As soon as my eyelids began to creep up, the faint light in the room assaulted my brain, making my stomach roil and I clenched them closed again. “Sorry,” I gritted out through clenched teeth. “Give me a minute.”
“There’s no rush,” the doctor said calmly. “Director? Can you offer additional assistance?”
“Of course,” Chuck agreed immediately, the air shifting around me as he moved to the side of the bed opposite where the doctor stood, placing his palm on the nape of my neck and squeezing lightly, the level of Alpha pheromones in the room rose to a nearly dizzying level. “How’s that?”
The pain in my head receded and my stomach settled. I sighed and leaned back into his grip. “Much better, thank you.”
“Can you try opening your eyes again?” the doctor asked.
“Okay,” I agreed, drawing in a dep breath as I tried to inch them open again. With Chuck’s support, the light’s impact was much less, merely making me wince as my eyes adjusted to the invasion. Once I could somewhat focus on the blurry world around me, I saw that the curtains of the only window were closed tight and the room was actually barely lit. “Oh, crap,” I huffed. “Seriously? I almost puked and there isn’t even any light in here?”
A faint chuckle next to me drew my attention to the doctor. He was slightly built, almost diminutive in stature with gray hair, kind eyes, and elven features. “Given the severity of your injury, that’s to be expected,” he assured me. “Even with a mild concussion, light sensitivity can be quite severe and yours was significant.”
For the next several minutes, Doctor Lafrentz made notes on a pad in front of him as he asked me questions, walked me through a memory test, and performed a physical exam. By the time the exam was complete, there was sweat beading on my brow and I felt like I had just finished running a marathon.
Collapsing back against the pile of pillows, I groaned.
“Are you in pain?” Chuck asked quickly.
“No,” I assured him, “just wiped out. For someone who didn’t even move from the bed, I’m exhausted.”
Dr. Lafrentz clucked sympathetically and set his notepad aside. “Do you think you are up to one more test? I’d like to check your balance and see if we can get you on your feet under your own power.”
“Sure,” I agreed. “What do you want me to do?”
The doctor shifted my legs to hang over the side of the bed while Chuck slowly eased me back to a seated position.
“Now,” he said, placing his hand against the small of my back for support, “the Director is going to start easing off the Alpha comfort a little at a time, okay?”
Oh, hell. That definitely wasn’t okay with me, but I tried to nod gamely. “Sure, any time.”
Over the next several minutes, my discomfort rose each time that Chuck’s pheromone level in the air reduced. Long before we were ready for me to try and stand, Chuck cleared his throat.
“Doctor, forgive me, but Julian is becoming weaker by the minute. I’m not comfortable with continuing to try and wean him off my assistance.”
Thank the Gods.
Dr. Lafrentz studied my face for a long moment and then nodded slowly. “Very well, Director. I’m going to leave his bandages off to allow his optic nerves time to strengthen, though.” He turned to face me. “If we leave the Alpha comfort level where it is, do you think you can stand with assistance?”
I swallowed hard but nodded. With Chuck’s arm around my waist, I slid down until my feet were on the floor. Pulling me to stand, Chuck waiting patiently while I tried to find my balance and then plodded tiny step by tiny step across the room to the bathroom door.
“As long as we’re here..” I joked dryly
The doctor cleared his throat from across the room. “Ah, dear boy, I’m not certain that your balance is quite that recovered yet.”
I sighed. I’d never been bedridden before and bedpans suck. “Fine. Let’s go back.”
ChapterSix
Chuck
With Julian tucked back into his bed and already snoring, I escorted Dr. Lafrentz to the main door. Back in my office, I doveinto the pile of paper that had been slowly overtaking the top of my oversized executive desk while I’d been distracted by Julian’s presence. I’d approved Jeremy’s weekly therapy plan for the seven new Omegas who were still settling into the program and was beginning on approving the stack of bills waiting for payment when Kade’s head popped in through my half-open door.
“You got a minute?” he asked, not waiting for an answer before dropping into the chair across from me and handing me one of the coffee cups he carried.
“Sure,” I agreed, shoving the invoices to the side. “You make nice with Fang?”
Kade snorted. “In so much as that’s possible, sure.”
