“You’re an idiot,” Riven mutters between his teeth as he pulls down the neck of my shirt.
“I’m fine,” I force out. My shoulder hurts like a bitch, but it’s not like I’ve never gotten injured before. And I fucking hate being fussed over.
My eyes flick to Daisy. She’s hovering a few feet away, her face pale.
“You’re not fine,” Riv barks. “Take your shirt off.”
Eli gasps and cover’s Daisy’s eyes. I take a deep breath through my nose. I’m not in the mood to deal with either of their shit right now. “No.”
“You want to get fucking blood poisoning again?”
“Come on, Nalle,” Eli wheedles. “Do what the nice doctor says. If you’re good, he might even give you a lollipop!”
I scowl. “Don’t call me that.”
Of course, Daisy’s ears perk right up. “What does it mean?”
Eli grins. “Teddy. His first name is Björn. It means bear. But he wouldn’t hurt a fly, so when he gets all grumbly like this, I call him teddy.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Your first name literally means Bear? Jesus, did you come out of the womb growling?”
“If you don’t remove your shirt in the next ten seconds,” Riven says crisply, snapping on a pair of gloves, “I will cut it off you.”
Wincing, I pull off the fabric. Pain rips down my shoulder, and I feel warm blood gush across my skin. Daisy gasps softly.
“Go, if it bothers you that much,” I growl.
She folds her arms. “No way. I’m not leaving.”
Riven bends, washing blood off the area with warm water, and I feel his breath on my skin as he examines the bite. “This is nasty,” he mutters, his fingers testing the edges of the wound. “What was it? Another moose?”
“Couple months ago, he found a moose that had eaten a shit ton of fermented berries off a bush, and gotten drunk,” Eli mutters to Daisy. “It got into the car park of a local school and smashed through half the cars until Cole managed to tranquillise it. Took a nice bite out of his shoulder, too.”
“It was a mother,” I say gruffly. “We found her calf nearby. They’re not usually so aggressive.”
Riven stands upright, frowning. “This isn’t a moose bite. Unless your elk somehow developed canines.”
“Husky,” I grit out through my clenched jaw.
Riven hisses in a breath. Husky bites are almost as powerful as wolf bites. He pulls a tube out of his kit. “I’m going to apply a localised anaesthetic so I can take a closer look. Check nothing has gotten into the wound. Did it look rabid?”
“Of course it didn’t look fucking rabid, we don’t have fucking rabies in this country.”
“I had to ask.”
“Yeah,” Eli drawls. “We’d hate for you to turn irritable and aggressive.”
“If you’re not going to say anything useful, why don’t you cover the car,” I spit.
“Are you kidding? There’s no way in Hell I’m going out in that.” He turns to Daisy. “Hell, I can’t believe you did. Will you save me if I have a near-death experience? Because that’s pretty hot. I’m sure I could come up with something.”
“No one is going anywhere,” Riven snips. “The snow’s coming down too badly now. Did you lift something? The edges of the wound look torn open.”
“No.”
“He was carrying all that equipment,” Daisy says, nodding to the sled by the doorway. I glare at her. She glares right back.
Riven gives me a flat look. “Well, you’re going to need stitches. Eli, can you take Daisy to your room?”
“Nope,” Daisy announces. “I’m staying here.” Her eyes narrow. “So he can’t lie.”
“It can be a bit gory,” Riven warns, snapping on a fresh pair of gloves.
She snorts. “I’m a teacher. I’m not squeamish. We once had a pregnant teen give birth in one of our classes.” She sits on the arm of the sofa, watching as Riv applies a stinging antibiotic cream.
“You need to stay in your lane,” I mutter.
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, for God’s sake. Stop acting like I snitched on you. You’re the one being an idiot here, not me, Teddy.”
Riven sews me back up, and I grit my teeth, trying to ignore the fact that I’m being watched like a bug under a microscope. “There.” He ties off the bandage, giving my uninjured shoulder a squeeze. “Now, as your doctor, I would like to recommend you go to the hospital and get this seen as soon as the snow clears.”
“I’m not doing that.”
“I figured.” He sighs, peeling off his gloves and dropping them in a yellow disposal bag. “Well, I’m done here. I have patients waiting who actually want my advice. Call me if he starts frothing at the mouth.”
Eli gets up, stretching. “I’m gonna go work on the generator some more.”
“It’s not working?” I look around. The lights are still all on.
“We’re using the backup right now. It’s not a big issue; I think the filters just need to be cleaned.”
I nod, and he leaves, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. I lean back against the sofa cushions, finally letting my eyes fall shut. My shoulder burns under the numbing cream. I know I should go clean myself up, but I’m too tired to move.
A small hand touches my arm. I open my eyes. Daisy’s standing over me, her long hair falling around her face.
“Come by the fire,” she says quietly, tugging me up and leading me closer. “You’re still shivering.”
“I’m fine.”
“You look like an extra from Saw. You’ve got blood all over you. At least let me clean you up.” She points to a roll of paper towels and a bowl of water she’s laid on the rug.
