The weightof my surprise made my numb fingers glide down a hardened ridge that tapered off into smoothskin.
Greg was saying something, but his words banged into my eardrums without penetrating. I flung the sheet off my legs and got out of bed. When the balls of my feet hit the cold linoleum, my head spun. Two sets of hands wrapped around my upper arms to steady me—Greg’s andAugust’s.
The tan-colored wall swam in and out of focus. I shrugged their hands away, then padded into the bathroom in my hospitalgown.
Cold air snuck through the papery fabric, wrapping around my bare skin, bringing more goose bumps to thesurface.
I flicked the switch on the wall, or thought I did, but my fingers whispered through air, missing their mark. My second attempt, though, wassuccessful.
Light flooded the tiled space that had been scrubbed with so much antibacterial soap my nose twitched. I stepped in front of the mirror, wiped my right eye to clear it of the blur. As my vision sharpened on my reflection, a breath stumbled through my partedlips.
I raised my fingers to my face and traced the two centipede-like violet scars that started at my left temple and curved over my lid and cheek, arcing toward my ear. But the scars were hardly the most alarming thing about my face. No, what truly distressed me was the paleness of my blue iris and blackpupil.
I swallowed back the lump rising in my throat. Crying over my appearance and loss of vision felt so silly consideringeverything.
I caught movement and turned to find August leaning against the door. I palmed the left side of my face to hide mydisfigurement.
“Dimples. . .”
The pity coating his tone had mebristling.
I sidestepped him and returned to Greg. “Will my eyesight come back?” I asked, my voice surprisinglyfirm.
Eyes crinkling with grief, he shook his head. “Your scarring, in time, will become fainter—Liam’s has already improved, but he’s Alpha so you can’t really compare your healing capacities—however, your eye won’t improve. The corneal abrasion was too deep and drops of Morgan’s blood came in contact with your aqueoushumor.”
Humor . . .What a strange term for something that was decidedly notfunny.
“Do you see anything at all?” heasked.
“No.”
Henodded.
Heat glazed my cold spine. Instead of leaning into August, I took a step forward, bumping my shins into the gray base of my hospitalbed.
Greg shot out a hand to steady me. “It’ll impact your depth perception. You’re going to have to relearn how to move your body in space. It’ll probably take some time, time during which you shouldn’t drive and should exert extra caution onstairs.”
My heart pumped blood that felt like sludge through my veins. “Howlong?”
“Weeks.Months.”
Air pulsed through my nose as I thought of my new car. With my hand still covering half my face, I sat on the firm mattress. “Can I stillshift?”
“I pumped you with quite a lot of Sillin, so you might not be able to for a while still.” He tipped his head toward August. “Shouldn’t be too long, though. August can already shiftagain.”
“Completely?” I asked, watching August’s jean-cladknees.
“Yes.” August’s voice was as tight as his lockedjoints.
After a beat, I asked, “Can I gohome?”
“Yes.” Greg rose from the bed. “I’ll go get all the paperwork in order.” His hand dropped to my shoulder and squeezed lightly. “If you have any questions for me, you have mynumber.”
Lowering my gaze to the shiny linoleum, Inodded.
Once Greg left, August crouched in front of me to capture the attention I was withholding from him. His hands coasted over my kneecaps that were wedged together, the bones grinding into one another. I hadn’t yet seen the rest of my body but sensed I’d lost too muchweight.
“Dimples. . .”
