Aron shifted Nevaeh in his arms, holding her securely to his front, careful that she did not make any contact with the forest floor. While she wrapped her legs around his waist to settle more comfortably, his arms cradling under her bottom, she braced her broken wrist protectively against her chest. Hissing, she eyed the dark bruise that had already blushed her skin, and the ugly protrusion of misplaced bone easily notable underneath. The bone would need to be reset before the healing began to take hold or it would mend wrong. The mere thought of that procedure twisted her stomach.
Not only had her bone been broken, but the devilish hand had squeezed so hard, the pressure bit into her skin, ringing her wrist with a nasty purpling-black. If it had held her any longer, there was
