Abby slept soundly in the hospital bed, thanks in large part to the heavy dose of pain medication she’d been given. Joe hadn’t left her side since they’d arrived, a feat made possible only because the commander had informed the staff, in no uncertain terms, that anyone who tried to separate him from her would regret it.
She had been awake while they stitched the gash across her shoulder and upper arm. When the doctor warned her it would scar, she had only smiled.
“Then I’ll have one to match my mate,” she’d said softly, and something warm and unfamiliar had fluttered in Joe’s chest.
Joe had also needed stitches in his shoulder from the cut Archer took. He had also been informed that it would scar, but he really didn’t care. What was one more silver scar amongst all the others that litte
