I craned my neck to look at Liam.
Nothing, he repeated, gaze leveled on August.
I felt like a fly caught in a web belonging to two equally big and possessive spiders. But it wasn’t my life or my heart I feared for; it was theirs. I couldn’t split myself in half, and even though I loved them both, I loved them differently.
I set my untouched coffee down on my bedside table and wrapped my hand around the one August had fisted at his side, prying his fingers open until they relaxed and twined with mine.
“See you later, Liam.” I smiled at him, but all I got in return was a sharp nod.
He backed away.
As Ingrid trailed after him, I called out, “In case I don’t see you again, Ingrid, have a safe trip back, and say hi to your family from me.”
She looked over her shoulder at me, then at August, then at our hands. “I will,” she said, offering me a weak smile.
Once the door was closed, Sarah loosed a breath. “Well, that was a little awkward.”
“And this is why I advocate polygamy,” Lucas said brightly. “And orgies. Everyone gets what they want, or rather, whom.”
Sarah smacked his thigh.
“Ow. What was that for? I’m allowed my opinion,” he muttered. “It’s my constitutional right.”
“When you’re going to say stupid shit, use your inside voice,” Sarah said.
“Stupid shit? How was that stupid?”
“It was unhelpful,” she said, gaze pinging between August and me.
Greg blustered into the room then. “Got here as fast as I could.”
I’d never been so happy to see the pack doctor. One, because I was anxious to get my bandage off, and two, because I didn’t want to talk about our tangled love lives anymore. I sensed Lucas had been trying to lighten the atmosphere, but his quip had the adverse effect. August’s grip had become bruising, as though my former mate was afraid that if he let go, I would venture away.
I’d moved him the night of the duel. Perhaps if the link still connected us, August wouldn’t have felt so threatened, but now that it was gone . . .
“Glad to see you awake, kid.” Greg squirted some disinfectant into his palms and rubbed them as he approached my bedside.
I tried to smile, but a bolt of nervousness shot through me.
“So, I’m going to take a look under the bandage.”
Take a look underneath it? “Is there a chance it’s not coming off?”
As his fingers inched up to the gauze, he seemed to realize we weren’t alone. “You mind giving Ness and me some room?”
“Sure, doc,” Lucas said.
Sarah rose from the bed reluctantly. “I’ll be right outside.”
“Want August to stay, Ness?” Greg asked.
My heart started pounding double-time. “I-I . . .”
August’s motionless body finally came alive. “I’d like to stay.” He dipped his chin into his neck to peer down at me. “If that’s okay with you?”
Greg waited until I acquiesced before proceeding to remove the bandage. As the strips fell away, and cool air touched my newly exposed skin, I shivered.
August let go of my hand and skated his palm across my back to drive warmth into my chilled skin.
Greg gathered the fallen gauze and chucked it in the garbage. He lifted his fingers to my face again, I assumed to remove the last of the bandages, but he simply prodded my cheek.
“You’re not going to remove everything?” I finally asked.
His hand arced down slowly. “I did, Ness.”
He must not have, though, because something was still obstructing my sight. I raised my hand to do it myself. When my fingertips bumped against my lashes and the slick surface of my eye, I turned to marble.
The weight of my surprise made my numb fingers glide down a hardened ridge that tapered off into smooth skin.
Greg was saying something, but his words banged into my eardrums without penetrating. I flung the sheet off my legs and got out of bed. When the balls of my feet hit the cold linoleum, my head spun. Two sets of hands wrapped around my upper arms to steady me-Greg’s and August’s.
The tan-colored wall swam in and out of focus. I shrugged their hands away, then padded into the bathroom in my hospital gown.
Cold air snuck through the papery fabric, wrapping around my bare skin, bringing more goose bumps to the surface.
I flicked the switch on the wall, or thought I did, but my fingers whispered through air, missing their mark. My second attempt, though, was successful.
Light flooded the tiled space that had been scrubbed with so much antibacterial soap my nose twitched. I stepped in front of the mirror, wiped my right eye to clear it of the blur. As my vision sharpened on my reflection, a breath stumbled through my parted lips.
I raised my fingers to my face and traced the two centipede-like violet scars that started at my left temple and curved over my lid and cheek, arcing toward my ear. But the scars were hardly the most alarming thing about my face. No, what truly distressed me was the paleness of my blue iris and black pupil.
I swallowed back the lump rising in my throat. Crying over my appearance and loss of vision felt so silly considering everything.
I caught movement and turned to find August leaning against the door. I palmed the left side of my face to hide my disfigurement.
“Dimples . . .”The pity coating his tone had me bristling.
I sidestepped him and returned to Greg. “Will my eyesight come back?” I asked, my voice surprisingly firm.
Eyes crinkling with grief, he shook his head. “Your scarring, in time, will become fainter-Liam’s has already improved, but he’s Alpha so you can’t really compare your healing capacities-however, your eye won’t improve. The corneal abrasion was too deep and drops of Morgan’s blood came in contact with your aqueous humor.”
Humor . . . What a strange term for something that was decidedly not funny.
“Do you see anything at all?” he asked.
“No.”He nodded.
Heat glazed my cold spine. Instead of leaning into August, I took a step forward, bumping my shins into the gray base of my hospital bed.