Finding Forgiveness

I couldn’t bring myself to read with the thoughts of all the suffering and grief still going on out there and Luca fighting for his life in the ICU. So I sat with a book splayed out in my lap, staring at the fire in the hearth.

Max was pouring over some thriller. How he could read such a thing considering the circumstances I don’t know, but it had been at least half an hour since he las looked up to check on me.

He was engrossed.

“What are you reading?” I asked, dragging my stare from the flickering flames to Max.

“Zombie genocide,” he said without taking his eyes off the page, “It’s good.”

I rolled my eyes, “How can you read right now? Are your thoughts not too loud?”

“There’s no point sitting there wallowing,” he replied, “Distract yourself.”

“Were you injured?” I asked and he sighed before looking of from his book.

“Or don’t…” he muttered, “No. I was lucky to get off with a few scratches and bruises. It was a blood bath.”

“So we’ve lost a lot of men?” I questioned.

He nodded, “Hundreds.”

I sighed and rested my head on my hand, “There’ll be a lot of work to rebuild the pack and help the families who lost soldiers.”

“Fortunately for us all, we have the best Alpha, Luna duo the world has ever seen to do that,” he said, “We’ll get back on our feet soon. Don’t worry, Ells.”

I blushed, “I’m gonna go and make some food to distract myself. Are you hungry?”

“I’ll just finish this chapter and then I’ll be down…” he said already fixating his eyes on the page once again, “Hold on…”

So I got up alone, wandered along the dark hall to the stairs and then down to the dark kitchen. The house was deathly quiet. With every step, the floorboards groaned and the clock on the wall in the kitchen ticked intensely against the silence.

It was the stark contrast to the usual noise in the house that you can hardly hear yourself think over.

As I opened the fridge, the quiet shattered with the ringing of the doorbell.

I looked at my watch. It was the crack of dawn. Hardly a time to pop round with good news.

My thoughts immediately went to Luca and how we’d be one of the first to be told if something awful had happened.

Panic already setting in, I rushed into the hall and tried to peer out the window to make out any shadows but there was nothing. The only thing suggesting I hadn’t imagined it was Max appearing at the top of the stairs.

“Do not open it,” he ordered, “I’ll get my gun just to be sure.”

He had a point. The war was over but some stragglers of Andrea’s army could still be about. My dumbass was too concerned about Luca to even think about that.

But the knocker hadn’t bashed through the door and hurled any threatening words. Maybe it was a Doctor? Or a pack member seeking refuge?

I crept closer, eager to get a better look out the window.

Nothing was unusual except a trail of wet, sticky red across the porch and then the sound of heavy breaths and groans of one man on the other side of the door. Whoever it was was in a great deal of pain so I didn’t hesitate to grab the key off the top of the door frame and open it.

What I saw was nothing short of a shock.

I took a quick step back and reached for the door to slam it straight back shut.

But a blood-smothered hand slammed onto the door. The action seemed to sap all the remaining energy out of the owner and he sunk to his knees, wiping red down the wood of the door.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

He then lifted the other hand from his stomach to reveal a deep wound.

“Please,” he added as I just continued to stare down at him, completely dumbstruck.

Never did I think Luciano would come begging for my help.

I will admit, it brought me some pleasure to seem him so weak and helpless. There was no sly smile on his lips and even that evil glint in his eye had diminished. In its place was the expression of desperation.

“You can’t be here,” I said at long last.

“You have every right to be hesitant,” he replied, his voice getting hoarser. “But I won’t hurt you. I can’t hurt you. I’m dying.”

I looked around at the forest. It was still and empty. I then looked back down to him. At his paled lips and ghostly complexion.

I bit my lip before crushing all my doubts and leaning down to put his arm over my shoulder and begin dragging him to his feet.

“Max is here,” I said shortly. “He may not be so accommodating.”

Luciano made no reply but a deep groan as he rose from his knees.

Before I could even get him over the threshold, Max appeared in the hallway, gun in hand.

“Luciano?” He said, in an angry but deeply confused tone.

“He’s injured,” I said as I strained under his weight.

“Then leave him to die,” Max hissed. “He doesn’t deserve anyone’s kindness, especially not yours.”

“Max, please,” I replied.

“Injured or not, family or not, he’s caused you nothing but pain. Why would you even consider helping him?”

“Because evil or not he’s still a person and I can’t just let him die,” I replied.

Luciano looked briefly up to Max, with a weary, pleading expression before I felt his knees buckle and suddenly I had all his weight on me. I couldn’t take it and began stumbling as Luciano dropped to the floor. But before he impacted, undoubtedly hitting his head in the process, Max stepped forward and caught him.

“Are we really doing this?” He asked me, pausing as he held Luciano up.

“Yes,” I replied firmly.

He nodded and pulled Luciano so that one arm was over his shoulder and he could be hauled into the kitchen. He was huge, taller than Max by about half a foot and judging by the amount of muscle, probably heavier too. Although not elegantly, Max succeeded in moving him. His head lolled, the blood practically poured and his feet just dragged along the floor suggesting he was unconscious. But his groans and murmurs suggested otherwise.

I cleared the kitchen table of various toys and kids’ stationery that had been left in the flurry of evacuation before Max lifted him up and lay him down on his back.

“Was it a bullet or a knife or-” I asked.

“Your mate’s claws,” he replied breathlessly.

As I lifted his shirt, I only confirmed what he had said. There were three long gashes from just below his armpit on one side right down to his hip on the other. They were too deep, wide-spread and long to come from anything other than an Alpha.RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only