Darius's POV
"If you three weren't Alphas, you'd all be lying flat in the ICU right now, not sitting here with your spines straight pretending nothing happened."
The nurse snapped the suture thread with more force than she needed. Her gloves were smeared with blood that belonged to every Voss man in the room, and her patience had run out somewhere around stitch number twelve.
The doctor had wanted us in beds. None of us had agreed. I suspected that was the real reason she was this angry.
The air smelled like antiseptic and copper. The overhead lights buzzed too loud. Not one of us was willing to lie down while Kate was still unconscious two doors away.
Damian's chest had been freshly bandaged. The gauze was already darkening again. He sat with his back perfectly straight, one hand bra
