Physical therapy in a room full of werewolves was an odd experience.

Grunts of effort filled the room, mixing with the sounds of clinking weights and the steady hum of the air conditioner.

Jack sat on a weight bench, studiously judging our performance.

I mean, it didn’t technically affect what I was doing. I knew every stretch I was supposed to do. I've needed them quite a few times over my life.

Nina, a ghost I’d met when I was fourteen, had been a physical therapist and ran me through the paces before moving on.

So it wasn’t that superhumanly strong people were lifting absurd weights or sparring or doing any of the other very distracting things werewolves did when working out.

It was that they wouldn’t stop babying me.

I wobbled in my stretch, my side aching with the motion. If it weren’t for the constant rotation of healers, I wouldn’t be out of bed yet, much less doing PT, but while that was amazing, it didn’t translate to fully healed.

Before I could recover—or get worse, to be fair—Blair was at my side, a steadying hand on my shoulder.

I bit back a sigh and nodded to her.

She slowly backed off as if she expected me to collapse at any moment.

All of them had been like that since we started, but Blair was the worst.

It was annoying and unfamiliar, but it was also sweet.

They cared.

I switched stretches, carefully laying down and reaching out with one arm while twisting at the hips. My back and side groaned with the motion, but I was fine. I knew what was the ache of muscles protesting a stretch and what was me hurting myself like a dumbass.

I studied the others as I stretched.

Werewolves were bastards, not because of any particular wrongdoing on their part, but because they all made me feel like a pool noodle on legs.

Blair and Simon were sparring, and despite being the smallest person in the room aside from me, Simon still had densely corded muscles and a six-pack.

And the others all looked like some blend of professional fighter and Olympian.

It was blatantly unfair.

Blair noticed me looking and raised a blond brow.

I shook my fist at her.

She snorted and went back to her spar.

The manor had a basement that had never been used for anything. Master Bram had always intended to turn it into a wine cellar at some point, but we’d- they had never gotten around to it.

The Pack had made quick work of it while I was bedridden. Werewolf workers were fast. It had only

taken them a few days to convert the basement into a full gym stocked with all the equipment a gym rat could dream of.

I was a little shaky on what good working out did for werewolves, but apparently, relying on their magic alone wasn’t a good idea. Not all of their strength came from werewolf mojo; their muscles were also stronger and denser than any humans, and through training, they could make them even stronger.

My side throbbed, and for a moment, I was back at the tree, the cold mist in my lungs and burning agony in my side. Helpless as Blair fought for our lives.

I took a deep breath and ignored the stares. That was another thing that took some getting used to.

Werewolves could smell your emotions to varying degrees. And they could also smell pain.

Blair ran over three more times before I finished stretching.

She had protected me during our little hike, but nothing like this.

I figured it could be chalked up to me almost dying, but she seemed more tense in general. Quicker to snap. It felt like half the times I looked over, her jaw was clenched.

It was starting to worry me.

After finishing our respective workouts, I ran to one of the mansion's many showers.

I enjoyed a shower that teetered on the edge of scalding before stepping out of the bathroom and being greeted with the smell of cooking meat.

I sniffed the air. Bacon, unless the old sniffer was failing me.

Ben rose up from the floor, or at least his top half did.

He didn’t seem to feel like rising any further. “Dinner is cooking if you want to head down.”

I nodded and made my way to the door.

He followed, treating the hardwood like it was shallow water.

“How have things been? In town, I mean.“ I hadn’t gotten the chance to look around much. Being bed-bound would do that to a fella.

Ben scratched his chin. “The mage clans are settling in well enough, even taking some of the vacant lots in the Biggin and a few fancy homes in the Overlook. The werewolves, well, you’re staying with them. The vampires only have a few delegates right now, same for the ghouls and the other were-kin.”

He rolled his shoulder. “Good news is nobody’s been killed yet. Though, I think that’s because most of the factions have been staying away from the north side. For some strange reason, it seems that Grumpy scared them off.“

I chuckled.

Ben frowned. “Things are pretty tense.”

He looked out at the far wall, his gaze distant. “Everybody’s moving like they expect a bomb to go off. They don’t know where, and they don’t know when, but they can hear it ticking.”

