Chapter: 37

My eyelids felt like they'd been superglued together, my mouth felt dry and sandpapery, there was an itch under my right foot that was driving me crazy, and... oh yeah-the god-awful, brain-fogging bitch of a pain that weighed on my chest.

I woke up with a gasp, but that only tripled the pure agony radiating through my torso from where I'd been-

Oh gods. I'd been fucking shot. "Shit, Sera?"

That voice-rough with exhaustion, thick with relief-tugged my attention sideways. It took monumental effort, but I turned my head just enough to see-

His name dissolved into a pained groan and a throbbing in my chest that was not worth it.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." His voice was a caress against my throbbing muscles, softer than I'd ever heard it.

Kieran Blackthorne knelt beside my bed, my hand clutched between both of his. His lips brushed my knuckles, his exhale shuddering like he'd been drowning. Dark circles bruised his eyes. His hair stood in chaotic peaks, as if he'd spent days dragging fingers through it.

He looked wrecked. "That's it,” he murmured. "Thank you for waking up."

The crack in those last words would've made my eyes widen-if they didn't weigh a thousand pounds each.

Between the bullet wound and Kieran's inexplicable bedside vigil, I wasn't sure which was more shocking.

The door opened then, bringing in external chatter from the hospital corridor before it faded as the door closed.

A man in a white coat smiled kindly at me from the doorway. He had a name tag on, but I couldn't read what it said.

"Mrs. Blackthorne"-he beamed at me-"well done."

Huh. "Miss-" Once again, my tongue hadn't quite woken up, and I couldn't correct his mistake.

Kieran didn't either.

"You were quite lucky, Seraphina," the doctor said, adjusting his clipboard. "That silver bullet should have killed you. But without a wolf's accelerated metabolism, the poison spread more slowly. What would've slaughtered a full-blooded werewolf merely... severely wounded you."

I mentally scoffed at the irony that the inhibition that had been a source of pain and ridicule my whole life had saved me.

The doctor moved closer and began performing routine checks- flashing a light into my eyes, checking my blood pressure and oxygen saturation, and performing a number of other procedures I was too tired to follow.

"Everything looks good," he declared when he was done, and Kieran exhaled in relief.

"The hard part's over," the doctor continued, "but your human biology means a longer recovery. No wolf healing for you."

I managed a faint nod. I was alive by some miracle. No way was I going to bitch about the fact that it would take me a while to heal.

The fog in my brain was beginning to clear slowly but surely, and the gravity of the situation fell heavily on me.

Someone had shot me. With silver. This wasn't random violence.

Kieran's warning after the rogue attack echoed in my skull. I'd been naive to think my family's disdain would protect me.