Alpha King's Mate

28. Locked

The shattering of glass echoes in my mind. My head pounds, my heart races, my eyes close. My skin feels cold and clammy, my face has probably gone whitish-green.

But the sounds...

Nothing prepared me for the sounds. There was a CRASH, like a booming clap of thunder off somewhere in the distance. Then the sound of a propelling bullet, which I wouldn't have taken notice to at all, hadn't time been moving in slow motion. Glass shatters from behind me.

     I twist in pain and fall, colliding with the stone on my left side. My head hits the floor of the balcony as well, and my ears ring.

     I blink.

     My vision blurs, my heart slows its pace, I groggily try to lift my head and get out of danger's way, but I cannot.

     My right arm heavily drags itself across my torso to clutch my left arm, where I was hit.

    The floor is littered with shards of glass of all shapes and sizes. Blood pools below my left arm and splatters in other places, no doubt from my random movements among the glass.

     Suddenly everything sharpens and I lean off of my left arm to rest on my back. My vision returns to high definition, and my foggy mind clears.

     It is then that I realize I am bleeding way too much.

     I gasp for breath, needing it like someone has just punched me right in the gut and all the oxygen in my lungs has been pushed out. My whole body aches and I roll over to my right side.

     My wolf whimpers, weak from blood loss.

     Every little movement I make is met with more pain. It would be so much easier, so much more comfortable to just lie here, close my eyes and wait for Zac to come back from his Meeting with the Counsel. But that could be hours away, and from the looks of the blood, the wound is severe.

     I use my right arm to push myself to a hands and knees position, careful not to hoist myself too high, so it would be harder for a second bullet to hit me.

     Keeping my left arm pressed to my stomach, I place all of my weight onto my right arm, which pushes it deeper into the fragments of glass below. I suck in a breath and let out a small cry of pain but force myself to continue. I scrape my hand, knees and legs across hundreds of shards, and begin to cry from all of the pain as I lunge for my phone to my right and continue my way inside.

     As I finally reach the hardwood flooring of the inside I throw myself to my left, and come to a sitting position in front of Zac's dresser. My hand shakes as I scramble to press the small buttons which dial Zac's cellphone number.

     It rings as my mind begins to cloud again.

     Please pick up. Please dear god let him pick up.

      Through the phone I hear my own sobbing and shallow breathing echoing back at me. Suddenly someone answers.

     "Hello?"

     I let out a shaky breath. "Who is this? Where is the King?"

     "His Majesty is in the presence of the High Counsel. Who is calling, can take a message?" The man asks and I groan through my tears.

     "No, no, listen to me! This is the Queen, I am in the private wing of the palace and I have just been attacked. I need guards, a doctor, and I must speak to the King this instant!"

     "My God.." The man trails off and I hear muffled rummaging in the background. There is a mix of distant voices just before I hear Zac's voice.

"Liv? Olivia? What's happened?" He asks frantically and I start hyperventilating, clutching my bloodied arm while pressing the phone between my face and shoulder.

"I need help- I- I got shot-"

"What the hell do you mean you got shot?" He roars, I whimper in pain.

The call disconnects and I let out a deep breath, dropping the phone beside me. About a minute later the door swings open.

"Wait!" I shout as Zac is about to run in, but he doesn't stop. I expect him to be shot at as well, but no bullets are fired. He rushes to kneel beside me and takes my arm into his hands. I suck in a sharp breath and grimace. "Careful."

"Are you alright?" He asks me, his hands grasping tightly around my shoulder, as if I'm going to disappear. I laugh through the pain and he scowls.

"Besides getting shot, I'm peachy." I sigh and rest my head back against his dresser. He redacts his touch and quickly pulls his overcoat off before ripping his white, button up, dress shirt open and taking it off. "Wow. Okay."

He finally cracks a slight chuckle and takes two of the longest points of the shirt, rolling it from them. He then ties the shirt just below my shoulder tightly. "We need to stop the bleeding until Lou gets here."

"Why is Lou coming here?" I ask him, trying not to focus on the pain, yet digging my finger nails into my right hand.

"The palace is on lockdown, until we know where the source of the bullet came from nobody leaves a wing. It's safety protocol, but we can't get Angela here to treat you, so the next best thing is-"

Lou cuts her brother's words off with her entrance. "Dear God, Olivia!"

"You wouldn't happen to have any morphine on you, now would you?" I ask her, disguising my desperation as a joke, while watching her glide toward me.

How is it that even when she is nervous she looks more graceful than I could ever be in my life?

"Even if I did, your body would circulate it out too fast." She sighs and shoos Zac away from my arm. Taking his place, she kneels beside me and inspects my wound. "I do have some dew, though!"

"Dew?" I ask, never having heard do the thing before.

"Have you never needed it? It's a drug designed specifically for werewolves to treat extreme pain. The largest quantities of it are found in pills to treat symptoms of heat." She tells me as she opens her bag and pours the contents of a large brown bottle onto a pad of gauze.

     I groan from pain. "Hey, look, Lou, thanks for the lesson and all but I'm dying over here."

     Zac growls and I turn to look at him. "Don't say that, you're not dying."

     Awe.

     Suddenly my wound is stinging and I scream. "What the hell Lou?"

     She frowns. "I'm sorry Olivia, I have to clean it!"

     I whimper and breathe quickly in and out, shoving my right hand into Zac's hands. He squeezes them tightly and I cringe.

     What a great week this has been.