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His eyes widened. “Behind you.”
I spun around, my breath catching in my throat as the brush shook. I tensed, letting go of my dad and preparing to spring into action.
My shoulders dropped when the figure emerged. Sawyer.
He shoved through the brush, crossed toward us, and fell to his knees on the other side of my dad. “Let me help.” He grabbed his shirt and tore it open, ripping it all the way so we could expose his chest.
I searched the clearing, trying to find Lincoln. When I couldn’t, I reached out to him with my mind.
He answered immediately. Stay with your dad. I’m making sure no one else is out here. I’ll see if I can find help.
Knowing that Lincoln was watching out for us. I turned my full attention back to my dad. His midsection was okay, but his chest and upward looked bad. I was glad Lincoln was seeking help. We needed it. Fast.
There was a large gash by his throat. Blood gushed out of it with each beat of his heart.
I put my hand over the top of it. The sticky warmth seeped through my fingers.
Sawyer ripped his shirt off over his head. “Here, use this to staunch the bleeding.”
I snatched it, balling it up before pressing it against the wound.
My dad struggled like he wanted to sit up.
I pushed on his shoulders gently, glad that he didn’t resist. “Dad, don’t move. You’re hurt. Lincoln is looking for help. It’ll be just a few minutes. Then we will get you all fixed up.”
His lips crinkled at the corners like he might be trying to smile. He opened his mouth, but the only thing that came out was a cough. Bloody spittle flew out, covering his face with flecks of red.
I pushed against the gash harder, but if he was coughing up blood, we had other things to worry about. He probably had internal bleeding. My gaze darted back to his stomach, and I strained to see in the darkness. Gnarly bruises were forming on his midsection.
A lump worked its way up my throat. “Stay with me, Daddy, please.”
He opened and shut his mouth a few more times. “There’s nothing anyone can do for me now. I need you to listen to me, Sloane.”
I shook my head. I could barely see him through the blur of my tears.
He coughed again and drew a sharp, strangled breath. “I need you to be strong now, Sloane. The pack is yours, and they’re going to need you. You have to stay strong for them. You have to fight through this.”
A raspy sound made his whole chest tremble. “You have to win this war.”
I let out a sob. “You’re supposed to help me. You and me, together.”
He sniffled. “I wanted to show you the way, my sweet girl. Your mom and brothers will be there to help and support you.”
He gasped in a breath. “Listen…I… You have to stay strong. Even if your heart is breaking, don’t show weakness. There is some fool out there who will challenge you. Don’t grieve in front of the pack. They need to see you’re strong, even if on the inside you’re crying.”
His brows knitted together into a frown. “Do you understand me?”
I nodded. It felt like he was saying goodbye. I wasn’t ready for that. He was only in his fifties. I should have more time with him. Years.
He was supposed to see me mated to Sawyer and Lincoln, meet his grandchildren. He should be my confidant and hand over the reins to the pack when he was ready to retire. This couldn’t be it. Yet, I knew in my heart it was.
I squeezed my eyes shut as tears rolled down my cheeks. My heart shattered, and I pressed the shirt against his wound like that could somehow stop the inevitable.
He turned his attention to Sawyer. He reached out for him, his hand shaking and fumbling.
Sawyer clasped his hand and scooted closer.
My dad cleared his throat and then started to cough again. He drew another strangled breath. “You must be Sawyer. Sloane told me so much about you.”
