Dodge was with me. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen. I started to smile, or at least tried to convince my muscles to obey me, but darkness reached up and swallowed me again.
He was gone the next time I dragged my eyes open. I felt his absence like a hole in my chest, a desperate ache that got worse with every second that passed. A whimper of sheer need, sheer grief, worked its way through my chest until it escaped.
Someone immediately moved, sliding into view, and I braced myself as Deirdre suddenly loomed over me. “Moon above us, you’re back. You’re here. How do you feel?”
I squinted and struggled to parse the sudden volley of words. It took monumental effort to whisper, “Awful.”
I meant ‘awful’ because Dodge wasn’t there, that he was gone, rather than the physical pain. I wanted to explain, to ask her what happened, but Deirdre’s expression turned worried and she hit a button to call a nurse.
“Just stay awake for me, babe. There’s something we have to talk about. You lost a lot of blood, and…”
Her mouth kept moving but I couldn’t hear anything except a loud rushing sound. I tried to adjust how I lay as an odd tension pulled on one side of my chest. The heart monitor ticked up and up and up until an alarm went off. A flood of people entered the room and then Deirdre was shoved back to the perimeter as they pushed my bed flat and started thumping on my chest and doing all sorts of things.
I exhaled and tried to tell her I loved Dodge, but nothing came out over the beeping. And then it was a struggle just to breathe.
Chapter 42
Dodge
Dodge had forgotten how fragile humans truly were. He donated as much blood as he could afford to lose to Persephone, and would have given her the rest if the doctors and Evershaw had allowed it. His plan to only give her two bags of blood went out the window when it became clear how quickly it ran through her.
The doctors thought that his blood helped slow the overall loss and started healing the many small wounds that had turned her into a sieve. The thought turned his stomach, but he knew that was why so much blood had hit the floor around the gurney.
They wheeled him out of the way, since Dodge couldn’t even stand up on his own after donating, and hooked Evershaw up. The rest of the pack gathered in a silent line outside the door, ready to help, and made Dodge even more grateful that he’d found them after so long alone.
When he finally stopped passing out every time he sat up, they let him wait in a chair next to her bed. The doctors thought they’d finally stabilized her. There were some internal issues still to be dealt with, but she needed rest and a chance for the shifter blood to work – if it was going to. Persephone still looked pale and slightly blue around the lips, and she didn’t move much even to breathe. She’d at least stopped bleeding.
Dodge meant to stay awake, to stay with her, until she woke up – so she’d know she wasn’t alone. He didn’t want her to wake up afraid. He didn’t want her to think that the bad guys still had her and had just taken her somewhere else.
The hours passed and he prayed for the first time in as long as he could remember. Even in the worst firefights and on the most dangerous missions, he hadn’t prayed. He hadn’t needed to – his training and his team carried him through. But saving Persephone was so far out of his control that he didn’t know what else to do.
He didn’t know how much time had passed before Evershaw reappeared in the doorway. Dodge tensed, his wolf already on guard since Persephone remained weak and vulnerable, but the alpha remained far enough away that Dodge didn’t feel the need to attack.
Evershaw’s expression was difficult to read. “You need to go back to the house, man. Shower, eat, sleep.”
Dodge shook his head and returned all of his attention to Persephone’s pale face. He touched her hand, careful of the IVs and various wires that attached to her. “No.”
“It’s been four days. You smell like shit, dude. I’m surprised she hasn’t woken up just to get away from you,” the alpha went on. His tone gained an edge. “And you haven’t eaten anything. You’ll