He is. Was?The sight of him torn apart is branded into my mind. It’s abhorrent to even think it, but there’s no way he could survive that. His face was torn to shreds and half his neck was chewed off.
“They’ll tell me when he’s dead, right?”
By the horrified looks on their faces, that was the wrong question.
“Poppy…” Orion’s question hangs in the air as if he’s afraid to ask it.
I swallow the acid pushing at the back of my throat. “Yeah, it’s that bad.”
"He's strong." Wylder's thumb brushes across my knuckles. "Stubborn as hell. He'll be okay."
I want to believe him.
Ineedto believe him.
But the truth is… I know better.
Wylder curses and pulls me against his chest.
I resist, pushing against the comfort he’s offering. “I’m going to get you all bloody.”
“I don’t care about that. Let me hold you.”
And I do. I sink into the safety of his arms, hoping his warmth will chase away some of the icy chill that’s taken root in my bones.
Where Asher is my soul, Wylder has become my steadying force. He’s grounded when everything around me spirals.
And Orion.
Asher and Orion have been flirty and adorably playful for weeks and are becoming something special—werebecoming something special.
My hands shake as I reach to grab his arm. “I’m sorry.”
Orion’s ice-blue eyes are glassy, but his gaze is angry. “This isnoton you, Poppy. This is one hundred percent Tharuzel. And as much as I hate how Asher’s devotion to the people he loves overrides his survival instinct, that’s who he is. It’s part of what makes him special.”
It is.
"Are you sure you're not hurt? If you’re in shock, you might not realize you’re injured.”
I consider that and shake my head. "No, the wolf was leading me. It attacked Asher because he stepped in to save me.”
For the first time, I notice the waiting room isn’t empty. About a dozen people are dotted around the open room, sitting on hard plastic chairs, and mumbling quietly to the person beside them.
The hum of vending machines, the intermittent announcements, and an old-fashioned round clock hanging on the wall provide the background soundtrack to me being stuck in this purgatory of not knowing.
Now that I’m aware of it, each increment of that second hand ticking forward stretches time out impossibly long.
How long has it been?
The door opens and the nurse I met earlier comes out. “If you three would like to come back, the doctor can speak to you now.”
Wylder shifts his hold on me, wrapping his arm around my back, guiding us along in Orion’s wake.
The room they put us in is small, square, and decorated in solemn neutrals. A family room. How crazy is it that being seated in a perfectly lovely room strikes fear into my soul?
None of us says a thing, but my mind is loud with the crashing of bad news I know we’re about to receive. I close my eyes, and the shaky numbness blanketing me burns off. In its stead sits a tidal wave of grief waiting to burst through the dam of my emotions.
Time moves like sludge.
