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“Happy, doctor?” Kody smacks the flusher and lumbers to the vanity.
“Nurse. And yes. Very happy. You gave me a scare.”
“No shit.” He glances at his swollen, stitched face in the mirror.
“It’ll heal.” I want to reach for him and tell him he’s still gorgeous.
But he’s not in the mood.
“Don’t care.” He glares at his reflection and hisses when his expression pulls the sutures.
“Let’s go, grumpy fuck.” Leo nudges him along.
“Stop sweet-talking me.” Kody swings an arm and sways.
The exertion costs him. By the time they move him back to the bed, he’s barely conscious.
“Sleep.” I lower my head, running a finger along the creases on his forehead.
“Told you to run.” He lifts a bandaged hand to brush the blood caked on my cheek.
“I’ll never leave you.”
The weight of that promise sinks into our bubble, drawing us closer together.
“The wolf?” he slurs.
“Dead.” I press a kiss to his lips. “I’ll tell you all about it after…”
I lean back.
He’s already out.
A low, rumbling growl sounds at my back.
I twist to find Leo watching me, arms folded and expression stony. The utter possessiveness in that glare is like being hit in the chest with a fist. It knocks the breath from me.
Holding that stare, I refuse to back down. “Stop that.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Here.” Wolf steps between us, waving a damp towel. “Time to take care of you now.”
I must look frightful with dried blood cracking in my hair and around my eyes.
“Thank you.” Grateful for the distraction, I follow Wolf to the other bed and let him wipe away the horrors of the night.
“You need a bath.” Leo sets his jaw.
“I’m not leaving Kody’s side. Not until I know the transfusion is working and infection isn’t setting in. The next forty-eight hours are critical.”
He gives a short nod and broods by the door until Wolf finishes cleaning my hair. Then Leo pulls me off the bed and guides me into the closet.
“What are you doing?” I lean against him, losing my balance. Draining at a rapid rate.
“You can barely keep your eyes open. Hold onto me.” He makes quick work of my clothes, stripping me without asking.
Wobbling, I don’t have the energy to object. So I do as he says and hold on, letting him lift my feet and arms until I’m dressed in clean, soft things.
Then he lifts me, carries me to Kody’s bed, and crawls beside him, settling me between them.
A sigh slips past my lips. Safe. Warm. Heaven. Except…
“Wolf?” I lift my head.
“Over here.” He reclines on the other bed. “When you get crushed between the mouth-breathers, join me.”
Crushed between massive walls of hot muscle? Crushed between men who would forfeit their lives to save mine? Yeah, crushed may not be such a bad place to be. I rather like it.
I like it a little too much.
52
Frankie
—
I wake with my nose buried in the smoky scent of vodka and berries. Snuggling in closer, I savor the warmth of that natural cologne, breathing it deep into my lungs.
The pillow beneath my cheek feels like satin over steel. Hard and hot but strangely comforting. I linger there, floating back into a hinterland of peace and safety.
Until my pillow vibrates with a deep, rumbling sound.
I snap my eyes open and peel my face off a very sculpted, very naked masculine chest. And stumble into the dark, hooded gaze of a very awake man.
“Kody.” I blink, letting my vision adjust to the unlit room.
“Hi.” His husky baritone rolls through me.
“What time is it?”
“Morning.”
“Really? I don’t remember passing out.”
“You didn’t stir. Not a single nightmare.”
“No?” I trace my fingers down the curve of his pectoral muscle under the guise of inspecting the lacerations there. “I distinctively remember you fighting off a direwolf.”
“Direwolves aren’t real.”
“Except that nightmare was as real as the air I breathe.” Glancing behind me, I find the mattress empty. Same with the bed Wolf slept in. “Where are your brothers?”
“They stepped out. How did you kill the wolf?”
“Your knife. I must’ve stabbed it fifty times.”
“I’m sorry.” He scowls. “I never should’ve let you—”
“Careful.” I touch the ridges of claw marks on his frowning cheeks. “Your stitches.”
“I’ll live.”
“That’s the plan. I repaired what I could, but let’s take it easy. No more heroic adventures for a while, okay?”
“Thank you for…everything.”
“It’s the least I could do. How are you feeling?”
“Sore.” He shifts, grunting. “Everywhere.”
“Did you sleep?”
“Off and on.” He pulls my leg over his hip, aligning the front of my body against his side. “I like you here.”
“Me, too.” My palm rests on the damp skin of his abdomen. I slide it along his torso, his shoulder, his neck. All damp. And feverish. “You’re burning up.”
Alarm shoots me into a sitting position as I search for the light.
“Shhhh.” He guides me back to his side. “I’m naturally hot-blooded.”
“No, this is—”
“Normal. My body temperature runs hot. Especially when a fiery little redhead is pressed against me all night.”
