Chapter 87

As the movie credits roll, Marcus reluctantly heaves himself up off the couch and takes the empty wine bottle to the recycling bin. I follow, yawning, with our empty wine glasses.

"Well, I suppose I should get back to my own rooms," Marcus says, lingering in the kitchenette. "It would be the scandal of the century if I was to be found leaving here in the morning."

"You'd think werewolf etiquette would be a little more caught up in the 21st century," I say, not wanting him to go, either.

"Oh, we get up to plenty of mischief, don't get me wrong," Marcus grins wickedly. "I mean, how do you think Daisy got pregnant before her wedding?"

"Well, that's a good point."

"But we can't do it in the Alpha's mansion, right under official noses," he continues. "We have to at least pretend to abide by the rules. Daisy didn't get in trouble for her pregnancy because the conception took place at some society party. If she'd been fooling around here, my father would have been pissed."

I laugh, shaking my head. All these morality play rules - it'll be a lot to get used to, once I'm part of the family. But it's worth it. Marcus is worth it.

"All right, then, off with you," I say with a wave of my hand. "Get out, before we break any archaic werewolf rules."

"I'll see you in the morning," Marcus says, leaning in to kiss me good night.

After he leaves, I head to the bathroom to take a steaming hot shower. The water relaxes some of the lingering tension in my shoulders, and the lavender lotion I use afterwards goes a long way into relaxing me completely.

Between the soothing bedtime care and the few glasses of wine I've consumed, my eyelids are already heavy when I slip between the silky cool sheets of my princessy four-poster bed. I'm asleep almost immediately, sinking down, down, down into the dreamless depths of a heavy sleep.

I'm having the strangest dream. Something feels wrong, uncomfortable, but I can't seem to wake up. I'm not sure what it is - I can't quite place it. But - it's so hot. So hot. It's hotter than the Sahara desert, I'm sweating, trickling…

I'm standing in a desert, heat licking at my skin, blistering it. The air is choked with the heat - I can hardly inhale it. My throat is half-closed up, I can't swallow, and that itchy, persistent sweat trickles over every inch of my body. Something is wailing - some kind of alarm?

I twist in my sleep, or try to, but my limbs are so heavy. I'm so close to waking up, but I can't quite manage it. And - there, in the distance, it sounds like someone is shouting my name. I try to shout back, but my throat won't work.

I'm trapped in this burning desert, trapped, trapped, trapped.

Marcus breaks free of Yasin's hold for the third time, right as the bodyguard almost succeeds in dragging him to the emergency staircase.

"I said no!" he roars furiously, wrenching and stumbling back down the hall. "I"m not leaving here without her."

"You have to," Yasin yells, lunging for him again. "Anton is trying to reach her. If he can't get through that fire, nobody can. You have to evacuate, Marcus. It's spreading already."

Smoke billows from under the door to Evelyn's suite and chokes the hallway. Marcus pulls his nightshirt up over his nose and mouth, trying to breathe through it. He can hear the crackling of the flames behind the door, even over the shrieking of the fire alarm.

"The fire department is here," Yasin says, looking out the window. "Marcus, let's go. Let them do their jobs."

Sure enough, feet are pounding up the lower staircases, voices shouting through the din.

"No," Marcus says. Anton, who is trying to pick the lock, looks back at him.

"Move out of my way," Marcus says in a commanding tone, and Anton does as he's told.

Then Marcus throws himself at the door.

I'm still burning, burning, choking, coughing, but now someone is lifting me up. Strong arms scoop me up, hold me close, Someone is coughing, crying, swearing next to my ear.

"I've got her!"

"Give her to me."

"Let's move it, move it! Get out of the way!"

"Get her out of here. Marcus, let's go, now!"

Rattling, the sound of stomping feet, shouting and blasts of water and air. I'm being carried, carried, carried until finally, finally I feel cool air on my skin. My face. I half awaken, choking and coughing, gulping clean air down my seared lungs. Someone sets me down.