I rubbed my face.

Necromancers a town over, undead in my backyard, though at least I’d sent the Knull clan after them. They could handle it. They hunted down rogue mages all the time. And necromancers avoided capture all the time.

But compared to the big picture, what were some necromancers?

War. What was I supposed to do? What could I even do?

At that moment, familiar helplessness settled onto my shoulders like a cold weight. I was one man in a war with people who could annihilate armies.

If the feeling weren’t so familiar, it would’ve been harder to deal with. But being a little fish in a big ocean, that was nothing new. I took a few deep breaths, then walked downstairs.

The kitchen was elaborate, all dark browns and greens with appliances that hadn’t been updated in hundreds of years, sitting right next to a state-of-the-art fridge and stove.

Werewolves did work fast.

The kitchen bustled, everyone slipping around each other, each with their own tasks.

Bobby was frying bacon on one burner while Laurel cracked eggs into a bowl beside him.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

On another counter, Simon started slicing bread.

Blair, notably, wasn’t doing anything, and she looked rather unhappy about it.

Ben dropped through the floor. “I’m gonna go harass Agatha, be back later!”

I rolled my eyes at the ghost before turning my attention to Blair.

I sidled over to her and gave her a gentle nudge. “Did you get banished?“

She nodded. “I struck out.“

“Excuse me?“

“I started micromanaging, so I’m banished until someone finishes, and I can step in.“

I wanted to laugh, but the fact that she wasn’t helping clearly bothered her. “Are you usually a micromanager?“

Blair scowled. “Not typically.”

I sensed a but in there.

I considered prodding her to answer, but she was upset. Well, if the woman wanted to help, I’d give her something to help with.

“The table hasn’t been set. Wanna give me a hand.”

She stared at me for a beat, her blue eyes inscrutable. Then she gave me a grateful smile and followed me to the table.

She started pulling out silverware as I grabbed napkins. If this were at my place, they would have been paper, cheap enough to see through, and almost certainly bought on sale.

These napkins were a deep crimson and probably made out of silk or something.

I laid down a napkin, and Blair set the silverware on it. Rinse and repeat.

We only had to set it for us and a few of the larger Northwood Pack. Most of them were traveling with her parents, putting out fires as they popped up.

It was comfortable, and I found myself relaxing as we worked through the simple task.

“Thank you.”

I glanced at Blair.

“For?”

“For being patient with me. I know I’ve been…pushy the last week. And snappy.”

Well, I hadn’t noticed her being snappy until a few days ago, but she had certainly been pushy.

Mainly in that I couldn’t get out of bed until every healer agreed that I could.

“It’s just that-“ she cut off as Bobby called out over the kitchen fan. “Foods ready! Come grab plates.”

Blair bit her lip. “We’ll talk after dinner.”

Dinner, it turned out, was bacon, fried eggs, toast, and hash browns.

As a civilized man of great taste, I never turned down breakfast for dinner, so I tucked into my food with an appetite. Less of one than the werewolves, but still, I put up a fight.

After a hearty meal, I found myself wandering the halls.

I wanted fresh air, but I also didn’t want to go outside—too much effort.

My feet took me to the back of the manor, through the second, smaller dance hall, and to a balcony tucked away against the side of the building.

It overlooked the large hill the manor was built on, letting me see the forest stretching into the distance.

I took a deep breath, the fall air crisp in my lungs.

I closed my eyes. I was tired, which was annoying. I didn’t want to be tired. I didn’t want to go to bed again for another week, but I also wanted to flop down and sleep.

I rubbed my face. I was used to being sleep-deprived. It had been…a long time since I slept through the night.

But adding the exhaustion that came with an injury to my normal levels was…I slumped against the balcony.

It was a lot.

Someone leaned against the balcony next to me. I didn’t bother turning to look, but the strands of blond I could see in the corner of my eye told who.

“Hey Blair, what brings you to these parts?”

She snorted as she stared out with me. “Just enjoying the fresh air, I suppose. And I did say I wanted to talk.”

I nodded.

Despite saying that, Blair wasn’t in a hurry to break the silence.

Not that I minded. It was nice sharing the quiet listening to the night come alive.

