Damon
We made it through the gates just before dawn.
My mate was cradled in my arms, limp and far too still, her blood already dried in jagged trails across my chest. The palace guards opened the gates in silence, eyes wide, faces pale. They’d never seen me like this.
They’d never seen what I looked like when I didn’t bother hiding the Alpha Wolf underneath.
The royal infirmary doors slammed open ahead of us. Healers rushed forward, gasping when they saw her state—split lip, bruised ribs, the puncture wound on her thigh already tinged with infection. I didn’t hand her off at first. My arms refused to let go.
Only when one of them whispered please, voice trembling, did I finally place her on the waiting cot.
She didn’t stir.
“Fix her,” I said, voice low. Feral. My blood was no lon
