“Shhh,” she whispered. “He frightened me. But it’s okay. It’s okay now.” How was it she was talking him down from — “It’s pack, right? The word. For all of you together. How many of you are there? Can you — there’s so much I want to know, but if you don’t want to … ” She twisted to look at her ankle. “You could help me ice my ankle? Instead?”
“I’m never quite sure. I mean, there’s a few wolves, but there’s some humans too, like Stiles and Lydia…and you too, if you wanted to?” he murmured shyly and then slowly splayed his hand across her ankle, smiling tenderly. “I have a better idea – watch this,” he murmured as the veins in his arms blackened and he took the pain from her. “And whatever you want to know, just ask me, okay?”
“H-how did you — ?” The pain just … went away. Not instant, the way it would if she could doing painblocking for herself, but seeping away, the way water drained from a bathtub. She stared at her ankle, then at his arm. She could /see/ badness running under his skin. “But — that looks like it hurts. And, and — did you heal it? Can I, should I walk on it again? I didn’t know werewolves could do healing … what else can you do?” She realised she was starting to babble with shock, and closed her mouth.
Too much, all at once. It was overwhelming. She looked down at her hands, which didn’t hurt any more either, and saw the trailing edge of one of the roughened patches of skin. Not healed. “And you say I’m amazing.”