That was one way to put it. The emotions that Riverhad steadily been shoving down all night tried to force their way to the surface. They were a battering ram against her senses, and all she could do was nod.
“Dad’s okay, Shortie,” Ryker said quietly. “Brynleigh and I were at Waterborn House earlier this evening. He wasn’t talking, but he was alert. His eyes tracked our movements.”
“He knew you were there?” she asked hopefully.
“Yeah.”
Relief was a cool stream washing over River, and her lungs loosened. It felt like she could breathe properly for the first time since she walked into Mrs. Valois’s room.
River made a religious gesture across her chest and thanked Dyna, the fae goddess of life and healing. The deity was revered by all fae in the medical profession, but doubly so by River. She was certain her father was still here only because Dyna willed it.
The Stillness was a fickle killer. Sometimes, it took a person quickly. Other times, the illness ebbed and flowed, giving their victims increasingly rare moments of lucidity. When Cyrus spoke the night Ryker brought his then-fiancée, now-wife, Brynleigh home to introduce her to the family, it had been a downright miracle.
It was unlikely that River would ever hear her father’s voice again, but she was still holding out hope. She would continue to do so until the end of time because she couldn’t give up on her father. She would do anything for him.
Ryker rested his chin on his fist, looking at her seriously through the phone. “You know I’d call you if there were any change in his condition, right? Just because you’re in another city doesn’t mean we’ve forgotten about you.”
“I know, and I appreciate it,” she murmured.
She never would’ve accepted the residency in Lakewater without her brother’s repeated assurances that he’d keep her inthe loop. But River had never anticipated how difficult it would be to be away from her family or how a single patient could make her feel so out of sorts.
“Good.” Ryker settled back on the couch, spreading his legs in the way that only men seemed capable of doing, and got comfortable. “Now, tell me about your day. Are you terrorizing the good people of Lakewater?”
“Me?” She placed a hand on her chest and gasped in mock-outrage, a smile playing at the corner of her lips. “Never. I am thepictureof perfection and good behavior.”
Ryker chuckled, and for a moment, it was as if they were in the same room, watching a game of laser together like old times. “Sure, Shortie. Keep telling yourself that. You forget, I watched you grow up.”
A laugh burst out of her, the first one in gods only knew how long. Her shoulders loosened, and she started updating her brother on her life. Not that there was much to tell, since she didn’t date or have much of a social life outside of work, but it was nice to talk to him.
Bit by bit, word by word, tension slipped from her body. Her magic retreated behind the dam where it resided, and she slowly felt more like herself.
By the time her break was over and she hung up the phone, she thought she’d be okay. She thought she could get through the rest of her shift without any problems.
She was wrong.
Sands save her, but she was so, so wrong.
CHAPTER 3
It was Happening Again
The moment River stepped back onto the floor, she felt the shift in the air. The nurses who had been milling around the ICU before her break were now huddled around the central desk, whispering. Their voices were hushed, even to River’s fae senses. Several of them glanced up, their faces paling as they met her eyes.
River’s stomach dropped to her feet as she approached them.
“What’s wrong?” She placed her tablet and water bottle on top of the desk. “Did something happen while I was on break?”
She glanced over her shoulder, but there were no signs of distress coming from any of the patient rooms. It was after midnight, and they were all sleeping. Besides, if somethinghadhappened, the nurses would’ve come to get her immediately.
Arnan Lightfoot, one of the senior ICU nurses, turned his head. His black hair was askew, as if hands had been running through it; a sheen of sweat covered his ebony skin, and hetwisted his hands together. His glowing orange eyes, a marker of his werewolf heritage, were lined with tears.
River had gotten to know Arnan a few months ago, and she remembered that he hailed from the Northern Region. His pack was one of the largest in the Republic of Balance…
And it was the same one the Howlers came from.
The moment River met Arnan’s sorrowful gaze, she knew. She knew, and yet, she needed to hear him say it. Needed him to speak into reality what her heart already felt.
The werewolf’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out of it. He scrubbed a hand over his face, but the movement didn’t hide the tear sliding down his cheek.