Page 107 of Silver Elite

Lyddie rushes over, horrified. “Are you okay?”

I grit my teeth against the pain. “I think I broke my wrist,” I manage to choke out.

Dizziness fogs my brain as I struggle to get to my feet. I breathe deep, glancing down at my hand. The obscene angle at which it dangles from the wrist makes me woozy again, and now I’m seeing stars.

Fucking white coyotes.

“Take her to Medical,” Ford barks at Hadley while I try not to pass out.

Chapter 24

I sit on the uncomfortable infirmary bed, my broken wrist cradled against my chest. As far as chewing off limbs go, this wasn’t so bad. The pain has dulled to a mere throb. It hurts, but not as much as before.

That could also be due to the fentaphine injection.

But still.

The door swings open. I look up, expecting the female doctor who took my X-rays.

It’s Cross. He strides in, wearing his navy-blue uniform, a deep frown creasing his brow.

“Dr. Harumi says it’s fractured in multiple places,” I say helpfully. “One of the carpal bones is shattered completely.”

He nods. “I heard.”

“She’s recommending surgery. And a cast. Eight weeks.”

“Look at you, so educated about medical treatments.” He approaches the bed. “Why didn’t you tap out?”

“Couldn’t. My arms were pinned.”

“A verbal tap would’ve sufficed.”

“She wasn’t going to let me.”

He nods again.

I don’t like his lack of expression.

“Cross.” I cringe at the pleading note in my voice.

A brow rises.

“I can’t train like this.”

“No,” he agrees as he heads back to the door. “You can’t.”

His words are not at all encouraging. He wouldn’t surrender this easily.

I’m not wrong.

I sit there for another two hours before someone returns. A man in his late twenties or early thirties with close-cropped hair and a lanky frame.

He’s Modified.

I instantly clock that fact, as his short sleeves provide a clear view of his forearms and wrists. His right wrist bears the black band. No red to be seen.

I try to mask my distaste. A loyalist.

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