“I can just take a shower.”
“Didn’t you listen to anything Riven said? You can’t get your stitches wet.” She glances at my shirt and sweater, crumpled on the floor. “When I’m done with this, if you give me your clothes, I’ll get the stains out.”
“How do you know how to get blood out of clothes?”
“I do this really odd thing, where I bleed out of my vagina for a week every month? I don’t know why, it’s weird. Now sit.”
I don’t even have the energy to argue with her. I feel heavy, like all my bones are made of lead. She perches on the sofa arm next to me, dipping a paper towel in the water. She’s so close I can smell her—the sweet scent of peaches and cream that just seems to come off her skin. It’s so intoxicating it makes my head spin.
“Why did it bite you?” She asks, leaning over to press the wad against my throat. It comes away red with blood.
“Someone hurt it,” I grunt. “It thought I was going to hurt it, too.”
Her eyebrows draw together. “What? Why would someone hurt a dog?”
“It was at a tourist attraction near the town. Dog-sledding. Some idiots were having a dog-sled race, and one of them decided to whip his dogs to make them go faster.”
Her mouth falls open.
“The dog fell down and broke his leg,” I continue grimly. “He ran off from the pack, and the injury made him aggressive.” It took me hours to find him, and when I tried to get it into the kennel in the back of the truck, he full-on attacked me. Tackled me right to the ground.
“What happened?”
“I took him to the vet to get his leg fixed.”
“They won’t put him down, will they?”
I shake my head. “No. He’ll just be retired. Will get to be a house-dog, instead of dragging around assholes for the rest of his life.”
Her shoulders relax. “Thank God.” She tears off a new piece of kitchen roll and dips it in the water, reaching for my cheek.
I flinch away. “What?”
“You’ve got blood on your face. How did you even manage that?” She strokes the paper towel under my jaw in slow, soothing strokes, wiping out the blood that probably got dried in my beard. Her tiny fingers brush my skin. Something tightens in my chest.
I can’t handle this. I can’t handle the way she’s touching me. Even though her words are sharp, her fingers are ridiculously tender as she cleans my skin. I don’t remember the last time someone touched me like this, and I don’t want to. I’m not a fucking porcelain doll. There’s no need to pet me.
I jerk my head away from her. “Stop babying me.”
She ignores me.
I grab her wrist. “Stop it.”
She sighs, pulling back. “You’d rather sit around marinating in dried blood?”
“I can do it myself.”
“I’m just trying to help.”
“Well don’t! I don’t need your fucking help!” I don’t realise I’m shouting until she jumps. I take a deep breath through my nose, trying to calm down. “I don’t need your help,” I repeat. “Not now, and not an hour ago. I would’ve made it to the cabin fine. It was stupid for you to come after me.”
I swear to God, when I saw her out there, my heart stopped. She was stumbling through the snow like bloody Bambi. She didn’t have the right equipment on. She could’ve easily slipped, twisted her ankle, and froze to death before any of us knew about it. Hell, if it was ten minutes later, the visibility would’ve been so bad that she would’ve gotten lost and died.
She could’ve died.
She crosses her arms, standing her ground. “I’m trying to help.”
“Well don’t!” I snap. “You’re not helping! You’re a fucking liability! We were fine before you appeared, and now everything’s going to shit!”
Her eyes flash. “And how, exactly, is it my fault you got bitten by a dog? How did I cause the storm? It’s not my fault you don’t give a shit for your own personal safety. You spend all this time calling me stupid, and acting like I’m some dumb tourist, but you don’t see me walking around dripping blood. I’m not going to apologise for not letting you kill yourself.”
The firelight flickers over her face. She looks so small standing next to me. So fucking delicate.
I don’t see delicate shit. I’m used to everything around me being heavy and sturdy and strong. You have to be, to survive these conditions. And now Daisy’s here, all five feet of her, soft and small and gentle. She’s the worst possible combination: fragile, but too brave—or stupid—to care. She’s half of my weight soaking wet, but she still assumes she can keep up with me and the others.
The realisation hits me hard. She can’t stay here. If she won’t look after her own safety, we have to get her out of the North. As soon as possible. Whatever she’s running from back in England can’t be as bad as her dying from her own stupidity.
“I’ve changed my mind,” I announce. “We’re not waiting for your car to get fixed. As soon as the snow clears tomorrow, you’re leaving.”
She sighs like I’m a difficult child. “Why?”
“Because we don’t want you here,” I emphasise.
“That’s not true. You might hate me, but the others happen to like me.”
I laugh. The sound is bitter. “Please. They’re only letting you stay here because they want to fuck you.”
I know I’ve crossed a line as soon as the words leave my mouth. Silence falls between us. She blinks a couple of times. I watch throat contract painfully as she swallows.
She drops the napkins in the bin and leaves without a word.
“Wow,” Eli says in the doorway. “I left you with her for ten minutes, man.”
The door to the guest room slams shut. Even though the sound is muffled, we can both hear when she starts to cry.
