Page 97 of Rogue Games

“Touch her and I’ll kill you where you stand.”

Jamie’s eyelids flutter, and her fingers dig into the ground as she moans in pain, but thankfully, she doesn’t attempt to move.

“Jamie, you’re okay. I’ve got you. Don’t move.” I press my lips to her forehead and bend down so I look her in the eye. “Just hang on. You’ve got to hang on.”

Maggie’s beside me, poised to take over the second I’m ready to remove my hands. “I need more space, Dean. You’re going to have to move out of the way.”

My wolf howls, not prepared to leave her, even for a second, and not trusting her welfare to anyone else. But we need help, or she’s going to bleed out before our eyes. Forcing back my fears, I lift my hands and step back, watching in terror at the amount of liquid that spurts from the cut in that split second without pressure.

I’m coated in it instantly, and I can’t breathe, panic gripping me as I edge around to Jamie’s back and hold her steady while Maggie works at trying to put a temporary stitch in the wound that will buy Jamie enough time for her wolf to heal it.

That’s the best we can do.

Her skin is pale, and her breathing shallow.

Maggie curses, her hands coated in slippery blood as she works to close the gaping wound as fast as she can. The bleeding looks to be slowing, but is it enough? She’s lost so much already.

“We have to move her now, Dean. She needs blood, and I can’t do it here.” Maggie gently coaxes me away as they lift her onto a stretcher.

I’m back by her side instantly, trying to ignore the massive puddle of blood under my feet, as we hurry toward the packhouse as fast as we can without jostling her.

“My blood. You’ll give her my blood,” I demand unreasonably, thumping my chest hard.

We’re mates. My blood and my presence will heal her. It has to.

Maya and I used to joke that there must be something flowing through our veins that kept us alive countless times.

I’m praying that whatever it is will be strong enough to keep my mate alive, too.

44

JAMIE

Murmuring voices and hushed whispers wake me from my sleep. Grumpy at being disturbed, I huff and yank the thin blanket covering my shoulders up under my chin. I’m spoiled after only a few days back living with a pack, because this material feels cold and stiff to the touch, not the luxurious cotton I’ve been getting used to.

Feeling chilly, I tuck my feet up underneath me and try to roll onto my side, only to find myself caught by something pulling at my hand. I force my gritty eyes apart and stare at my arm, not understanding the tube running from my vein, or the monitor pinching my finger.

Confused, I look around at the sterile white walls and the pale grey linoleum floor. I’ve seen this room before, but only from the hallway outside. It’s the medical clinic in the packhouse.

Worried voices carry through the slightly ajar door to my single bed. I can hear Wyatt out there, with Lynn and Maggie. A slow inhale tells me a lot of people have been through this room recently. Dean among them.

But his scent, it’s the strongest.

Attempting to twist around to check out the rest of the room is a mistake. Immediately, stabbing pains in my side and neck has me turning back to my original position, a pitiful yelp passing my lips.

“Jamie, try not to move.” Dean’s voice is soft, and my heart aches with longing just hearing it. When his fingers gently touch my arm, tingles dance across my skin, and I melt back into the mattress, my wolf immediately comforted by his presence.

He strokes a big hand down to my elbow to my wrist, before carefully lifting my hand and placing it in his. He moves it back to my side but doesn’t let go as he watches the numbers on the monitor intently.

“What happened?” I croak out, my throat dry and scratchy.

A flashback of claws slicing through flesh slams into me, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Fear claws at me, and my wolf growls, scared there’s still a threat to our safety. When I try to sit up, Dean frowns and stops me with two gentle hands on my shoulders.

“Stop moving, or I swear, I’ll strap you to this bed.” There’s no heat in his words, just a soft, worried look on his usually stern face. “It’s okay. Just stay still. You’re safe.”

I slump back against the pillows, too weak to put up a fight. My limbs are heavy, and even if I wanted to get up out of sheer defiance, I don’t think I could.

“You dove in front of an angry wolf to save one of my pack, that’s what happened.”

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