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Was he praying?
Honestly, I didn’t know what I believed as far as religion went. But some people believed there was a God above us, or some kind of fate, or something. And I was dying, most-likely.
So what could it hurt to pray?
Closing my eyes, I sent up a prayer of my own that somehow, I’d manage to survive.
There was no answer, but then again, I didn’t expect one.
An extra-painful throb stabbed me in the temple, and I breathed in sharply, lifting my un-held hand to my head. It moved slower than it should’ve, but it did move.
Dax’s head shot upward, his blue eyes flooded with some emotions I couldn’t read. “You’re awake.”
“Eh,” I rasped.
Damn, I sounded terrible.
He handed me my glasses, and I set them in their place. “What’s the verdict?”
His messy hair and the dark circles under his eyes answered that question for me.
“Just give it to me straight, Dax,” I croaked.
“You’re still rejecting the wolf. We bought some time when we kissed, but not enough. Can you stop fighting her?”
“No. It’s not something I’m doing on purpose.” My eyes closed. “How long do I have?”
His silence answered that one.
Not long.
