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Chapter Nine

    My head felt thick, like I was trying to think through a dense veil of smog. And why the hell didn't I wake up in the middle of the night for a drink like I always do. It felt like my mouth was glued together with how dry it was. There was a foreign, uncomfortable weight on my face and my hand reached up to move it away, but pain blossomed in the appendage.

"No, no. Don't do that." I heard a gentle voice that was soothing and so familiar. I instantly felt safe, even as my mind tumbled over itself trying to figure out who it belonged to.

My eyes fluttered from the too bright light confronting them as I attempted to open them. "Ouch," my inaudible voice was scratchy like after a long hard sleep.

"I know, Honey." That voice.

My eyes began to focus, and everything else followed. I heard the beeping of my heart. I felt the coarseness of the hospital bedding I was in. I saw the bright fluorescent lighting that was shining directly on me.  And the man next to me. Wulfric was standing next to the bed I was in, and he wasn't looking at me like a piece of furniture anymore. Concern and relief reflected in his tired eyes as he looked down at me, my IV'ed hand wrapped in his much larger one.

"What happened?" My voice was a little stronger, although just as painful.

His forehead wrinkled a bit, and he pulled up the chair that was behind him before sitting on the edge of it and leaning forward. He grabbed my hand to hold again, and I took the comfort it gave me. "You don't remember the accident?"

I hadn't until just then. The fog was slowly lifting from my mind, and the screeching of metal scraping against the road was replayed in my ears. I also recalled the other times I had awaken. They weren't long moments of consciousness, just brief minutes of the nurse putting in an IV and asking me some questions that I barely answered. But most of all, I remember the amber eyes I looked into for solace each time I woke.

I nodded my head as best I could, and for some reason I could feel hot tears well in my eyes. "The wolf." If my voice was scratchy before, it was an absolute croak now.

The hand that was holding mine tightened to a grip. "A wolf?" He leaned farther forward, his face rigid.

I nodded, and knowing I wouldn't be able to continue without a drink, looked around for a water within arms reach. My eyes moved back to follow Wulf as he got up from his position at my right side to go to the tray on my other side. He grabbed a white styrofoam cup with a red bendy straw hanging out of it, and a loud buzzing noise filled the air as he also push a button on the remote sitting on the tray. I let myself have a few seconds of appreciation for the big man as he moved. There wasn't a single thing about Wulfric's looks that I found unattractive. And I'm hurt, so I get to look.

He rounded my bed in long strides before propping the straw to my lips. My hands reflexively tried to grab the cup from him. "No, just drink." came Wulf's firm reply. I glared up at him, but did as he said because my hands felt as though they had ten pound weights attached to them at the moment, most likely a side effect from the drugs being pumped into me through the IV poking into my hand.

After a couple slow sips, I leaned my head back and took a deep breath through my mouth. And immediately wished that I hadn't. I wanted to cough and hack, but the pain in my abdomen was so fierce that I held myself perfectly still and let out a long gasp.

There was two quick taps on my open hospital door, and a young black woman walked through.  "I see you've discovered the crack ribs." She looked at me with large, sympathetic brown eyes. Flipping through the papers on the clipboard that had been hanging on the end of my bed she said, "I'm Dr. Drew, but you can call me Lillian." She gave me a quick smile as I slowly recovered from the pain. "I see that your vitals are still doing well, and that your-" she looked back down at the chart quickly before looking back at me, "fiancé has been taking good care of you."