Chapter 169

I sit in the chair pulled up beside Neil’s bed while one of his doctors gives Neil a checkup. Even though I’m not a big fan of medical procedures and stuff, I force myself to watch diligently as the doctor checks his pulse and then inspects the spider web of poison across the Neil’s chest.

The doctor removes the covering over Neil’s shoulder where the silver actually lies, adds some ointment, and then seals the bandage once more.

Neil doesn’t so much as flinch through the entire thing, though I can see, especially from this close, how tightly he’s gripping his fist.

Gently, I place my hand over his fist, hoping to give him as much support and comfort as I can. He glances at me and our eyes meet. I wish I could stare at him longer, he has such entrancing eyes, but my promise to the others was to keep an eye on the doctor.

We all vowed to take turns sitting in when Neil has visitors. None of us trust the Alpha King. Any one of these doctors, nurses, or technicians could be infiltrators under his payroll. We all suspect the Alpha King won’t just leave his eldest son alone.

If I see one wrong move, I’m going to go haywire.

Neil protects me so much all the time. It’s the least I can do to protect him now that the tables are turned.

“All finished,” the doctor says, and that’s that. Everything he did seems to have been legitimate. I guess I don’t have to break anyone’s bones this time.

Wyatt waits at the door, ready to show the doctor out. Despite Wyatt and my active hostility toward one another, he still has duties to perform as the Beta of the Hayes brothers. Escorting guests is one of those duties.

Still, I breathe a sigh of relief when he and the doctor are gone.

Neil notices. My hand is still on top of his fist. He loosens his hold now, stretching out his fingers. Then he turns his hand so that it’s palm up. Our fingers slot together.

I’m instantly comforted by the strength of his grip. Neil is so tough, even for an Alpha. He’s the only man I know who would fight silver like this and still manage to come away looking strong.

“About this fight…” he begins.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” I say. Fact is, it’s all the brothers and I have talked about since the challenge was cast. They’ve all made their opinions known, one way or the other. Archer has been the bluntest, basically telling me flat-out I’m going to lose.

The others have said the same thing, but with more diplomacy.

Neil has been sleeping so much, I haven’t gotten a one on one discussion with him. Though I imagine, knowing the brothers as I do, that his opinions will fall in line with theirs.

Neil shakes his head just once, telling me that we are going to talk about it whether or not I want to. I brace myself for yet another scolding of my recklessness.

“Wyatt won’t play fair,” Neil says, surprising me a little. I was expecting a lashing related to me, not to Wyatt.

“I know,” I say as I recover. Fact is, Wyatt is liable to use any trick to beat me, especially if it looks like I might actually win at any point. Losing to me would be a one-two punch to his ego and reputation, something he values above everything else.

He’s not going to let me off easy.

“Try not to worry,” I say. “The training is going well, I think. I already feel faster. Archer has been running me like a drill sergeant.”

“You don’t have a wolf,” Neil says. His brow crumples a bit in worry. “You are at a natural disadvantage. Of course I’m going to worry.”

“Give me some credit,” I say. “I’m not as weak as everyone seems to think.”

“It’s not about strength or weakness,” Neil replies. “It’s about advantage and disadvantage. Some things you just can’t train for. You could be a bodybuilder and still not have as much strength as he innately has.”

I sigh a little more, because yeah, this has turned into the speech I expected. You are going to lose, Chloe, he says, albeit with much nicer words.

“Though I will tell you this,” Neil says. The worry falls away, solidifying into a cruel sort of darkness hallowing his features. “When the fight is done, if Wyatt has hurt you, he won’t make it out of the Pyramid without any injuries on you returned to him tenfold.”

He means it. I know that in my heart. “This is my fight,” I remind him. “Not yours.”

Neil looks at me closer. “Don’t forget. The Hayes’s protect what’s ours.”

A pleasant shiver runs down my spine.

Ours.

I like the sound of that.

I know, deep down, that he only means me as a possession, an employee under their care. But… my secret wish is for more than that, and my treacherous heart can’t help but take it the way I want.

Since issuing the challenge, I can’t sleep for shit. More often than not, I’ll stay in the gym, working myself into a fury until my limbs are so exhausted they can barely move. Then, I can crash. But it’s less like sleeping and more like a computer shutting down for a reboot.

I do not sleep soundly.

I’ve been thinking of ways to combat this. Yoga. Rain sounds. Meditation. Nothing’s really worked. It’s difficult to turn off the swarming thoughts in my mind.

Tonight, I have a different plan. Something closer to home.

I pick up my cell and I call my mom.

With everything going on, I don’t get to call her as often as I want to. As I should. She’s been there for me my whole life, and I’ve been pushing her away to hide the constant stream of messes I’m caught in.

She knows about my position of Nanny, working with the Hayes brothers. She knows I see Wyatt often. She knows I go to school, and my dream is to be a warrior.

Everything else is hazy. Misdirection or vague answers that tell her how I’m doing without really giving her the details. I know she worries. I wish I could tell her the truth. It’d probably give her a heart attack though.

Some things you just can’t tell your mom.

“Chloe! How nice to hear from you? How are you?”

“Hi, Mom.”

We go through the usual platitudes. She tells me about Isaac, and some of our extended family, and what they served at the neighborhood potluck last week.

It feels so good talking to her like this. So normal. It’s the kind of normal that’s rare around here, with these people so far up their own asses all the time. I don’t even mind when she tells me what color her nails are now, or that the new guy she has do them charges too much.

Mom married into money, but she doesn’t let it control her. I admire that about her.

I admire a lot of things about her.

“How are you and Wyatt getting along?” Mom asks me. “Isaac worries about him sometimes. He doesn’t call as often as you.”

Since I barely call as it is, that must mean Wyatt never does.

“He’s okay,” I say. I guess. I wish I could tell her that Wyatt is a pompous asshole, but that likely wouldn’t go so well. “Mom… is Wyatt ever a jerk to you?”

“To me? No! Why would he be? He’s always so polite and kind,” Mom says. “Truly a joy of a step-son.”

Except he never calls. But she doesn’t say that.

She truly has no idea, then, how much Wyatt detests her.

How much he hates us both.

“Has something happened, honey?” Mom asks me.

I don’t have the heart to tell her. “No, Mom. Everything’s fine.”