other side, awkwardly piling on top of him without pressing against his injuries.
Mom skirted around the hospital bed to my side.
I swallowed thickly, unable to tear my eyes from where my dad was hugging my siblings. “Is he—”
“He’s going to make a full recovery,” she told me, grabbing my arm and squeezing. Her dark eyes met mine, wet with tears and shining with hope.
I sagged against the doorframe as that news sank in, almost dragging me to my knees. “Thank, God.”
Mom turned so her back was to him, pitching her voice low so he wouldn’t hear. “I haven’t had a chance to tell him about everything that’s going on. The doctor finished with him a minute before you guys came in. He only knows about the explosion and that it’s been almost five days. But he doesn’t know about Luke, or Skye, or Norwood.”
I nodded mutely as everything in me went cold and hard. This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have with him now or ever.
She squeezed my fingers again. “I can tell him if you want.”
“No,” I managed hoarsely. “It’s on me to tell him.”
“I hear you two whispering over there,” Dad called gruffly.
Dax and Sam hedged a few inches away from the bed, but Katy didn’t get up. Her eyes found me across the room, full of understanding and resignation.
Dad’s gaze met mine and held. “What am I missing?”
“Are you hungry, Daddy?” Katy asked, pulling his attention away for a fraction of a second.
He turned his head and must have caught onto the look in her eyes. “Yeah. Maybe a burger from the cafe?”
“With extra fries and a chocolate milkshake,” Katy finished, smiling. “You got it.”
She slipped off the bed and looked at the twins. “Let’s go.”
“We just got here,” Dax argued. He glared back at her when she arched an eyebrow.
“And now we’re getting Dad food,” she replied firmly. “Let’s go.”
Dax again started to say something, but Sam shut him up with a look before standing up and heading for Katy. After a beat, Dax got up, too.
I stepped back so they could all get out before coming into the room and closing the door. The snick of the latch catching echoed in the silence.
Mom went back and sat on the bed beside Dad, reaching for his hand and tangling their fingers together. She gave me a tight-lipped, supportive smile.
I grabbed the chair that had been shoved into a corner on the other side of his bed and pulled it closer to the edge.
“That bad, huh?” Dad mused, looking down with a sigh. “Okay. Tell me everything.”
“What do you remember?” I asked, leaning towards him and resting my forearms on the edge of his bed.
“Not much,” he admitted reluctantly. “Luke and I were talking to a couple of Alphas who had some women go missing last month. It’s all a blur after that.”
“There was a bomb,” I added with a wince, remembering all-too-well the concussive blast that knocked me off my feet. “Turns out it was Norwood that set it off. Damien and Trace were long gone by the time it went off.”
“Fuck,” he muttered, his jaw clenched. “How many dead?”
“Almost everyone,” I replied softly. “The bomb took out almost every Alpha in North America, and the heirs. Griffin, Dante and I were outside when it went off, so we were okay, but the others ...”
His eyes closed in anguish as the news sank in. Pain pulled his features taut.
“Dad.”
He opened his eyes and looked at me, and I hated that I was about to add to his pain.
“Luke didn’t make it.”
He bowed his head and clenched his fist while Mom leaned against his shoulder, silently offering support that he needed. She curled around his arm, pressing against him as he realized one of his closest friends was dead.
“Dammit,” he hissed, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. His eyes were blue blazing when he lifted his head. “I should have fucking killed Damien years ago.”
I couldn’t argue with that; it sure would have saved us a lot of trouble.
“You made the right call then,” Mom told him, running a hand over his cheek and turning his head to face her. “We both know that there was no easy choice back then.”
He stared into her eyes for what seemed like minutes before he nodded, finding whatever absolution of the past he needed in her gaze.
“How bad is it?” Dad asked me.
“Bad,” I answered honestly. “Norwood has taken most of the packs on the east coast, and