I was starting to use them more than ever before. I would have to get used to it—depending on them more and more. With one determined grip, I hoisted myself up. I adjusted myself and lay back, staring up at the ceiling. It had happened. I’d been rejected by the man I was supposed to marry in just a few days, the man who was supposed to mark me as his mate, and I, him. We would have shown everyone who we were—that we belonged to each other, bound forever by the mark of mates. That future was gone now. No wedding. No mark. No mates. I stayed like that, flat on my back, my gaze lost in the ceiling, until the shadows began to retreat with the light of the approaching dawn. I had made a decision. I couldn’t lie in that hospital bed a moment longer. I needed to take back my life and show everyone that, despite my new condition, I was stronger now than I’d ever been. My eyes shifted to the closet, where I assumed some clothes were waiting for the day they’d discharge me. Well, I’d discharge myself. I was leaving the hospital that morning. I got out of bed—this time with more grace than the first attempt, no longer like a rag doll. It was time to start developing skills I never would’ve acquired if not for the silver bullet lodged in my spine. I reached for the clothes I needed, my arm muscles protesting with little pulls as I pushed them harder than usual. The pain would fade. The strength would remain. I chose a pullover that could cover my face when I left. Pulling it on was easy, but putting on the pants was a different story. My legs were nothing but dead weight that I had to wrestle into the fabric, but I managed. Once dressed, my eyes fell on the window. Now I would prove them wrong. I had to carry the wheelchair, knowing I would need it once I got outside. Opening the window, I climbed up, holding the wheelchair in one hand while gripping the ledge with the other. Descending three floors with a wheelchair on my shoulder and no use of my legs was going to be a real challenge. I took a deep breath. I had to do this. I had to prove them wrong… The door to the room opened before I could hear Connor’s approach. “Eli! What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?” “I’m leaving. I need to get to the training grounds, and I’m not going through the main hospital entrance. I don’t want him to see me.” Connor walked to the window and grabbed the wheelchair from my arm. The moment he took that weight from me, I realized the stupidity of what I was about to do—but, of course, I wasn’t going to admit that. “I could’ve made it down.” Connor let out an exasperated huff, fixing me with a look full of understanding. “Look, I know Lucian’s being an i***t. I won’t deny it. I hate him for this right now too, but—” “You’re his Beta. I know. You don’t have to explain.” I cut him off, my tone firm. “Dad was his father’s Beta, and I know he did plenty of stupid things for him. Mom and he fought about it more than once.” “And I understand you too, Eli. I know you don’t want to see him, but this…” Connor’s gaze dropped to the three-story drop I had been about to attempt with only one hand while carrying a wheelchair. “Let’s go. I’ll cover for you so you can leave without taking that risk.” It was good to have a brother as understanding as Connor, even if his loyalty ultimately lay with Lucian. I got into the wheelchair and left the room after Connor had gone ahead. I passed right by him as he spoke to Lucian to distract him. I exited the hospital through the main entrance, the hood of my pullover pulled over my face, covering every inch. It wasn’t just Lucian or the doctors who might recognize me; pack members could see me too, and I wasn’t ready to answer awkward questions. I rolled myself toward the training grounds, just like I would have done on any normal day. By the time I arrived, after what felt like the longest fifteen blocks of my life, I saw Lena and Riley. They spotted me immediately—probably because it’s hard to miss someone in a wheelchair. “Eli, what happened? What are you doing here?” Riley asked as he hurried over. “We didn’t know you’d been discharged from the hospital. We would’ve come to pick you up.” Riley had always been my best friend, ever since we were in primary school. We grew even closer in high school, and when we were waiting to receive our wolves, we used to fantasize about the idea of being mates. Of course, that didn’t happen. But it didn’t stop us from being friends. I’d known Lena for far less time—only about five years, since we began combat training—but we were just as close. Best friends, confidantes, and sparring partners. I knew their words weren’t empty. If I’d actually been discharged, they would’ve been the first to show up for me. But I’d discharged myself. “I just wanted to train, like always,” I said, my face still somewhat hidden beneath my hood. Even as the words left my mouth, I knew how ridiculous they sounded. Riley and Lena exchanged a look—not because of what I’d said, but because of something else. “You already know, don’t you?” I dared to ask. Again, they shared a glance, silently deciding who would break the news. Riley was the chosen one. “It’s official now. The pack’s social media announced it.” “Ah… He couldn’t even wait for me to be discharged from the hospital. But whatever. It doesn’t change anything. I came here to train, not to be pitied.” Lena’s hand rested on my shoulder. “You’re right, friend. Come on. Train with me.” I didn’t even know how I was supposed to train in my new condition, but soon enough, the instructors arrived. After recognizing me—without making any comments about what had already been posted on the pack’s social media—they adapted the beginner routines to my limitations. “Of course, we can’t use movements that involve the legs,” one of them explained, “but we can focus on strengthening your arms, back, and entire torso.” I threw myself into the exercises, desperate to push myself. My only goal was to exhaust my body to the point that I wouldn’t have to think about what had happened. Freidis was still hiding, unwilling to come out. In a way, so was I. But I had my own method. By midday, we were done. I was completely drained. My arm muscles burned, my back ached, and I could feel the first signs of sores forming from the wheelchair against my skin. “Do you want us to walk you home?” Riley offered as we packed up. “No, it’s not necessary. Don’t worry.” I gave him a faint smile, trying to sound confident. “I’m starting to get the hang of pushing this thing, and I want to practice more.” That was a lie. I would have loved for them to make things easier for me, but I felt embarrassed by the thought of being pushed. “Besides, it would take you out of your way, wouldn’t it?” Riley nodded, exchanging a knowing look with Lena. The two of them had chosen to become guards, which meant they had shifts to complete while balancing their studies. “Are you sure, Eli? You look exhausted,” Lena said, her voice laced with concern. But I was just as firm as she was. I wanted to do this alone. We said our goodbyes there, with their promise to stop by my house that evening to check on me. If the fifteen blocks from the hospital to the training grounds had felt endless, the ten remaining blocks to my house seemed eternal. But I made it. By now, my hands were beginning to develop calluses. When I reached home, I noticed two troubling things: first, that there was no ramp to help me get up onto the porch. And second—far worse than the first—that the last person I ever expected, or wanted, to see was standing there at the door. “Good afternoon, cripple,” Morgana greeted, her voice dripping with malice. “Remember when I told you how quickly things could change?”
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