Chapter Twenty-Eight
Krac’s fingers shook as he gently traced the delicate outline of Skeeter’s cheek. Her hair was spread wildly out over the soft gray pillow. A tender smile curved his lips at the dried paint on her.
“She is well?” Bulldog’s gruff voice asked from the doorway.
“Yes, just sedated,” Krac responded, continuing to tenderly caress her. “She is beautiful.”
“She is the sun. She gives life to the world around her,” Bulldog murmured. “I will watch over the other male. If I’m lucky, he’ll try to attack me and I can watch him try to heal himself again.”
Krac shook his head and bit back an amused chuckle. “How did you manage to maim and dismember with Skeeter around? She faints at the sight of blood.”
“I know,” Bulldog muttered, turning to leave. “I had to cut back a lot until
