Pain woke me.
Sharp. Burning. Radiating from my shoulder through my entire body.
I tried to move. Couldn’t. Something held my arm down. Bandages. Heavy and tight.
“Don’t.” A hand on my good shoulder. Gentle. Familiar. “You’ll tear the stitches.”
Lycian’s voice. Rough. Like he’d been screaming. Or crying. Maybe both.
I opened my eyes slowly. White ceiling. Beeping monitors. The smell of antiseptic and herbs. Pack Medical Center.
Lycian sat beside the bed. He looked terrible. Dark circles under his eyes. Hair a mess. Shirt wrinkled and stained with something dark. Blood. My blood.
“Hey,” I whispered. My throat was dry. Raw.
His eyes closed. Relief crashed through the bond so intensely it made my chest ache. “Hey yourself.”
“How long?”
“Two days. You’ve been out for two days.” His h
