When we arrived at the medical center, I moved to get out of the car, but a wave of dizziness hit me hard. My vision tunneled, black spots dancing at the edges. The last thing I heard was Alexander’s alarmed voice calling my name before darkness claimed me.
I woke to the steady beep of a heart monitor and the smell of antiseptic. For a disorienting moment, I feared I was back in the hospital after my transplant surgery. Then I felt the warm weight of a hand holding mine, and reality snapped back into focus.
Alexander lay half–sprawled in a chair beside my bed, his large frame looking uncomfortably contorted to maintain his grip on my hand even in sleep. The sight of him–powerful Alpha reduced to an awkward position just to maintain contact with me–brought an unexpected lump to my throat.
As if sensing my consciousness, his eyes snapped open, instantly alert. The relief that flooded his face was palpable.
“Summer,” he breathed, leaning forward to brush hair from my forehead. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, despite the barely contained strength I knew resided in those hands. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been hit by a truck,” I admitted, my voice raspy. “What happened?”
“You collapsed,” he explained, his brow furrowed with concern as he scrutinized every inch of my face. Dr. Miller says it was a combination of stress, dehydration, and exhaustion. Your body simply couldn’t take anymore.”
I struggled to sit up, memories rushing back. “Felix! Where’s Felix? I need to see him.”
Alexander’s expression darkened, and my heart plummeted. “He’s in intensive care,” he said slowly, his thumb making soothing circles on the back of my hand. “Summer, I need to prepare you. It’s… it’s not
good.”
“Tell me,” I demanded, my voice breaking despite my attempt at strength.
Alexander took a deep breath. “The post–surgical care for his eye was completely neglected. The socket is severely infected. But that’s not the worst of it.” His jaw clenched, a flash of pure rage crossing his features before he controlled it. “He was beaten. Badly. There’s internal bleeding, and several of his organs are showing signs of infection and failure.”
Each word felt like a physical blow. I struggled to breathe, my chest constricting painfully. “But he’ll be
okay, right? He has to be okay.”
The hesitation in Alexander’s eyes told me everything.
“Dr. Miller is doing everything she can,” he said carefully. “But if we don’t see improvement in the next
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few days…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head in denial. “No, no, no. I can’t lose him, Alexander. I can’t.”
“I know, sweetheart,” he murmured, gathering me into his arms as I began to shake. “I know.”
I pushed against his chest, wild with grief and determination. “I need to see him. Now. Take me to my son.
“Summer, you need to rest-”
“I need to see my son!” My voice broke on a sob. “Please, Alexander. Please.”
He studied me for a long moment before nodding slowly. “Alright. But you’re going in a wheelchair. No
arguments.”
I would have agreed to anything at that point. Within minutes, Alexander had arranged a wheelchair and was carefully lifting me into it, his movements gentle despite his obvious strength. The IV line attached to my arm was transferred to a portable stand, and soon we were moving through the quiet corridors of
the medical center.
As we approached the intensive care unit, Alexander paused, his hand warm on my shoulder.
“There’s something else you should know,” he said quietly. “We caught Suzanna and her son trying to flee
Silver Creek territory.”
My head snapped up in surprise. “What?”
Alexander’s expression was cold, calculating–the face of an Alpha protecting what was his. “They’re
being held securely. It appears Moore was responsible for Felix’s most recent injuries. Suzanna was trying to escape with him before anyone discovered what he’d done.”
A cold fury unlike anything I’d ever experienced washed over me. My wolf, which had been dormant for so long, stirred violently beneath my skin, demanding blood.
“I want to see them,” I said, my voice eerily calm even to my own ears. “After Felix. I want to look them in the eyes.”
Alexander squeezed my shoulder gently. “And you will. I promise you that. But first, your son needs you.”
He wheeled me through the double doors into intensive care, and the sight that greeted me shattered what remained of my heart. Felix, my beautiful, brave boy, lay motionless on the hospital bed, tubes and wires connecting him to various machines. His small body looked even tinier surrounded by medical equipment, his skin pale against the stark white sheets.
A sound escaped me–half whimper, half howl–as Alexander pushed me to the bedside.
“Felix,” I whispered, reaching out with trembling fingers to touch his hand. “Mommy’s here, baby.
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Chapter 86
Mommy’s right here.”
In my heart, I prayed to the Moon Goddess–please, let my son wake up.
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