I hold my breath.
“He’ll live.”
My lungs expand as I inhale. The first real breath I’ve taken in the last four hours. Ilaria is saying something else—details of what was done during the surgery and the expectations for the recovery process—but I barely hear it as only two words are running on repeat through my brain.
He’ll live.
Drago
I f*****g hate hospitals.
The smell alone brings up the worst of my memories.
Glancing down at my side, my eyes fall on Sienna’s sleeping form. When I woke up, she was in the bed next to me, her face snuggled into my neck while she held my upper arm in a viselike grip. She didn’t even stir when the doctor came in earlier, rambling about my wounds. I cut the woman off the minute she started speaking and told her to return when my wife was awake. I
