Werewolf U (7 page)

Samara noted James's smirk out of the corner of her eye. She cleared her throat. "Thank you." It wasn't quite as cool as she wanted to make it, but Samara guessed cool would be seen as rude. They did, after all, save her life.

Benjamin reached out and lifted her injured arm.

James and Jason tensed so abruptly, the hair on the back of her scalp stood on end.

Steven sighed and shook his head."Stand down, men."

They did so, but only minutely. Samara took a long, slow breath in response. Why did nothing they did make sense to her?

Benjamin ignored them. He snipped the bandage carefully, then unwrapped it. Samara strained to get a look at the damage, but Benjamin turned her arm away.

Maybe to get better light?

Steven went to work, wiping her arm with cloths that smelled of isopropyl alcohol. He folded them carefully before dropping them into a kidney bowl. On the third drop, Samara noticed the yellow-brown stains.

Brown could be dried blood, but yellow is bad news.
"What is that? The yellow stains?"

Steven didn't hesitate. "The blade introduced an infection into your system, but it's well on its way to being healed now."

"Infection? How long was I out?"

"A little over a day," Benjamin responded.

A day?
"Isn't that fast to get an infection from a wound?"

Steven shook his head. "We didn't wait for the infection to reach your bloodstream and go systemic, as some doctors might. As soon as your body reacted with heat, swelling, and pus formed, we started treatment. That happened very quickly."

"Oh." Something told her there was more, but she couldn't figure out what to ask.
I should find out how severe it is.
"I don't feel stitches." There was no way she hadn't needed them.

Benjamin took that question. "We had to leave it open to drain, but it looks like we can put butterfly tapes on it today."

She winced. "I guess I'll have a scar then."

"A small one."

James grumbled a curse. Jason settled a hand on her shoulder. There was something comforting in both of their reactions. She found herself paying more attention to them than she did to the doctors working on her.

At last, Benjamin wrapped a fresh bandage around her arm and secured it. "The bandage will need to be changed twice a day. You will have oral and topical medications. You will be on bed rest for a week or so. We will send you back to your rooms with instructions for Marietta."

Steven took over. "Would you like James and Jason to take you back to your rooms, or should I call Marietta to come collect you?"

"James and Jason." She studiously avoided looking at them.
I just don't want Marietta hovering.
It was as good an excuse as any other and Samara vowed to stick to it.

"Very well." Steven piled used supplies onto a metal tray. "Marietta will have a meal waiting for you when you arrive."

Benjamin passed him on his way to the door. "I will order the car to the side door for you."

"Car?" Samara protested. "It's only the other side of campus." She could walk there in a matter of ten or fifteen minutes.

"Bed rest." Jason forced the words out through the end of a yawn.

James snuggled closer. "I could carry you instead."

That sounds waaaay too appealing.
"The car will be fine, thanks."

His expression was nothing short of mock disappointment.

Any more cheese on that and he would be pouting.

The doctors left the room with what looked suspiciously like imperfectly masked grins on their faces.

James didn't waste any time. He vaulted from the bed, then strode across the room in nothing but a pair of jeans.

Over deliciously tight buns. I bet he's commando.

He collected a plush blue robe and headed back with it, giving her an enticing view of his sculpted abs and the outline of his cock.

"Maybe I do want to know." Samara considered the idea carefully.
College is supposed to be the time you experiment, right? And it's not like I can get pregnant from it. Why shouldn't I find out for myself if they are as good as their promises—and my vague memories of last night—attest they are?

James stopped short, shooting her a questioning look.

Time to go for broke.
"Maybe I do want to know where a night with the two of you would go."

His cock lengthened and thickened behind his jeans, fighting containment therein.

Jason laid a kiss on her neck that made her shiver in delight. "That can be arranged."

She sighed. "If Marietta ever lets me out of her sight again."

James grinned widely. "Marietta likes us."

Samara doubted she liked anyone that much.

