Her brave wolf gave it everything he had, right until the compound came into view far below. Any minute, Ryon would be in good hands.
Daria gazed down at him, and froze. Underneath her palm, his chest had gone completely still. No rattle, no movement at all. He wasn’t fighting any longer, wasn’t breathing. Horror washed over her.
“Oh, baby,
“Come on, buddy, Nick’s never wrong. Don’t do this,” Jax begged. He looked at Micah, his face white. “Get his head. I’ll do the compressions.”
They worked together, each passing minute an eternity, carrying a man they all loved beyond reach. Their frantic efforts met with failure, and by the time Aric put the chopper down, it seemed hopeless.
Ryon was gone.
As long as she lived, the sight of Mac and the others rushing away with his lifeless body would remain burned in her memory. Hardly aware of her actions, she stumbled after them, a zombie. A moan built in her chest, and escaped in a painful wheeze.
Halting in her tracks, she clapped her hands over her ears. “Nooo.”
Suddenly, Nick was there. His strong arms were pulling her backward, enfolding her. She buried her face in his chest and let the black wave take her. How long they clung to each other, sharing their terror of the news that she was certain would come, and the stark anguish, she couldn’t have said.
Finally, Nick stepped back and raked a hand through his dark hair. “You love Ryon, and he’s a good friend. One of my best men. Remember, I said he’d have a battle, but that battle is
The simple gesture touched her. “Absolutely,” she whispered, and put her hand in his.
Together, they walked inside.
Under the watchful eye of Ryon’s many friends, Daria paced the small waiting room. Prayed harder than she ever had in her life. She couldn’t stop trembling.
The doctors had resuscitated him, but only after the promised battle. And they were saying damned little about his chances, despite what Nick had said.
Complications from the creature’s bite and the gunshot wound in his leg were the ultimate concern. The bacterial infection had spread through his bloodstream, ravaging his internal organs. He’d developed pneumonia, and his fever had climbed to a frightening one hundred and eight degrees.
Anyone but a shifter would’ve been dead.
They were pumping him with massive doses of antibiotics, along with painkillers. After several hours with no change, Nick left to make a few phone calls. One of which included notifying General Jarrod Grant of August’s claims. Daria had pulled Nick into a room and told him in private every single hateful word August had gleefully related to them. Nick’s blue gaze had darkened with every word.
“I knew absolutely nothing about this,” he had said in a low, dangerous voice. “But I will get to the bottom of it, take out August and everyone invoved in this horror, if it takes the rest of my life.”
And she believed him. She didn’t envy Nick and the general the unpleasant task of starting that investigation. Nick returned shortly, taking a seat across from the group.
Jax eyed him. “What’s up?”
“When Ryon’s out of danger, I’m calling a meeting and I’ll tell all of you at the same time.” He exchanged a knowing look with Daria that the others didn’t miss. But they didn’t push.
Daria rubbed her arms and shivered as Mac appeared, her expression kind. Daria’s stomach dropped to her toes.
“Ryon can have visitors now. One at a time, and keep it brief.”
Daria lurched to her feet. “Please, how is he?”
“Hanging in there,” she said with a gentle smile. “That man has the willpower of an ox.”
Jax nodded at her. “You go first, honey. We’ll wait.”
“Thanks.” She studied each of them, taking at least some comfort in the way they were rallying around her. In a short time, these wonderful men had become very important to her. She could see why Ryon was close to them.
Daria turned and made the walk down the corridor, the longest of her life.
And tried desperately to convince herself that, if the worst happened in spite of Nick’s prediction, she would be strong enough to say good-bye.
He was suffocating. Drowning in an ocean of pain. He tried letting himself sink and fall forever into the darkness just to escape it. But each time, they tormented him, pulling him to hover just below the surface. To stare into the soothing peace of death on one side, the beautiful light of life on the other, allowing him to reach neither.
“I want my mate,” he told them, repeatedly. Or dreamed he did. Perhaps they heard, because each time he whispered the word, something strange and pleasant swirled through him, chasing away the agony if only for a while.
He clung to that lifeline, the word and the warm feeling after. It was all he had to hold on to. All that mattered.
Until he heard her voice.
She told him to hang on, that she loved him. Would always love him. She said so many things, but all he grasped was
“Daria?”
“Hush, baby. You’re very sick, but you’re going to get better. Just rest and get stronger. I love you so much.”
“Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t,” she whispered. “Nobody can make me, staying right here. Sleep.”
Ryon drifted, relishing Daria’s cool fingers raking his hair, messaging his scalp. Stroking his face and lips. When the pain became almost too much and his soul was tempted to slip from its exhausted shell, he called to her. A soft touch, the quiet strength of her presence became his reason to cling to this earth.
Slowly, however, the fog began to part. His thoughts became more lucid, awareness of his surroundings sharper. His eyelids still refused to budge and his limbs were encased in cement, but he sensed that Daria did leave for short periods of time. He understood.
She never stayed away for long. She was steadfast, urging him to get well.
For his mate, anything.
“Hey, you.”
For a full minute, Ryon didn’t comprehend that he’d awakened and opened his eyes. The fog parted gradually as he rose to the surface. Gentle light filtered through the filmy haze covering his vision. By slow degrees, the haze dissipated, and he found himself staring into a pair of huge brown eyes.
“Baby,” he rasped.
Eyes that immediately filled with tears. Happy ones, he guessed, from the way she beamed down at him. Her smile crinkled her nose, and she grasped one of his hands tightly.
“I thought I’d never hear you call me that again,” she half-sobbed, choking on the last word. “You shaved a couple of decades off my life, mate.”
“That close, huh?”
She leaned over and brought his hand to her face, rubbing it against her cheek. “You weren’t breathing when they brought you in. We thought you were gone.” She gave a watery laugh. “Except for Nick, of course. He swore you’d make it. Guess we should learn to trust him.”
“Guess so.” Jesus, his head was muzzy and he hurt all over. Ryon attempted a smile, but his face wouldn’t cooperate. “How long have I been out of it?”
“Four long days. Everyone’s been visiting, and taking bets on who’d end up in here next. Meanwhile, Nick has been on the phone nonstop with General Grant.”
