KYLE
The faint smell of antiseptic lingered in the air, clinging to my skin as I sat up in the hospital bed. It had been two days since the attack, and though my body was far from fully healed, the itch to do something pressed me. I couldn’t just lie there while danger circled Valerie like a pack of vultures.
Chris sat across from me, his arms folded, watching me closely. His silence was heavy, expectant, as if he knew exactly what was going through my mind.
“This can’t go on,” I said, breaking the silence. My voice was rough, like gravel scraping against stone.
Chris raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
“I mean it,” I continued, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. Pain shot through my side, a sharp reminder of how close I’d come to not surviving that fight. “Alpha Rivers
