Nyx’s POV
They moved him to my room. The healers said there was nothing more they could do. The silver was out of his blood. The wound was closed. Now it was just a fight between his body and the poison that was left. A fight he had to win on his own.
So I sat. In a chair by the bed. I watched the slow rise and fall of his chest. His face was pale. Too pale. Sometimes his fingers would twitch. Sometimes he’d mumble things I couldn’t understand.
I didn’t sleep much. The fear was a cold stone in my own chest, right next to the other one that was slowly killing me. But I couldn’t let the fear out. An Alpha doesn’t break. An Alpha plans.
So I planned all the things I would do to Lyra. Slow things. Painful things. Things that would make her beg for the bullet she tried to give me. The rage
