Page 114 of Ruthless Alpha Beast

Page List

Font Size:

Her gaze darts around, disoriented, and then finally locks onto me. Her panicked expression eventually softens when she sees me.

She looks fragile, softer as she begins to make sense of her world.

“You’re okay,” I tell her, squeezing her hand. “You’re back at the pack. You’re okay.”

She nods with her eyes and then swallows.

I get up and grab her water. Cradling her head in my hand, I slowly bring the cup to her lips.

She closes her eyes as she sips it down.

Once she’s finished, I lay her back down, and she props herself up.

“Easy,” I say. “You’ve been in a lot of magical pain. I don't fully know what that’s done to you, but it didn’t exactly look like a joy ride.”

She inhales.

“Do you want a blanket?”

She shakes her head.

Then she looks at me, and in her face cracks a small smile.

“Well,” she says. “I could get used to this.”

I laugh. Laughing almost feels inappropriate, but in some ways it’s needed.

“Well, at least you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

That small grin makes my heart ache.

“Hey, for a second there, I almost did.”

Her voice is raspy, broken, but at least she’s talking. I didn’t realize how much I missed her voice until now.

“Stay here,” I say. “I’ll bring you anything you need. Or I can get Danielle.”

“No,” she says, quickly. Her hand twitches against mine, a subtle squeeze, but enough to send a warm sensation that surges through me. “Don’t leave.”

My chest tightens, and I shake my head firmly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I settle down beside her, unwilling to put even an inch of space between us. “Rest, Tara. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

She sighs, her breathing steadying before she flutters her eyes shut. I stay there, watching her, guarding her—vowing to myself that nothing will hurt her ever again.

***

She smiles softly.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t leave!”

“I didn’t,” I say, carrying Tara’s care package and settling it down by her bed. “This was hand-delivered by the pack.”

My Shifters banded together to make up a plate of fresh food. I’ve got water spell-bound to hydrate her with electrolytes and ‘healing’ energy—whatever that means.

She’s looking pale, slightly better, but still unwell. Beautiful as always, of course.

“This actually looks really good,” she sighs.