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Chapter Thirty-Six
“Kasha, will you just stay still?” Beckett growled, pushing me back into the infirmary bed.
Of course, that didn’t stop me from shooting myself back upright, trying to swing my legs onto the ground. “I told you, I’m fine!”
“You have a gaping hole in your side.” He pushed on the wound to keep the bleeding contained.
I inhaled sharply. “It’ll heal.”
“I need to disinfect it, there’s dirt and God-knows-what-else from that alley.” He shook his head slightly to get a piece of wayward white-blond hair out of his face. “Then you need to drink more blood to help slow the bleeding and close it a bit before I can stitch it up to help it heal faster.”
“Beckett, that’s not important right now!” I tried to wiggle free of his determined grip. “I need to go to the investigation board and look into my theory. I swear, I have a breakthrough.”
“And you will still have the breakthrough in an hour.” He loomed over me, his dark eyes forcing me to still. “Even if this wound can’t kill you, it can still get an infection. If it gets an infection, then it won’t stop bleeding, or heal up, and then you’ll be forced to stay in this bed even longer, which means you won’t be allowed to prove your theory outside of this Compound. So, either hurt yourself more because you have no patience, or sit still!”
His firm voice chilled me to the bone. I flopped my head against the pillow with a grunt of surrender.
“Wow, youcanlisten.” He sat in his chair next to me, pushing the blood-soaked fabric of my shirt up to just below my breasts. He pulled on a pair of gloves, then picked up a vile of clear liquid and a handful of clean linen. “You know the drill, stay as still as possible while I clean.”
“Yes, sir,” I grumbled, crossing my arms behind my head to keep them out of the way.
The first burning sizzle of pain engulfed my stomach as he poured some of the disinfectant onto it, my blood bubbling for a moment before calming down, bits of dirt and gravel floating to the surface. Beckett took his time, gently pulling the rocks out with tweezers, wiping away the clouded blood and repeating the process.
Minutes passed, my mind focused on keeping every inch of my body still, although it didn’t stop a few grunts of pain from escaping my lips or my legs from squirming. Eventually, rushing, heavy footsteps echoed from the floor below us, signaling that someone else had entered the building. I let out a sigh; in a few moments, there would be two more people here to try and coddle me.
“Three, two, one…” I mumbled just as the doors to the triage room burst open.
“Ollie called and said you’d been stabbed!” Nolan rushed in, eyes wild, flashing gold.
“I’m fine!” I propped myself up on my elbow, staring at Emric and Nolan standing at the foot of my bed. “It’s not as bad as it looks, I barely feel it.”
“You have a hole in your side!” Emric pointed to where Beckett’s hands wiped away the last of the dirty blood.
My shoulders sagged. “I’m really sick of everyone pointing out the obvious.”
“What happened?” Nolan’s hands curled around the metal footboard, turning his knuckles white. “Who did this to you?”
“That’s not important right now,” I said. “I need…”
“She was attacked in the alley behind theBlood Moon.” Beckett didn’t even look up as he threw a few soiled cloths into a bin by my bedside. “Perfect timing, Emric, she needs fresh blood.”
“Here, Kasha.” Emric walked right over to me, rolling up the sleeve of his purple button-up, baring his wrist to me.
I knocked it away. “I don’t want blood right now! I need to tell you about my new theory—”
“Drink, Kasha.” Beckett shoved Emric’s wrist back in my face, my body tingling at the smell of it. It was a natural reaction after injury, and it was only exacerbated by the sweet, rich scent of my Consort’s blood right under my nose, the thump of his pulse echoing in my ears.
My fingers curled into the bedsheets. “Nolan, please, I think this is a lead for Elliot. We need to contact the other Factions again—”
“You need to heal yourself first,” Nolan interrupted, his jaw tense.
I gaped at him. “But this is time-sensitive—”
“Not as sensitive as your health.” Nolan walked around the bed to stand next to Emric. “I refuse to listen to this theory until Beckett says it’s okay. So, either drink and move the process along, or keep yelling at us, but we won’t listen.”
“Fine.” These three could probably kill me quicker than the wound, if I could die that way. I stared at Emric’s wrist. “I…um…need you to…” I struggled to say the words, and all three of them stiffened.
I needed him to cut himself, because without access to my wolf, I couldn’t transform my teeth sharp enough to break the barrier between his sweet blood and my lips. Emric’s eyes softened before he brought his wrist to his lips, biting down quickly and returning the wrist to me, a trickle of blood sliding down his skin.
