Page 85 of Arranged Wolf's Nanny

No hesitation. Rick had taught her that.

As a Black Claw wolf barreled into her, it was his face she saw. His scent flows through her.

All around her, Silvermist burned.

Chapter 20 - Rick

The world returned to him in fragments.

The first was pain. A deep, dragging ache that lived in every bone and muscle. His body felt as though it had been taken apart and poorly reassembled, each joint too tight, each rib screaming when he breathed.

The second was light. A thin wash of morning, pale and gray, filtering through curtains he didn’t recognize. It stabbed at his eyes until he turned his head away.

The third was sound. Not the roar of battle, not the clash of wolves, but hushed voices beyond the door. Low, steady tones. Iron Walkers, he thought, though the words themselves came as a blur.

Rick groaned and forced himself upright.

The room swam. He pressed a hand to the edge of the bed until the dizziness passed. The linens beneath him smelled faintly of smoke and antiseptic, sharp and clean. Someone had bandaged his side, his shoulder, his thigh. The scars of teeth and claws pulled tight with each movement.

Slowly, memory bled back.

The battlefield. The fire. John Heath’s throat is beneath his jaws. Rosalia’s cry as the Black Claw came for him. And then…darkness.

He breathed out hard through his nose, dragging his hand across his face. Alive. That much was clear. The Iron Walkers…he needed answers. He needed to see…

The door creaked.

Felix stepped inside.

His alpha looked worse for wear, though he carried it with the same iron steadiness as always. His shirt was torn across one shoulder, a slash of blood drying down one arm. His jaw bore a new bruise, and his eyes were ringed with the hollows of exhaustion. Still, he stood tall, his presence filling the room.

“You look like hell,” Rick rasped.

Felix’s mouth twitched, “I could say the same. This is the second time I’ve had to carry your ass into bed.”

Rick tried to push himself further upright, but his body protested. “The battle—”

“Won.” Felix’s answer was simple, unflinching. “But not without cost.”

The words landed like stones. Rick closed his eyes.

“We held Silvermist,” Felix continued, “The Black Claws broke first. Without their alpha, they scattered. The Green Mountain wolves followed soon after, leaderless. But…” His pause was heavy. “We paid for it. Too many of ours won’t rise again.”

Rick’s throat tightened. Faces came to him unbidden, men he’d trained with, fought beside, men who had followed him without hesitation. Now gone.

“How many?” he asked.

Felix’s gaze softened by a fraction. “Enough to hurt. But not so many that we’ll fall.”

Rick bowed his head. He had led them into danger, planned to outmaneuver enemies, and still they had bled for it. He sighed, “At least you finally put down Raph.”

Felix’s laugh of shock surprised him, and he looked up. “Me? What makes you think it was me?”

His eyebrows drew together. “Dane then?”

Felix shook his head. “We didn’t get the chance. After he nearly…well, nearly killed you, Rosalia took him out.”

Rick’s mind went utterly blank, his mouth falling open.