"Evelyn." It's Marcus, soot-streaked and with tears running down his cheeks. He's standing in front of me, waving off the paramedic who is trying to steer him to an ambulance.

"Marcus, give her some room," a sharp voice says. Liam. "Let the paramedics do their work."

I try to answer him, but no sound will come out of my mouth.

"Don't try to speak," a young woman says to me. She's fitting an oxygen mask over my mouth. "You've breathed in too much smoke. Don't hurt yourself trying to talk just now. We're going to get you to the hospital. You're going to be all right."

"How did she get trapped in there?" Marcus asks hoarsely. I've never heard his voice sound so cold.

"We think the locks were changed," Liam says grimly. "There's no reason that Anton's keys shouldn't have worked."

"Only a handful of people could have pulled that off," Marcus croaks. "This has to end."

"I know," Liam says. "I know. But first, Marcus, we need to get her to the hospital. You, too."

I don't hear the rest of the conversation, because I'm bundled into the ambulance and taken away. I try to hang on, but it's all so much. I slump back on the stretcher and let darkness overcome me once again.

I come to slowly, agonizingly. My throat has never hurt so badly in my entire life. My vision is blurred, and at first I'm not even sure where I am. There's a steady beeping noise, though, and I slowly realize that I must be in a hospital room.

My vision clears bit by bit, and I try to move. There are bandages on my hands and feet. Everything hurts, dully, and - I sniff - my god, I reek. The whole room reeks of smoke.

"Hey!" a gentle voice greets me. "You're awake, my dear girl. Thank god. I don't know that I've ever been so worried in my entire life."

I turn my head slowly toward the voice. The Alpha is sitting next to my bedside, looking more exhausted than I've ever seen him. He reaches out a hand and pats my shoulder lovingly.

"Don't try to talk," he advises when I open my mouth. "You've inhaled too much smoke. You're going to be all right, but you need to rest your voice for a while. I think I can anticipate your questions, however, and I'll answer them.

"Firstly, Marcus is fine. He inhaled quite a bit of smoke and got some nasty burns when he pulled you from that fire, so he's in his own hospital room right now. They had to sedate the boy to keep him there, he was so worried about you.

"No one else was hurt. The fire was started in your kitchen, and it was put out before it could spread too far. You're lucky that Marcus was still awake when it was set, or he might not have made it to you on time."

I give the Alpha a questioning look, which he correctly interprets. .

" He told me that he suddenly felt the most terrible sense of dread come over him," the Alpha says softly. "He knew instinctively that he had to reach you, to check on you. That, my dear girl, is the mark of a soulmate."

I blink, too shocked to know how to respond. The Alpha pats my shoulder again.

"We can talk more about what that means when you're better," he says. "But, Nicole, I do think it's a sign. It's time to tell Marcus who you really are. I've spoken to Kent about it, and he agrees with me."

"I do," another voice says, and I startle slightly. Kent walks over to my bed from the doorway where he'd been standing, holding two steaming cups of coffee. He passes one to the Alpha before sitting gingerly on the side of my bed.

"Time to give up your secrets, Doc," he says. "You've been through hell and back for me and the boys, and we appreciate you more than we can say. It's time you let go of the secrecy and tell your man who you really are."

I shake my head, tears leaking from my eyes.

"Don't worry," the Alpha says soothingly. "You'll find the right time. And everything will work out for the best. You'll see."

I consider it, as best I can in my current state. But no. I can't tell Marcus who I really am, I think, losing my nerve just imagining it. I just can't.

The beeping sound of my heart monitor is starting to race, and Kent looks at in alarm. The Alpha pats my shoulder for the third time, soothingly.

"Don't decide anything right now, dearest," he says calmly. "Just rest now, Nicole. Just rest."

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. A squeaky pair of shoes walks over to me, murmuring to the Alpha and Kent that I need my rest.

"I'm going to give you something to help you sleep again," an unfamiliar but comforting voice tells me. "Sleep is the best medicine for you right now."

I take another deep breath or two before I'm suddenly floating, floating, floating, and I drift back off into a sea of sleep.