At her face.
Confusion crossed his features first.
Then irritation.
Then–
Recognition.
His gaze traced over her damp hair. The bruise on her cheek. The swelling softening the familiar lines of her face. The unnatural curve of her stomach.
His eyes lingered on the soft cupid’s bow of her lips.
Then dropped to the ring on her left hand.
Something in me snapped and I tore the band off and flung it across the room.
What it revealed was worse.
Serena’s mark on her shoulder looked almost like a birthmark now.
Logan’s on her finger was violent. Jagged. Deep. As if he hadn’t cared whether he bit her to the bone.
My stomach flipped.
“Airway,” the man in orange reminded sharply.
Right.
I adjusted her head. He sealed his mouth over hers again, forcing her chest to rise.
Vinny covered his mouth with one hand.
“Where are her glasses?” he asked, voice breaking. “She can’t see.”
“Boss–” I started.
“Where the fuck are her glasses?” he snapped at the man in green. “My omega can’t see without them.”
His eyes had gone red at the edges.
“They’re on the counter,” the man replied calmly. “I doubt they’ll help—”
“Fuck you.” Vinny crossed the room in three strides, grabbed the thin frames, and came back just as fast.
He crouched beside us and slid them carefully onto her face.
They sat crooked against damp skin. He straightened them gently, smoothing her hair.
“You scared me, Little Lamb,” he whispered, voice thick. “Come on. Wake up so we can take you home.”
His thumb brushed her cheek, avoiding the bruise.
“I’m sorry for yelling,” he murmured. “I won’t ever do it again.”
She didn’t move.
Pheromones. She needed his scent. Without thinking, I shifted her into his arms.
