Moon, Bitten

Chapter Thirty

            Adeline swept past him, smelling strongly of those infamous herbs as she knelt by the couch to better examine the wounds. "She has lost a lot of blood."

            Ronan stiffened, paling. "You say that as though nothing can be done."

            The older woman peered up at him with those timeless eyes, "Her wounds are grave, Ronan."

            His hands fisted at his sides, his jaw going taut as he fixed her with a calculating glare. "Then you have a lot of work ahead of you, old woman."

            She paused a moment and then gave a curt nod before opening her satchel ad pulling from it, many herbs and a thing of salve. "Did the creature force her to drink its blood?" He froze in his regained pacing, turning murderous. "No, it was rogue. The creature was far too driven by its thirst to consider turning her."

            "Nonetheless, I must ask to be sure."

            He heaved another sigh, running a bloody, callused hand through his hair once more as his eyes fixed worriedly on Kate.

            She looked like death, worse yet, appeared quite on the verge of it. And despite his attempts to snatch her from that perilous edge, he knew there wasn't anything that could be done but to leave her in the healer's hands.

            He couldn't lose her, not when he'd just found her. The very thought of it was unfathomable.

            "Perhaps you should clean yourself up and get some clothes?" Adeline suggested, not turning her bowed head from her work as she pondered over the grim task ahead of her.

            "I will not leave her." he muttered fiercely.

            Adeline turned to gaze at him sternly, "She will not be in her right mind when she comes to, we must assuage her, not alarm her, and the amount of blood covering your nudity may very well do the latter. Besides, your pacing distracts me. Now go."

            "I will return shortly." He growled, reluctant to move as he cast another longing, fearful glance at Kate. "If she dies —"

            "Your threats make no difference, alpha. Leave me to my work."

            Ronan headed to his loft that vision of Kate ensnared in the vampire's skeletal grasp as it tore into her throat, blood running like rivulets down the front of her uniform, replayed like a broken record on his mind.

            His wolf had responded instinctively, erupting viciously into a fleeting breaking of bone and tearing of flesh, and once in his fur, charged the undead with his incentive fastened helplessly between them.