All he wanted was water. When Lydia offered him food, Del shook his head and waved it away, countering her threats to forcefeed him with a simple c****d brow. She yielded to his mute insistence with a roll of her eyes, but inside, she was just relieved that he was awake at all. Color was returning to his cheeks, and when it came time for her to wash his arm again, he pushed the blankets down to bare it for her with his own power.
“How long?” he queried softly.
“Were you out of it?” Though it felt a little silly, she blew along his skin as she’d seen Fox’s mother do, watching the way the dark hairs on his forearm moved against his skin. “Two days. Two very long, very scary days.”
“Scary? Did something happen?”
Lydia paused, the damp cloth resting in the crook of his elbow, and looked at
