“Your heartbeat is abnormally fast. Your temperature is high, but you’re not breaking a sweat. You have injuries and bruises that would suggest a far greater trauma than whatI’m seeing, and yet all we’re told is you need a blood transfusion. Something’s going on, and I’ll do my damnedest to protect you, but I need to know what I’m dealing with to help you.”
“It’s …” I froze, unable to find the words. How could I tell her? My entire world would be compromised.
Lynn’s clear blue eyes assessed me.
“It’s something magickal, isn’t it?”
My eyebrows went up and my mouth moved but nothing came out.
“Listen, Dr. C. I’ve lived my entire life just ten minutes outside Loren Brae. You wouldn’t be the first, or the last person, I’ve had to treat that has come to me under unusual circumstances. You think I’ve ever said a word of it? You know I love gossip as much as the next, but never would I break a patient’s confidentiality. But you have to tell me how to help you.”
“My father.” My voice was but a rasp, and I could barely lift a finger to point toward the door. “His blood.”
“Och.” Lynn glanced to the door and back to me. “That’s … that’s not really standard practice, Dr. C. Patient-to-patient transfusions hold a multitude of risks, as I’m sure you know.”
“I promise. It has to be him.” Talking was becoming increasingly difficult. It felt like I had a boulder on my chest, and Lynn’s face blurred into two talking heads.
“Stay with me, Dr. C. If you insist, I’ll grab him.” Lynn squeezed my arm, and the door opened and closed. I stared up at the ceiling, wondering why hospitals never made the ceilings more interesting. For the amount of time patientshad to lie in bed and stare upward, it would be nice if they could look at something other than boring white ceiling tiles.
“I told you he was my son.” My father’s smug tone came through the door as Lynn returned.
“Be that as it may, unless he requests you, family stays in the waiting room during triage.” Lynn came back to my side and squeezed my arm.
“He asked for me?” A curious note hung in my father’s voice.
“He did. Said it could only be you to give blood. He’s insisted, though as a doctor, he well knows the risks of a patient-to-patient transfusion.” Lynn said the last part much more loudly than the first, admonishing me, and my lips quirked in a grin.
“He’s right.” My father’s face blurred past my vision and a chair scraped across the floor. “In this instance, he needs it from me.”
“You’re certain?” Lynn was asking me, but my father spoke.
“I’m a cardiac surgeon, I well understand the risks. I agree with my son’s assessment and am available for the transfusion.” He laid his arm on the bed next to mine.
Lynn tutted her frustration but did as she was told. I barely felt the prick of the IV, and I took a deep breath, hoping the weight on my chest would ease as my father’s blood entered my veins.
Wulvers were notoriously good healers.
But even so, a trauma of this nature would require help. Our blood was different from humansand a transfusion from a regular person would do little for me. In fact, it could very well harm me.
It was just one of many reasons that my father wanted me to come home.
Add it to the list.
I closed my eyes, willing my father’s blood to be speedy in its healing, as the last few moments before the attack played through my mind.
Faelan’s disappointment in me and my family.
My father and my brothers prowling Loren Brae under the full moon instead of returning home.
Finding my father growling at Faelan and Sophie, scaring them.
Irritation flooded me.
He’d gone past overbearing to almost unforgivable at this point, and if I had the strength, I’d tell him to get the fuck out of my hospital room. He’d had no right to pull the little stunt he had at dinner the other night. I’d told him and ordered the lot of them to leave Loren Brae.
Instead, they’d stayed and run the woods in their wolf form, forcing me to defend my territory against them.
Even though they were family.
