191 Ava: Mom’s Legacy (IV)
Vanessa’s visit is a welcome distraction from Selene’s refusal to come out from beneath the bed.
She’s searched thoroughly, even her bag of medical supplies, before Marcus allows her to step foot into my room, as if she hasn’t been one of my biggest supporter ince stepping onto Westwood lands.
“Looks like security’s been upgraded,” she says with a laugh. “I owe Vester dinner.”
“Dinner?” Watching as she slides the blood pressure cuff over my arm, I smile faintly. “Did you guys have a bet?”
“We always have a bet going. I usually win. Uncross your legs and relax your arms.”
A quick check of all my vitals has her nodding in approval. “Still doing good. Did you get any check–ups done while you were back on pack lands?”
“Nope.”
“Of course you didn’t.” She snaps my file closed with a sigh. “Kellan should have thought about it while you were there, but with. everything going on… Mmm. I can see how it would be missed.”
The entire pack is in an uproar. I’ve barely seen Lucas in two days.
“They have the entire Council coming. Even Clayton. Kellan’s here to take over for the duration of their emergency session,” I explain,
not sure how much Vester’s told her.
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191 Ava: Mom’s Legacy (IV)
“So I’ve heard. Open your mouth.” Using her tongue depressor to clear her field of view, she inspects the back of my throat with a soft hum. “Your tonsils are swollen. Have you been snoring?”
“I have no idea.” Of course, my mouth is open with what looks like a popsicle stick holding down my tongue, so it comes out more like, “A–ha–ho–ihea.”
Yes, Selene offers up from her place beneath the bed, as Vanessa finishes violating my mouth with her
ressor.
After swallowing a few times and moistening my mouth, I mutter, “Selene says yes.”
“We’ll keep an eye on it. Hopefully you aren’t about to come down with a cold or anything.” There’s a dubious note to Vanessa’s voice, and I remember that she’s a healer to shifters.
They don’t get things like colds. Or illness in general.
Injury–related issues, sure.
Or poisons.
Which begs the question once again, why are all of my bodyguards supposedly ‘retired“? An aging shifter is not the same as an aging
human.
I wonder if Vanessa knows.
“Vanessa-”
“Hold on, let me finish.” Her cool fingers brush against my neck, tapping and pressing4n spots that only make sense to her. Then she checks over all my limbs and my chest and back, nodding to herself at times and occasionally giving me orders, like take a deep
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191 Ava Mom’s Legacy (IV)
breath or stop jiggling your leg.
“You seem to be back to your normal self, which is great news for Jericho. He wants you to start training again tomorrow.”
Despite my new resolve to become more mature, responsible, and (above all) stronger, a groan escapes me. “Really?”
It would be a lie to say that there isn’t a part of me that wishes. power would just appear in front of m nd embrace me within it, so I don’t have to go through the hell or training.
But as convenient as that would be. I’m not stupid enough to think it actually happens to people, so I straighten my slumped shoulders, clear my throat, and meet Vanessa’s amused stare with as much professionalism and Luna–like poise as I can muster. “I mean, that sounds great.”
“Yes, I’m sure it does. Don’t push yourself too hard. I warned him to take it easy on you to start.”
“Small blessings.”
She laughs as she packs everything away. “You’re the one who told him you wanted to get stronger. I’m not sure what you were expecting.”
“I know, I know. I do want to get stronger. It’s just that Jericho’s version of training is a circle of Hell that’s better left undisturbed.” Watching her brings a cozy sort of comfort to my chest. Something deeper than a healer–to–patient relationship.
It’s unfamiliar, but it’s nice.
“Hey, Vanessa?” My fingers twist around each other, a nervous
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habit I can’t seem to break. “Have you figured out how to deal with my mother?”
Vanessa’s lips twitch, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “Trying to avoid training with Jericho, are we? But tonight would be better! A laugh bubbles out of me, the sound a little too high–pitched to be genuine. We both know that visiting my mother is far worse than any hell Jericho could put me through on the training grounds, but the attempt at levity is appreciated.
191 Ava Mom’s Legacy (IV)
I peek at her through my fingers, grateful to hear how amused she is, instead of irritated. “I know. I get it. But still. It’s too much.”
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