Page 58 of Heart of Dawn
“He’s hurt… He’s hurt… I have to…”
I couldn’t go after him like this. He needed me fighting-fit. He needed me to recover before I set off to save him.
“Ori…”
“Talk to me, sir,” James implored.
I brought myself down to reason, trying to be as cool as possible.
Fuck.
I looked at James, seated on the end of my bed, his dark brown complexion painted by the soft light of a wind-up lantern. The scar on the left side of his face looking angrier than usual.
“Hey,” I answered.
He wore a green baseball cap turned to the side—a James London staple.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his Yorkshire accent an oral glow.
I was topless, covered in bandages, any pain muffled by painkillers in my system and my werewolf healing. You could always count on Paige to make things right when you needed a patch up.
It took everything not to collapse under another onslaught of relief.
“I’m alright,” I said. “Better for sleeping. You?”
“Fine, thanks. Happy to see your face.”
I rolled my shoulders, fighting some grogginess. “Where are we?”
“Hospital. Handy, right?”
Blinking away some of the haze, I scanned my surroundings to see a ward of eight beds, mine closest to the door. The others were occupied by the other members of my pack apart from Paige. Trev, Daria, and Basil weren’t here either, but the Gilmore family were.
They were all looking at me with concern.
The windows were boarded, sealed around the edges by thick masking tape. Rain battered the outside, an angry wind howling.
Cate hurried over. James stood up, linking arms with his wife.
“I’m so glad you’re here, sir,” she said, her usually cool vibe completely broken. And she seemed a lot paler than usual. “So, so glad.”
Paige and Trev entered the ward, my medic giving me a hug. Gently, but heartfelt. I held her, closing my eyes, basking in her warmth, taking in the fair, rosy hues of her freckled cheeks.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“My pleasure, sir. Always.”
I wanted to cry, my emotions caught in a blender on the highest setting, the lid loose. But I held it together because I always had to hold it together—especially in the presence of my pack. I was their leader, not some creature made of tissue paper.
Always strong. Always here for them.
But Ori… I need my Ori. My sweet, sweet cherrypie…
Basil entered, offering me a nod. “Good to see you again. Thank you so much for saving me.”
“You good?”
“Much better, thank you. Still a few yards to go until I can start healing again.”
