His Estranged Mate

Chapter 59: Plans.

CONNOR

The unbearable urge to scratch at my chest has me opening my eyes. Blinking a few times to focus around me, I narrow my eyes when I spot the familiar cream coloured ceiling above me.

Why am I in the infirmary?

As if being triggered by the question, images of the witch throwing the dagger at Fenris and me running in between to take it on me instead, runs past my mind and has me alert and very much aware of the bandaged-up wound on my chest, which is itching like hell as of now.

Shifting my head, a bit, I try to look at my chest but it proves to be impossible with the number of sedatives given to me. My entire body feels numb only the chest region active enough to itch.

The beep of the machine beside my cot causes me a headache now as I try to scratch at my chest, the urge unbearable and I let out a growl in frustration.

Someone gasps, alerting me that I am not alone in this room and my wolf immediately perks up, my head clearing a bit as I focus my gaze around myself, taking in the small figure huddled on the chair in a blanket beside my cot.

Unable to lift my gaze from the small figure of my red-headed mate, I growl once again to hear her moan. Smiling at her response as if her brain knows my voice even in her sleep, I growl once again, playfully this time which jerks her awake.

She sits up in the chair, suddenly, her red hair flying around her before settling in rumpled waves, causing another itch to run through my body. This one makes me want to run my fingers through her long hair while I claim her lips, never wanting to let her go.

"You are awake," she cries when her gaze lands on me, and is out of the chair in a second, stumbling a bit as she leans over me, running her hands all over my face, checking me up like the nurse she is. My very own personal one.

My headache immediately reduces as the blood rushes to my nether regions, stimulated by the presence of my fiery little temptress.

"Hey, Solnyshko."

"Don't hi me," she snaps at me, trying to show her anger but I can see the pain in her eyes, the fear in them as she checks on my wound.

Letting out a sigh but also feeling a bit happy that she's scared for me, that she cares enough, and still not believing my good fortune, I lift my hand and remove the fucking embarrassing IV from my arm and throw it away.

"What are you doing?" she hisses in reprimand but then comes over to remove the needle from my arm and puts a cotton ball over it. Her touch soothes me more than the piece of cotton ever can.

Not replying to her, I simply hold my hand up for her. She doesn't hesitate, instead holds my hand in both of hers and then comes closer. I let go of her hands squeezing them first, to pull her by her waist, almost making her sit nearby my head so that I can bury my face in her lap, taking in her delicious scent.

"I was so scared," she whimpers, caressing my head and running her fingers through my hair, calming me, all itches are forgotten when I hear the sad tone in her voice.

"I am fine, Catrina. I am sorry for scaring you," I whisper in her lap, loud enough for her to hear. She gets up from the cot, leaving me feeling cold and then turns around to face me, her eyes wet with unshed tears, making me feel guilty all of a sudden.

"You shouldn't be. I just don't want to experience it again," she whispers, shaking her head as tears stream down her cheeks. Unable to take it anymore, I sit upon the cot, ignoring the pain that runs through my sternum when it jars a bit.