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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Pain.
It greeted him every time he woke. Gone was the hospital bed, replaced by the familiar timber and blankets of his own bed. He couldn’t remember being brought home. He had lost all sense of time.
There was nothing but pain and an unnerving need to move. That something was wrong.
Clenching his fist against the flaring agony of his body protesting any movement, he turned his head to the side, trying to see more of his darkened room.
Unable to bite back the groan of pain that escaped him, he blinked as the Doc sat in a chair near the bed. A syringe in hand.
“Fuck off,”
He didn’t want anymore painkillers; he needed to think, to focus despite the pain that screamed at him.
“You are not out of the woods yet, Hyde, your body needs to rest,”
“I said” his words were dry and raspy “fuck off”
The Doc frowned at him as he placed the syringe down amongst dozens of empty morphine bottles that littered his bedside table.
“Are you hungry?”
Hyde fixated on the scattered bottles and blood-soaked bandages, paying no attention to anything else. His mind was trying hard to catch up.
“How long?” Fuck, he was thirsty. Everything was a blur in his mind.
“Three days.” Standing to check on the bag of blood hanging by the bed, the doctor frowned down at him.
“You have almost died on us at least twice. Ive operated once and may have too again,”
Having been under Draven’s whip before, he had no doubt every lash stroke had been deliberate. Draven had meant to bring him this close to death.
Pulling his hands up under him, Hyde went to push himself off the bed.
His entire body convulsing in protest, searing pain stealing his breath. Placing his hand gently on his alpha’s shoulder, the doctor pushed him back down.
