Defining the Luna

Chapter 90

Garrison

As Donovan carries me through the forest, I do the best I can to convince myself this is the manly thing to do. Admitting you need help isn't easy for anyone. Thus it has to be the most masculine decision. Although, as he treks through boulders and broken branches, I can't help but feel like a pathetic pup, especially with my bare ass so close to Donovan's face and my junk pressing against his shoulder. To say this shit is embarrassing would be putting it mildly.

I know jumping between them wasn't the best idea I've ever had. I just didn't want either of them to get hurt. They both mean so much to me, and I couldn't handle it if one destroyed the other. Watching Karen go in for the kill was torture enough. I couldn't imagine how I would feel if I had been too late. I'd let the asshat carry me like a damn baby if it meant I could keep them both safe.

"We're only about two miles from the boundary," Donovan says.

I place my hand over the wound, surprised to find the damage hasn't sealed entirely yet. It's not bleeding as bad as it once was, but it should feel better by now. However, it isn't the wound that I'm worried about. It's my chest that seems to hurt the most. It's almost like someone has an iron-clad grip on my heart, keeping it from beating correctly in my chest. It pounds slowly, sending a pinch of pain with every beat.

"I think I might need a break," I cough through the words, feeling as if my lungs are made of stone. Perhaps it will spread throughout my entire body until I'm nothing but a fine-ass werewolf statue.

"No breaks. We don't have time to sit around with our fingers up our asses," Donovan growls as he readjusts me on his shoulder. "I'm getting you to our Theta as fast as I can. He's the lead doctor, and only he will be able to tell us why you aren't healing properly,"

I let my head hang toward the ground, allowing the blood to rush to my head. After a few minutes, the pressure begins to build, causing my head to beat at the rhythm of my pulse. I can feel the beginning of a migraine, but I still don't move my head. The rushing of blood to my head seems to lessen the pain in my chest, and something tells me I'm going to need all the release I can get.

When we finally break through the back boundary line, I place my hands over my head and hold as still as possible. Maybe if the pack thinks I'm unconscious, they won't judge me as much for needing help. However, it doesn't take long for me to realize that won't work. Worried voices echo around me, chattering about the possibilities. I hear words like a vampire and bleed dry through their speech, telling me the rumors of our guests have already made their way around the pack. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Doesn't your pack have better things to do than to stare at me?" I grumble as I place my hands over my hair. My head feels like it will explode, and I'm torn between letting the blood rush to my head or my heart.

"Move along. There's nothing to see here. Fletcher, check on Brae in the dungeon. She was acting a little strange, and she may need a familiar face to pull her back to reality. Make sure that bloodsucker hasn't harmed a hair on her head. " Donovan barks, making me cringe at the words he chooses for Sandra.

I know what she is, but hearing it in such a crude way makes my hair stand up on edge. If I weren't in such a weak state, I'd make the asshat pay for his choice of words. Although, the irony isn't lost on me. It wasn't but a few hours ago when I used the same term for one of her colleagues. Funny how things change with the most minuscule of changes.

"Dante, find Daniel and get an update of the situation. I want to make sure we catch every one of our intruders. Maggie, Lacie, and Clarissa round up all the pups and take them to the packhouse. I don't care what you decide to do from there, but keep them busy. I want everyone else around our borders. Nobody else gets on our land without my say so," Donovan says, in his Alpha tone, and I watch as each of them moves to obey his orders.