Page 200 of Harley & Her Ferals

Harbinger is swathed in bandages, as well as smothered in River’s special bruise cream.

River may have gone overboard with the bandages and ointment.

Harbinger’s eyes are closed.

He’s not moving.

He’s too still.Too cold.

I drag the blankets more firmly around Harbinger’s bruised shoulders. It makes me feel better to have something to do.

It’s the early hours of Sunday morning. Every member of the pack are exhausted after the adrenaline and fear of the Championship Special.

I’ve won my pack.But what if the cost was Harbinger?

Laurent paces back and forth at the end of the bed, stinking of distressed Omega: burned chocolate.

Laurent’s hair is sticking out at all angles from where he’s run his hand through it.

He hasn’t sat down from the moment that he helped to carry Harbinger back to our bedroom.

Feral sprawls on the other side of the bed to me, next to Harbinger. He rests his strong fingers over the fresh bond bite on Harbinger’s neck. He teases across it possessively like he’s unable to stop touching the other Alpha.

Feral’s anxiety for Harbinger is as obvious in his gaze as it meets mine, as it is throbbing through the bond.

We both need Harbinger alive and playful with banter,right fucking now.

I whine, nuzzling Harbinger’s neck, taking a deep sniff of his smooth vanilla bourbon scent.

I can still sense Harbinger through the bond, but the connection feels dulled, as if Harbinger is lost at the bottom of a deep pond.

How can I pull him free?

Save him?

I raise my agonized gaze to River.

River is fixing a bandage over Feral’s shoulder, which was slashed by the Knot King with a bottle. “What isn’t wrong with him, bella? Without scans or the right medical equipment, I can only give you my best guesses. But as a medic, I can say that he likely has three broken ribs, a fractured wrist, sprained shoulder, and more bruises than I’ve seen on a patient. And that’s saying something.”

“But why isn’t he waking up?” I demand.

“My f-f-ault.” Guiltily, Feral lowers his head to lick over the bond bite. “I hit his head too hard.”

Feral doesn’t know his own strength, when he’s fighting.

But this wasn’t his fault.

I saw how hard he worked to defeat Harbinger, while injuring him as little as he could get away with.

Yet head injuries are always a risk.

“It isn’t,” I reply. “You fought like you agreed to.”

“Also, mio re, I think that he’s only unconscious now because of the feral bond bite on top of the concussion.” River finishes taping the bandage on Feral’s shoulder. “There, done. Don’t feel bad. You saved his life by claiming him. You savedallof us. And the worst of Harbinger’s injuries were done to him before the fight even started. I don’t know how he was standing, let alone went on to beat Hit Man.”

I stiffen. “Vinnie…?”

Feral growls. “V-vinnie is dead. I’ll kill him.”

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