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“Hey, okay! Calm down, sweetie. Deep breaths.” He kept talking, patting her on the back. Clearly, he’d dealt with a pissed shifter or two in his career. “There we go. Well! I think Jacee has made her feelings quite clear on the matter, and this is now an issue for the two mates to work out. Wouldn’t you agree, Dr. Grant?”
Mac hurried over to the group, and it was obvious she’d heard the commotion. “I think it’s best for Jacee to stay with him, no matter how stubborn he’s trying to be. He’s going to need her, and he’ll be glad she’s there once he sees her.”
“But he said he’d leave,” Rowan fretted.
“He’s too weak to follow through,” Mac said. “There’s no way he’s going anywhere.”
“That settles it. I’m staying with him.” Jacee’s voice was firm.
“There’s a sofa under the window you can sleep on. Noah will bring you a blanket and a pillow. He’s in room three-o-five.” Mac pointed. “I’ll be along later to explain what’s happening, but I’ll give you some time alone with him first.”
Jacee wasn’t alone right away. Nick followed and set her bag in the room. Rowan came along for moral support and to check on her brother. But the second Jacee stepped inside, her eyes were only for her mate.
Micah was sleeping fitfully, his dark lashes resting like lace against pale cheeks. His hair was damp, stuck to his face, and fanned on his pillow. His chest rose and fell with harsh breaths, as though he couldn’t quite breathe comfortably. One of his wrists was cuffed to the bed rail, and the sight of it hit her in the gut. Scanning his body, she felt down his legs, lifted the sheet, and saw that his ankles were secured, too.
“Why is he chained like an animal?” Jacee fumed.
“Because of the withdrawal,” Nick answered. “They were afraid he’d hurt himself or one of the nurses.”
“He’s too sick to hurt anyone! I want them off.”
“Me, too, but we’ll have to see what Mac says.”
Those fucking cuffs were coming off if Jacee had to saw them off herself. Pulling up a chair, she sat beside Micah and laid a hand on his arm. She had to touch him, if only like this. He looked far too vulnerable, such a far cry from the wolf who’d run in the forest and made love to her. If only she’d known he was so ill.
What could she have done? Nothing but be there for him. But she was here now, so that would have to count for something.
Nick and Rowan left for a while, and Jacee just watched Micah sleep. After a couple of hours, she turned the television on low and caught the news. As usual, it was all bad. She turned to a channel that played reruns of classic sitcoms and left it there.
About three hours after her arrival, Micah began to stir. He moaned, the sound miserable, as though he was in pain.
“Micah? Sweetheart, it’s me. Jacee.”
Her voice penetrated the fog, and his eyes cracked open. At first he seemed to have some trouble focusing, but eventually he found her face. Relief warred with shame in his eyes.
“Jacee,” he whispered, “I told them not to let you see me like this.”
“We’re mates. Did you really believe they could keep me from your side?”
He tried to smile. “Guess not.”
“When you told me there were things I didn’t know, I didn’t dream you were sick.” Resting her arm on the bed, she stroked his silky hair. He turned his head into her touch.
“Too much?”
“No. Never.”
“I didn’t know about the leukemia. Until today.”
“I know.” Her throat threatened to close up with grief.
“Sorry you’re stuck with this. With me.” His lashes did a slow blink. He was already getting tired.
“Stop that. Do you hear me? I’m right where I want to be.”
“Jacee?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
