Chapter 9: The Silence

Garrick Stonehall woke at dawn on the floor of his study with his cheek on the carpet.

He did not remember lying down.

He remembered the Stone, the moon in the open roof, and a silence in his head where the wolf had lived since he was fourteen.

He pushed himself up on his elbows.

The silence was still there.

He had never been alone in his own skin before.

He took the Alpha's sword off the wall because it was the first thing he reached for.

It had hung there for eight years, and he had carried it into every fight.

Today it dragged his arm toward the floor.

He used both hands to hold it level, and the point shook.

He put it back on the hook and stood with his palms against the wall.

The doctor came at seven.

He was young, nervous, and used to being told he was clever.

He listened to Garrick's chest, shone a light in his eyes and took blood.

"Your heart is sound, Alpha," he said at last. "Your blood is normal. You're tired. There's no sign of illness."

"My wolf won't answer."

"That can happen with grief. I've read of it in..."

"Get out."

The doctor went.

Garrick sat at the desk and looked at his hands.

They were steady now and only felt wrong.

He tried to remember what he had felt every morning of the last eight years.

A hum along the arms, heat in the chest, a quiet weight behind the eyes that said he could break anything he chose.

He had thought it was himself.

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