Page 51 of Knot Their Soldier: Part Three

When she finally lets go, her hands don’t drop.

They stay on me, trembling against my shoulders.

Her mouth works, but no sound comes out at first. Her eyes are wet now, the budding tears welling the longer she looks at me. Her breath is uneven, and I realize that what looked like fury was actually grief.

"Sparks, you bitch," she says again, but this time her voice breaks around it. "Do you have any idea what you did to me?"

"Sorry," I say, because I don’t know what else there is.

What do you say to someone who has now grieved you twice in the same year?

Twice, Everlyn and Jason have believed me dead. She has had to mourn me, swallow the impossible, and keep going.

I feel almost guilty that, once again, it turns out that I'm actually alive, and she endured that heartbreak for nothing.

Everlyn makes a sound that is half a laugh and half a sob, then she yanks me forward and hugs me so tight my ribs creak. Her body is shaking. She smells of antiseptic and stress sweat. It's familiar, and it tells me that I'm home.

Jason reaches us a second later, though he doesn’t push between us. He stops close enough to touch my arm, his fingers brushing over my sleeve while his gaze moves across my face.

His jaw locks. The muscle in his cheek jumps.

"I thought it was a messed-up joke," he says quietly. "The reports were clear. I read them all, and there was no way you survived. I really believed…"

His voice gives out.

The Pack spreads out, giving us some space, but guarding us. I silently thank them through our bond.

"I’m fine," I tell them, though my skin feels too warm beneath Everlyn’s hands and my thoughts keep trying to drift. "I died, but I’m here. Everything worked out."

Everlyn pulls back enough to glare at me through red-rimmed eyes.

"You are never allowed to say ‘I'm fine’ after dying ever again. Twice, Halley. You've done this to us twice now."

Her tears keep falling, but her expression changes. The doctor in her takes over, and suddenly she’s studying me like a patient who isn't telling her their full medical history.

I try to smile reassuringly at her.

Her brows draw together.

"No," she says, and her voice goes flat. "No. Don’t do that."

I blink. "Do what?"

"This weird calm thing you're doing."

She waves her hand, gesturing to the whole of me. She then takes a step away from me and wipes her face with the back of her hand, smearing snot across her knuckles.

She shakes her head and turns to Jason. "She's acting weird, right?"

Jason looks between us and makes a noncommittal grimace. "Maybe? Calmer than I expected."

Everlyn points at him without looking away from me. "Exactly."

"Everlyn…"

"That's not how Halley would…" she trails off, sucks in a shaky, steadying breath. "You were dead. The reports were clear that you bled out from two mortal wounds. I read them until I felt sick. You were clinically dead, and you stayed dead long enough that no doctor should’ve been able to bring you back."

Her throat works.