Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“Dalton made it,” Beau announced as we moved toward the front door. “Alice is working on the boy now.”
“She needs to hurry,” Daniel replied as we entered the house.
He was limping. I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong with his leg but got distracted by the view.
The house was beautiful inside. Large and open, it even smelled good. I looked everywhere I could without lifting my head. There was a large stairway off to the side, an antique hutch, and fancy wallpaper with little birds on it. I’d been letting the blood drain out of my mouth, but I sucked it back as we moved over the hardwood floors, trying not to stain them.
“Danny,” a sweet voice called out as we entered a brightly lit room. “How can I help?”
I squinted against the light.
“We need to get her clothes off,” Daniel replied as he gently placed me on an uncomfortable bed with a railing on one side.
It took me a moment to realize it was a hospital bed.
What the fuck?
I glanced around the room. Six feet away, a small woman was wrapped from head to toe in a green cap and scrubs, ordering the person next to her quietly. Her hands flashed in and out of view. At the head of the bed, my Uncle Dalton stood with his hands on Seamus’s head. My cousin’s face was covered with an oxygen mask. His skin looked gray.
Beyond them, Ian, Grant, and Aunt Halle stood along the wall. Grant’s head was tipped down, staring at the floor. Aunt Halle’s eyes were squeezed shut, Ian’s arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders.
I met Ian’s devastated gaze and held it until he looked away.
Shelves and cupboards lined the room. There was a sink in the corner. A backboard rested against the wall opposite my family. Chance and Erik stood next to it.
“What are you doing?” I gasped as cool air blew over my thighs. I slapped at the hands pulling my trousers down.
“We have to see your wounds,” Daniel said, catching my hand.
“Wait.”
My cousins were right there. So were Daniel’s father and brother.
“We can’t wait,” the sweet voice replied. She lifted her head to look at me, and my mate’s brown eyes stared back from a stranger’s face.
“Your mom,” I whispered, letting my head fall back.
“Yes,” Daniel replied, messing with my shirt.
I closed my eyes as cool air hit my chest and then my arms.
“Danny,” his mom called, her voice rising an octave. “Erik, come help me.”
“Great,” I mumbled. “Invite everyone over.”
No one paid any attention to me as multiple pairs of hands touched me, pressing and pulling. I could barely feel it anymore. Gauze pressed against my cheek, and then my pop’s voice was in my ear.
“Hold on, Flower.”
I tried to answer him, but my mouth didn’t seem to be working anymore.
Sometime later, it was Daniel in my ear. “Bite, baby.”
The scent of his blood filled my nostrils, and I clenched my teeth around his skin.
“It’s coming out her cheek,” someone murmured.
“She’s still getting some,” another voice replied.
“Let her take as much as she can.”
“I know,” Daniel said, his voice still near my ear.
Then there was nothing but a bitchy voice barking orders.
I faded in and out, never once opening my eyes, even when I felt someone’s hands on my face, another set holding my head in place.
Somewhere in the darkness, I stared into Seamus’s wide, scared eyes. When I opened my mouth, no sound came out. We just looked at each other, both of us terrified.
Chapter 14
Daniel
“Idon’t know,” Aunt Alice told me for the fiftieth time, her voice less patient than it had been hours before. “Once she’s awake, I can check.”
“She’s already healing,” I said desperately, running my hand down Rosemary’s arm. “That’s good, right?”
“Of course it is,” Alice replied. She turned away and walked back to the other bed where Dalton’s youngest son, Seamus, lay.
The boy had survived the surgery to remove the bullet and repair the damage. The bullet had entered through the front, but lodged extremely close to his spine. He hadn’t woken up, but they knew he would—and thanks to his genetics, he’d be fine. His mother sat in a chair next to his head, her hand on his shoulder. Dalton sat at the foot. Their sons had fallen asleep on the floor just as the sun rose. The younger one’s head was pillowed by Thunder’s torso. The dog’s snores were oddly pleasant in the silent room.
Alice had worked all night, patching the rest of us up. I realized after we’d finished with Rosemary that I’d been slowed down by two bullets in my thigh. I’d barely paid any attention as Alice had dug them out and sewn me up, watching Rosemary’s slow and even breaths.
My father had taken a bullet in the chest. Ambrose had a large cut down the side of his stomach. Beau had dislocated three fingers and had a graze wound up the side of his forearm.