Page 32 of The Butcher

Jesus.

I knew it was bad based on what I found when I unwrapped that tarp but seeing her in the firelight, even if it is just her face, it’s amazing that she survived injuries like those, and in the bitter cold at that.

“You did good, Butch,” Nan says as she comes to stand next to me, both of us staring at the slow rise and fall of the female’s chest.

“Yeah?”

She nods. “Too much longer and she wouldn’t have made it.”

I’m fucking amazed that she did. “What’s the damage?”

Nan sighs, long and exhausted. “Shockingly, not many broken bones; mainly a few of her ribs. Lots of bumps and bruises, superficial lacerations. The big ones are the stab wounds.”

“Lot of those, too?”

“Three, and they all missed major organs. It’s bizarre.”

I frown and glance at my grandmother before I find myself taking a step toward the woman in the bed. “How so? Aside from the obvious.” Like finding her in a ravine.

Nan shakes her head, something I only see out of my peripherals as I move along the foot of the bed. “It’s almost like whoever hurt her, intentionally missed anything fatal, and they were relying on the beating and elements to take care of her.”

That is fucking bizarre.

Bizarre and goddamn cruel.

“I stitched up what I could, and used the herbal salve on any wounds that didn’t need them. Despite how it looks, the hypothermia made a difference in the swelling, and it slowed down the possibility of her bleeding out.”

La-Dee-fucking-dah.

Hypothermia for the win.

Rolling my eyes at everything about how I’m feeling right now, I catch myself as I nearly sit on the edge of the bed. “Is there permanent damage from that? The hypothermia?”

“Only time will tell,” my grandmother says solemnly before pointing toward the IV stand across the room. “I’m rewarming her blood the best I can, using the hot packs and blankets to bring her body temperature up. Nash is out with your father getting something from the clinic for me so I can hopefully start to warm her airway and regulate her breathing.” She smiles at me as she takes my hand, tugging me down into the chair next to the bed. “Your omega wants to live, Butchy. She’s not going without a fight, and I have every intention of helping her cheat.”

I chuckle at that, relaxing a bit as I settle into the wingback. “Yeah, I can’t argue with that. I thought the same…” Her words hitting me a few seconds too late, my back goes ramrod straight as my head swings in Nan’s direction. “Mywhat?”

“Hush your mouth,” she hisses as she smacks the back of my head. “That girl needs peace and quiet so she can rest.”

“What the hell did you call her?” I whisper, rubbing my dome and bracing for Nan to repeat herself.

There is no fucking way I heard her right.

“Your omega, boy. Did I stutter?”

“No, but?—“

“Then you heard right the first time and wanted to test my patience by asking for a second.” She scowls at me, a look that still makes me quake in my boots, even after thirty-eight fucking years of seeing it. “This poor woman is an omega, though, I’m not really surprised you didn’t notice. Dead bodies and frigid temperatures masked her scent pretty well. Now that she’s thawing…” Nan raises a brow in my direction. “I figured you’d smell it when you walked in.”

“Not so much.” I blink wide eyes as I look down at the female, fighting the urge to inhale her scent the way I suddenly wantto. “How do you know she’s an… we haven’t… an omega? In Obsidian Falls?”

Nan smacks me again as I lean closer to the bed. “Don’t be an idiot, Bramley Ambrose.”

I scowl up at her and open my mouth but she cuts me off.

“Am I an alpha?”

“Yes, but?—“

---