After a while, I’m not sure how long, Blair spoke.

“You're fragile.”

I blinked. “Beg pardon?”

She didn’t look at me, keeping her gaze on the forest. “Part of the reason I’m being so annoying. You…I don’t have much experience with humans. I know that you’re more fragile than we are, that you heal much slower. But knowing isn’t knowing.“

Her hands tightened on the railing. “You almost died.”

I nodded. “So did you.”

Her grip tightened further. “Yes. But I was walking around again that night. You- you’ve had a constant rotation of healers for a week, and you're just better. I-I’ve never learned how to properly cope with injuries, I suppose.” She sighed and rubbed at her face.

“I’ve lived with the understanding that if I kept my Pack alive through that fight, everything would be fine. But that’s not enough anymore. I failed.”

“Hey, now!” I scowled. “You didn’t fail anything. You saved my life." I felt a warmth in my chest. She considered me part of the Pack.

That was...touching.

"If it weren't for you, I would have died, torn apart by undead."

Blair stared at me, her eyes hard. "If it weren't for you, we would've died at the summit, torn apart by shades."

I shrugged. "It's not a contest."

Blair shook her head. "It's not that. I'm too weak, Alder. There are monsters out there, and the world isn't going to slow down for me to catch up. And if I try to force the issue, there will be consequences."

I paused. Part of me wanted to scoff at her, she could turn me into paste, but she was complaining about being too weak?

But it was all relative. The gap between us was nothing compared to the one between her and the people at the top.

My brain latched onto the last thing she had said.

"What do you mean 'force the issue?'"

Blair turned back to the trees. Wind whipped around us, tossing her hair about. "What do you know of werewolf Bonds?"

"Umm. Not much. I know it's your connection to the moon, and it ebbs and flows with the moon's cycles."

Blair nodded. "It grows stronger as we age. That's the rule of thumb for all spooks, though. The older, the stronger. As our Bond grows stronger, so do our instincts, good and bad."

Her eyes turned back to me. "I've already told you I'm stronger than I should be without the years of willpower training that's supposed to come with it.” She pushed some hair behind her ear.

“I’m not unique. Sudden jumps in strength are normal for werewolves, especially in wartime. The constant fighting pushes us to our limits, and when we reach out and demand that our Bond gives us more…sometimes, it answers.”

An uneasy feeling welled up in my gut.

I didn’t like what I was hearing, partly because I could guess where this conversation was heading and partly because I had been…well, not lying. But not completely honest either.

There were some memories I had repressed harder than others.

Ones I had locked away as deep in my psyche as possible and tried to bury the key.

They weren’t truly forgotten, couldn’t be forgotten. But I could…pretend.

I had known something more about werewolves. If I thought about it for just a few moments, it would come to me, memories stamped into the soul couldn’t be forgotten.

My mind fled, and my attention settled completely onto Blair’s words.

“If a werewolf pushes too far, if our Bond gets too out of control, it consumes us. Hollows us out until there’s no more person, only beast. It’s why rapid growth in werewolves is only seen as a good thing in small doses.”

Her grip once again tightened on the railing, and I was pretty sure I could hear the metal groaning.

“In the fight against the Wendigo. I was too weak. So-“

“So you reached for more.”

She nodded. “I reached for more. And I got it.” She closed her eyes. “I was already struggling before. My will is strong for my age, but not strong enough.”

She met my eyes, and I was shocked to see fear in them.

“I’m slipping, Alder. I’m not at risk of going feral yet. But if I don’t figure out a way to get this under control, then I will.”

I stared at her, a numb, empty feeling rising up inside me.

My vision wavered as the thought of her dying bounced around my skull.

I was familiar with death. Hell, it was practically my oldest friend.

But while I had long since accepted ghosts moving on, and death as a concept, especially in regard to my own life, I hadn’t had enough living connections ever to have to worry about them dying.

And now that I was…At that moment, I realized something. I would do everything in my power to save her.

I reached out and grabbed Blair’s hand. It was warm, almost shockingly so.

“We. We will find a solution.”

Blair stared, her eyes deep and dark. She turned to face me fully and clasped my hand with hers.

I felt a tugging in my chest, but I ignored it.

“I promise.”