FIFTY | BED REST
Drew
Ninety-six days. That’s how long I’ve been laid up in this filth hole, fighting for my life. I don’t know what those Blue Moon f***s did to me, but I haven’t heard from my wolf Killian since I woke up, and without him, I’ve been unable to heal properly.
Three months of lying in bed dealing with the pain of shattered knee caps, third-degree burns, broken bones, deep gashes and punctures, and disgusting infections. But the pain I can deal with; it only lasts for so long. Bones and burns would heal, and gashes would eventually close. Some things, though, would never heal. Not everything could be rectified with time.
When the Gamma took that saw and cut off my right arm, I’d never before felt that type of agony. And he watched as I screamed and kicked. He made me we
