Page 72 of Whispers and Warriors
“Oh no you don’t, tough guy. You’re patched up, but you’re in no shape to go anywhere. Your dominant arm is a bloody mess. You are staying right here.
Liam opened his mouth to argue, but Emma silenced him with a look. Slowly, he sank back down, resignation and reluctant acceptance warring on his face. Emma stroked his hair soothingly, her heart aching with love and worry in equal measure.
The moment was shattered by a particularly loud blast from above. Emma tensed, her breath catching in her throat. Somewhere in the midst of that chaos was Chris, leading his men with the same fierce determination he brought to everything.
TWENTY-SEVEN
William burstinto the cabin with so much speed it was as if needed to reassure himself no one had gotten in or out. Even as his entire body wanted to drop down to sleep the battle off, he couldn’t calm down. The metallic tang of blood and gunpowder still scorched his nostrils. His arm still pulsed and bled, but his eyes wildly searched the room, landing on Emma and Liam sitting in the back corner, with Ranger having jumped up at the door opening.
In two long strides he closed the distance between them and crushed her against his chest, burying his face in her chestnut curls. “Thank God,” he choked out, his desperate kiss conveying more than words ever could. Emma clung to him just as fiercely, her slender fingers digging into his back as she returned his fervor in equal stride.
The thrum of adrenaline still sang in William’s veins, but slowly, gradually, his racing pulse began to calm as he drank in her presence, whole and unharmed in his arms. She was his beacon in the chaos, the light forever drawing him back from the brink of darkness.
A soft whimper snapped him out of his Emma-centric haze. Liam. His best friend was leaning heavily against the wall, one arm wrapped around his midsection, glasses askew on his nose.
Reason whispered in William’s ear.
The others need her, too.
With more willpower than he’d ever claim to have, he released Emma, letting his hands skim down her arms before dropping away completely. “Go,” he murmured, tilting his head toward where Bash was slumped in a chair. “I’ve got Liam.”
Emma squeezed his hand, hazel eyes shimmering with unshed tears and overwhelming love before her lips twisted into a frown. “Your arm.”
“It’s nothing, the bleeding will stop soon enough.”
“Or I can stitch you up right now you pain in the ass, sit.” Alex hissed, not even going to Emma. “You keep a kiss for me, I’m fixing him first, can’t have him passing out on us.”
Emma stepped to the side, a gasp pulling past her lips as she no doubt took in the damage one of them endured.
William made his way to Liam’s side, sitting down beside him hoping for some small talk. “Talk to me, Brother. Where are you hurt?”
“Took a hit to the arm that I swore also went into my side,” Liam grunted, peeling his hand away to reveal a crimson-soaked shirt.
“That’s because two pieces found you, you moron,” Alex hissed.
Liam rolled his eyes at Alex. “Fucking piece of wood came out of nowhere. You?”
“Knife. Fucker went deep, but I made sure the handler went down.”
“Good deal,” Liam winced.
“Here we go,” Alex pricked William’s bicep. “Hold the bandage until I tell you to let go. No way to rinse somethingthis deep out so you be careful, you hear me. No fucking dirt anywhere near it, thankfully I know your Tetanus Shot is up to date.
“No fucking fair, you didn’t numb me.”
Alex clucked, “You passed out, dumbass.”
William smiled, gladder than ever at their good natured ribbing. It meant they were alive.
Alex grabbed his arm and William was thankful he barely even noticed the pressure of Alex’s grasp.
Chris cleared his throat, his authoritative presence instantly grounding the chaotic energy in the room. His sharp gaze swept over each of them, assessing, cataloging. “Wound check, now,” he barked, the order brooking no argument.
William pointed at his arm. “Arm’s a bit banged up, and I tweaked my knee pretty good. Nothing too serious. As I told Liam, the idiot who stabbed me got it worse.”
Chris nodded curtly, already moving on. “Alex?”
“Bullet grazed my cheek,” Alex reported, fingering the bleeding cut with a rakish grin. “And I twisted my ankle diving for cover. But you should see the other guys.”