* * * *

Jason rearranged his cock, cursing the tight jeans for the third time since awakening in bed with Samara. She didn't look in his direction, but her sudden intake of breath said she was well aware of what he was doing.

"One of the servants mentioned a back way into the dorms?" she hinted.

James shot a look of confusion her way. "There is, but why would you want to use it?"

She fidgeted for a moment, then stiffened. "It's just… You carrying me in. Everyone watching." Samara shrugged.

"I could see how that might be embarrassing," Jason admitted.

The time would come when Samara would know there was nothing shameful or weak about being carried by her mates, but that day had not arrived.

James tipped his head and ordered the driver to pull around to the back. "We can take the servants' elevator up."

"There's an elevator?" She was probably wondering why she had to walk the stairs all the time.

"You can use it anytime you wish." James waved toward the approaching door.

If she's going to, she might as well know the facts about it.
"It's a freight elevator and not all that comfortable."

"Or fast." James crinkled his nose in distaste. "You could walk the stairs faster than the beast moves, but if you have an injury or are very tired, it is available to you."

"Sounds good." Samara sounded tired.

Jason wondered if she might beg off the night with them, out of sheer exhaustion and the need to heal.

The car pulled to a halt and James moved to pick her up again. Jason shot him a look of frustration, and his brother relented, probably realizing that he was monopolizing carrying their mate and leaving Jason to be the fifth wheel.

Samara fit in his arms like she was born to be there, and Jason memorized every sensation as he made his way through the door James opened for them and then into the elevator.

James hadn't been exaggerating about the speed of this ancient piece of junk. Though it was meticulously maintained and smooth-running, it could lose to the mythical tortoise.

Jason didn't mind that, since it meant all the more time with Samara in his arms. She didn't question why he was carrying her…or why James had earlier, though it seemed the hierarchy of wolves within the pack was still alien to her.

Yet another thing we have to teach her.
He didn't begrudge her not knowing. Every piece of information she was lacking granted himself and James the time to teach it to her.

The elevator opened, and James led the way out, then to the hall doorway. It wouldn't be appropriate to cut through Marietta's rooms, so they went the long way, down the hall and into the front door to Samara's room.

Marietta was there, waving them in and giving useless commands.

Does she think we won't show Samara the care of putting her in bed and tucking her in?

The servant chattered on and on.

"I will have your meal brought up immediately."

"Let me fluff the pillows for you."

"You're so cold! I'll bring another quilt."

"No, don't you dare get up! I will help you to the toilet, if you must go."

That was where Samara drew the line, her Alpha personality coming out to play. And it was glorious.

"I am more than capable of walking to the bathroom."

"Benjamin said—"

"He is as overprotective as you are."

"If I relent and let you go by yourself,
will
you get into bed and rest for a while?"

Jason swallowed a snort of laughter. He never would have guessed Marietta could be so flummoxed.
And by an injured Alpha who doesn't know her own power and is unsteady on her feet.

Samara seemed to consider that. "Yes, but you should know I invited James and Jason to come back after dinner for a movie tonight."

Marietta moved her lips as if to talk, then clamped them shut into a thin line. She nodded, then waved Samara toward the bathroom.

Once she disappeared inside, James let loose a laugh, muffled into his hand.

Marietta turned on them, a fierce warning glare on her face.

Jason cracked a smile sure to infuriate her.

"She needs her rest," she whispered.

"We know more than a few ways to help her sleep." James's falsely innocent answer wouldn't fool a complete stranger, let alone Samara's servant.

"She enjoyed sleeping between us." Jason hurried to offer an explanation before the old she-wolf decided to gut his brother.

Whatever she might have said next short-circuited at the sound of Samara flushing the toilet.

Samara left the bathroom wearing a long, silken sleeping gown, having shed the medical gown and robe in the other room. Their mate made her way to the bed, then slipped under the covers, revealing an enticing peek at her legs in the process.

