Red's Demise

The Debt

Red

"-your fault, Púca," A deep voice was the first thing my brain registered as my consciousness suddenly flooded back in.

Slowly, my body woke up. The aching pain with it. I nearly groaned as my head spun and I felt as if I had been dragged behind a carriage for miles.

As sensation returned to my throbbing limbs, I realized that there was a warm body pressed against me. Where am I?

Memories of shadows and my burning palm flooded me suddenly and I felt my heart rate pick up with panic.

"She's awake," the body next to me rumbled, and instantly my fight instinct kicked in.

However, as I moved to palm my knives, I realized that I couldn't move. Not at any speed that mattered, anyway. So I accepted my temporary fate and allowed my body time to recover.

"Red?" A concerned voice called out and I recognized the traitorous male.

I peeled my eyes open and looked at where the voice had come from.

Fenris sat at the bottom of my bed, his leg propped on the bench beneath him so he could rest an arm against his knee and his back on the posts at the end of my bed. He looked casual in his pose, but his eyes danced with an unusual emotion for him.

He seemed worried.

Instead of focusing on him, I turned next to the large male that stood in front of my bedroom door. Silas, the scary bastard, was glaring down at me in silent anger.

Finally, I turned to the other male in my room. Ezekiel sat next to me on my bed. His back against my headboard while his leg stretched and completely touched mine. His forest green eyes watched me carefully as he seemed to scan me from head to toe.

At the realization that I wasn't in any immediate danger, my panic lightly ebbed. Though my mind raced to find answers as I tried to figure out why I was in my room, back at the manor, with three males staring at me with varying emotions.

"How do you feel?" Fenris spoke again, pulling me from my confusion.

"Where's Ivar?" I asked in return.

The male next to me chuckled, a deep and somewhat soothing sound.

"Gods," He muttered to no one in particular. "You've just been bled dry and flown home, and your first concern is for your damned horse," Ezekiel shook his head in disappointment, yet made no motion to move from our intimate positioning.

His words had me reeling though. Flown?

My gaze suddenly swung to the Wyvern shifter, who hadn't spoken since I had woken up.

Silas stood with his arms crossed, his icy blue eyes bore into me still.

"Ivar is fine," Fenris placated once my heart rate started to race even more from the lack of responses. "I took him to the stable in Stone River before we left," he explained.

I silently sent him a look of appreciation, grateful that he had thought about Ivar before me.

The male next to me shifted, his arm reaching across my body to pick up my left hand where it lay lifelessly next to me. A tanned bandage had been fashioned around my palm, though a deep red color had bled through the fabric.

"Care to explain how this almost killed you?" Ezekiel hedged.

I glared at my palm, remembering the shadowed man who had actually drank my blood. There was no way they would believe me and a part of me was too embarrassed about the whole situation.