It isn''t until we''re walking that I realize still I don''t hear Selene in my head. Her presence hasn''t filled its space.
I was so focused on Lucas that I forgot my own damn wolf. That''s terrifying, in a way.
"Didn''t you say Selene''s here?"
"She was." He glances at me in the dim moonlight. "She''s been coming and going a lot. Can''t you talk to her?" He appears confused; I guess no one''s specifically told him that Selene and I can''t contact each other over long distances.
"No."@@@@
"Oh." He''s quiet as he processes that. "So you just... can''t talk to your wolf?"
I shrug. "She''s her own person. I guess it''s because she isn''t in my body."
Kellan makes an odd sort of noise in his throat. I glance at him in concern. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I''m fine," he says, shaking his head. "Your bond with Selene is just strange. Communication isn''t equal among wolves—some can have full conversations, some don''t—but you''re another level."
Ah. Yeah, it is weird. It''s become such a normal part of my life, though. "Yeah." To me, it''s strange to think someone has a wolf and can''t talk to them.
"How did you know to come here if you don''t speak with Selene?" Kellan asks.
The golden stranger''s strange friendliness and otherworldly presence flash through my mind. I open my mouth, ready to explain about Acarus again, figuring he''d forgotten the brief conversation from earlier.
Westwood might have a traitor.
The realization hits me like a sudden downpour, and I snap my mouth shut. We don''t know who it is or if they''re still here in this compound. Every word we say can potentially reach the wrong ears. My throat tightens.
"I''ll explain later," I say instead, putting heavy emphasis on the last word. I meet Kellan''s eyes, willing him to understand the unspoken message.
The receptionist''s eyes flick to me, and in an instant, her demeanor changes. The warmth vanishes, replaced by a cool professionalism that borders on frigid. "I see," she says, her tone clipped. "I''m afraid visiting hours are over for the day."
My heart sinks. Lucas is so close and yet still out of reach. I want to scream, to demand entry, to use whatever authority being his mate grants me, but I hold myself back.
That would be unethical. Rude. Terrible.
Even if it sounds pretty good right now.
"But she''s his mate," Kellan argues, his brow furrowing. "Surely an exception can be made?"
The receptionist''s lips thin into a tight line. "I''m sorry, but the rule applies to all patients, regardless of rank or relation. It''s for their well-being and recovery."
The fight drains out of me. If what Kellan says is right—if he''s lost his memories—seeing me as his mate might agitate him. Besides, if I throw my weight around here, it''ll only reinforce the idea that I''m some entitled outsider, throwing my weight around.
Kellan must sense my resignation because he squeezes my shoulder gently. "It might be for the best," he says softly. "This way, he''ll be awake and rested when you come by in the morning."
I hate that he''s right. I hate even more that a part of me is relieved. What if Lucas isn''t happy to see me? Without his memories, will he want me around?
"You''re right," I murmur, then turn to the receptionist. "I''m sorry for coming by so late. We''ll come back in the morning."
She nods, her professional mask firmly in place. "Visiting hours begin at 9 AM."
Kellan''s already turning away, heading for the door, but something makes me hesitate. I glance back at the receptionist, catching a glimpse of her face before she notices my gaze. The sneer twisting her features is unmistakable, a flash of pure disdain that vanishes as quickly as it appeared.
"Have a good night," she says, her voice pleasant but her eyes cold.
My throat tightens as I hurry after Kellan. The cool night air hits my face as we step outside, and I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of the receptionist''s contempt.
"You okay?" Kellan asks, scrutinizing my face.
I force a smile. "Yeah. Just really want to see Lucas."