Jason salivated at the thought of touching her again.

"Well, now," Marietta said. "If you two don't mind… Samara should eat and rest. That way she won't fall asleep during your movie."

The need to protest rose up strong. He swallowed it at Samara's wave and smile.

"Eight?" Her suggested time confirmed that Samara ate an early dinner, in the American style.

Jason's heart lightened at the invitation. "Not a minute later. You have my vow."

James executed a formal bow. "Until tonight."

* * * *

Samara watched them leave, the slow simmer warming her belly.
And below.

Marietta disappeared for a moment, then returned with a tray of soup and crackers and a plate of fruit. She set it on the table beside the bed and laid a large napkin across Samara's lap.

She'd hoped for something more substantial and her stomach growled in complaint.

As if she'd spoken the thought aloud, Marietta answered it. "Benjamin says you can have a full dinner, if you keep this down."

Don't rock the boat. She's not complaining about James and Jason spending time in my room.
"Makes sense. Take things slowly. Right?"

Marietta seemed surprised at the capitulation. She sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed Samara's hair. "This has been a strain on you, I know. Why don't we do this? You eat. After that, I will help you get a nice hot bath, we'll change your dressing, and you can rest until dinner."

Samara leaned closer to her and gave Marietta a hug. If questioned, she couldn't have recounted why she chose to do it, but it felt right.

Marietta rocked her for a moment, then settled Samara back into the pillows with what appeared to be a heartfelt smile. "Now, let's get some food in you."

* * * *

Samara watched the line of servants carrying flowers, stuffed animals, and boxes, her eyes wide. "What is all of this?"

One of them turned and offered a stiff bow. "Well wishes for the injured Alpha."

"But… But I don't even know this many people." That wasn't an exaggeration.

Marietta laughed. "They know you. It is our way to offer comfort when someone is injured or ill."

Our way. That reminds me, I have questions for her about that subject.

Samara realized the servants were standing there, seemingly waiting for her to say or ask something else. "Thank you."

The one who'd addressed her smiled and nodded. In moments, the dressers and tables in the room were covered in gifts. The male servants left the room and closed the door behind them.

Samara sighed. "I suppose I should write thank-you notes to everyone." It was one of the many courtesies her mother had drilled into her.

"When you feel up to it." Marietta dismissed her concern with a flitting of one hand. "If you wish, I can make a list of the gifts and who sent them to make it easier."

"That would be nice. Thank you."

Marietta pulled a pen and tablet out of the desk drawer and started recording the information. "Is there anything you would like closer to the bed?"

"The lavender…and maybe a few of the stuffed animals?"

Marietta smiled. "The lavender is from James and Jason."

"How did they know…?"

"That it's your favorite?"

Samara nodded.

"My two best guesses are that they either realized you favor soaps and perfumes that include the scent or they saw you in the gardens. You tend to sit by the lavender."

"I suppose that makes sense."
And it means they've been paying attention to what I like.
Samara couldn't decide if that bothered her or impressed her.
Think about it later.
She scanned her gaze along the gifts, wondering what the boxes held.

"Oh, here is something from Christiana and her family."

"Has anyone checked it for poison?" The question was out before Samara considered how rude it might sound.
Who cares! She stabbed me.

Marietta stiffened. "She wouldn't dare!"

"Oh, she dares a lot."

"True, but I doubt that will continue."

"Was she at least punished?"

Marietta shot her a look of disbelief. "Of course. Though all evidence points to her making a mistake—"

"Please tell me you're not defending her."
Are you kidding me? Seriously?

"No. Nothing like that. And I fully endorse her being expelled, as she was." She hurried over to the bed, the tablet in one hand and a box in the other. "You see… Christiana had two types of daggers. The one she used was lethal, but she'd
thought
she grabbed the nonlethal one…a trick blade, I believe they call them. She meant to scare you, not kill you."