Page 112 of Claimed By Prince Daddy

“These past few days,” Damon began, voice solemn. “It has been touch and go with you. Our healer feared you may not survive your injuries.” His voice trembled, and he fisted the sheets, as if to steel himself. “I tried to heal you, licked your wounds, hoping I would transfer my regenerative powers through saliva. But it didn’t work.”

I bit my lower lip at that, taking in that troubling information. My gaze fastened on Damon. A muscle ticked in his jaw. He refused to meet my eyes. “You know something, don’t you?” He glanced back at me. “Why do you think that your regenerating powers didn’t work?”

After a pregnant pause, he muttered, “Because of the werebear being manipulated by Dark Fae. Maybe the fae laced his claws with power to prevent a werewolf from regenerating.”

My brows shot up. “Y-You… said Dark Fae manipulated the bear…”

Damon’s lips thinned. “I owe you an apology.” He sighed. “I should’ve believed you when you said you could smell Dark Fae earlier at the trails.”

I ignored the warm flutter in my chest at his apology. “That aside, how did you come to the same conclusion that the Dark Fae were responsible for the werebear attacks?”

“When I fought the bear, I tried to force him to yield by using my dominance as alpha,” Damon said. “He wouldn’t submit. And that’s when I touched his mind and hit a metallic-like wall that enshrouded his mind.”

I nodded, my thoughts spinning a mile a minute. “One thing that makes little sense… Why did he attack us… attack me?”

“I’ve been wracking my brain over that answer since you passed out.”

A knock at the door sounded. Damon whipped his head around, a vicious snarl erupting from his chest. I flinched at the menacing air that wafted from the alpha bear. The door cracked open a bit. A head peeked around the door’s edge. The face was round, though somewhat angular, with defined cheekbones. Full lips tipped up in wry amusement. Gray eyes glimmered beneath dark brown strands.

“Would you relax, Alpha?” the male said. “Otherwise, I’ll take my leave and tend to the female’s wounds another time.”

That seemed to catch Damon’s attention, and he ceased snarling. Though his eyes remained trained on the other male’s every movement as he stepped into the room. The strange male wore faded denim jeans that hugged his muscular thighs. A white coat draped over a pressed gray shirt. The foreign male turned his gaze to me and offered a gentle smile.

“Hello, Sasha,” he said. “My name is Balin. I’m the healer of the Stoneclaw clan.”

I dipped my head. “Nice to meet you, Balin.”

Balin let out a chuckle as he approached. “Not too many people say that. Usually my greeting falls along the lines of, ‘Help me.’”

My returning giggle caused a sharp pain in my stomach.

“Let’s look at that, shall we?” Balin winked at me.

My teeth sank into my lower lip, drawing blood as the healer removed my shirt and peeled away the gauze, revealing four slash marks spanning my midsection. Dried, crusted blood and dark scabs framing the claw marks formed along the edges. I hissed through the pain. A soft snarl crested from Damon’s lips. He eyed the healer like he was the enemy invading the territory rim. I cast him a withering glare.

“Let the healer do his work, idiot.”

Damon’s eyes snapped alert, and his attention arrested on me. Balin ducked his chin, no doubt to hide his grin. Though his shoulders shook a bit.

Damon’s blue eyes darkened.

Balin leaned over me and poked and prodded at the wounds, though his touch was always gentle and never caused more than a slight wince from me. Finally, he straightened to his full height.

“Well, you will heal,” Balin said. “You are no longer dabbling with death.”

As I looked down at the grisly wounds, my stomach clenched, thinking about how close I had come to dying. A large hand closed around mine. Damon’s. My eyes lifted, connecting with his. He gazed in silence back at me.

“You will heal,” Balin reiterated again. “But it will be slow going from this point on. Though I’ve stopped the bleeding and repaired the damaged organs, you will still recover slower because you’re a latent. You’ve no wolf to aid in your healing.”

That’s what the healer thought. And I had no inclination to correct him. Let others think I was an average latent. I knew I had an inner wolf. She just couldn’t shift. I thought back to Damon’s words about an enormous wolf made of light.

Would the wolf help me if I wished for it?

I looked deep into myself. My inner wolf was still there, laying on her belly, head resting on her paws. Her coat was a little duller, a tinge of gray. Energy drained.

I heaved a sigh. “So, how long are we talking?”

“Weeks,” Balin said.

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