his eyes. He hurt everywhere except where the soft, full lips touched his. Their first kiss since they met.
Ripley leaned back, stroking his thumb over Brendan’s lower lip. “I just had to know.”
“Know what?” Brendan whispered.
“That you were alive. I can’t do anything right now. You’re hurt, I’m hurt, but if I could just have something that little…yeah, I just needed to know.” Ripley glanced down at the bed.
Brendan's arms shook as they lifted to Ripley. They had a mind of their own, and his hand-and-eye coordination was for shit right then, but he wanted to assure Ripley. His hands touched Ripley's heated neck, moving onto the back of his head then pulling him down for another kiss. This one was just as gentle, just as soft, a gradual simmering burn that was the start of something special for the both of them. This was the beginning of their journey as one.
They stayed the night in the infirmary. It wasn’t planned, but Lachlan wanted to make sure Brendan and Ripley were okay before they left to heal.
Brendan glanced down at his body as he got ready to go back to his cell. There were so many injuries that he had no fucking clue how he had lived. He just remembered wanting to take everything out in his path, not even feeling any pain at all. Thank gods, he had already shifted, because even though they had to heal the old fashion way, nice and slow, shifter blood always helped speed it along.
Ripley stretched next to him, displaying scratches, bites and a deep gash in his tan side. His arm was wrapped in gauze. Ripley covered the wounds as he pulled a shirt over his body.
Then, Brendan walked over to him and smoothed the shirt down over the hard muscles.
Glancing up, Brendan saw Ripley staring down at him with soulful gray eyes. How much they had changed since he'd first locked onto that gaze. Sighing, Brendan wrapped his arms around Ripley.
“Everything’s going to be alright,” Ripley said as he made small circles on his back with his hands.
Brendan breathed into Ripley’s chest. “You think so?”
“We’ll work through it together one day at a time. That’s all we can do and make sure we help each other out.”
Brendan nodded before he pulled back. They opened the curtain to walk out, and Brendan gasped. So many! There were just so many people in the infirmary, all injured. Lacerations, deep bite wounds and apparently breaks from all the casts and enough bandaged wounds to see that they had narrowly escaped the battle with their lives.
Dalton was helping Lachlan out, changing bandages, and Brendan watched Dalton tend to the hurt any way he could.
Brendan saw Colin and Sloan sharing a bed. Sloan had stitches on his head and was wearing a sling while sitting next to Colin who didn’t look any worse for wear except for the dark circles under his eyes that attested to his lack of sleep from worrying about his mate.
Rayce was on the bed, snarling. “I’m fine. I need to get back to work.”
“You have a concussion, Rayce. You won’t be going back to work for quite some time,” an older doctor said as he checked a particularly nasty bite on Rayce’s arm.
Peyton sat in the corner in a chair, knees drawn tight to his chest. His head was bowed on his knees, and he rocked slightly.
Brendan walked over and hugged Peyton.
Peyton trembled in his arms.
“How are you?” Brendan asked, knowing Peyton had already seen too much in the last couple months. This was his second attack, and by Peyton’s haunted eyes, it had taken its toll on him.
“He won’t let me help him.” Peyton’s voice was so damn weak.
“Give him time. He’s not used to being the one to have to be taken care of,” Brendan soothed.
“But he won’t even…accept me.” Peyton sat back in the chair, drawing his knees up once again.
Brendan glanced over to see Rayce had his lips pursed while looking at Peyton, an obvious internal battle going on, but he voiced nothing, nothing at all. Knowing that
Ripley leaned back, stroking his thumb over Brendan’s lower lip. “I just had to know.”
“Know what?” Brendan whispered.
“That you were alive. I can’t do anything right now. You’re hurt, I’m hurt, but if I could just have something that little…yeah, I just needed to know.” Ripley glanced down at the bed.
Brendan's arms shook as they lifted to Ripley. They had a mind of their own, and his hand-and-eye coordination was for shit right then, but he wanted to assure Ripley. His hands touched Ripley's heated neck, moving onto the back of his head then pulling him down for another kiss. This one was just as gentle, just as soft, a gradual simmering burn that was the start of something special for the both of them. This was the beginning of their journey as one.
They stayed the night in the infirmary. It wasn’t planned, but Lachlan wanted to make sure Brendan and Ripley were okay before they left to heal.
Brendan glanced down at his body as he got ready to go back to his cell. There were so many injuries that he had no fucking clue how he had lived. He just remembered wanting to take everything out in his path, not even feeling any pain at all. Thank gods, he had already shifted, because even though they had to heal the old fashion way, nice and slow, shifter blood always helped speed it along.
Ripley stretched next to him, displaying scratches, bites and a deep gash in his tan side. His arm was wrapped in gauze. Ripley covered the wounds as he pulled a shirt over his body.
Then, Brendan walked over to him and smoothed the shirt down over the hard muscles.
Glancing up, Brendan saw Ripley staring down at him with soulful gray eyes. How much they had changed since he'd first locked onto that gaze. Sighing, Brendan wrapped his arms around Ripley.
“Everything’s going to be alright,” Ripley said as he made small circles on his back with his hands.
Brendan breathed into Ripley’s chest. “You think so?”
“We’ll work through it together one day at a time. That’s all we can do and make sure we help each other out.”
Brendan nodded before he pulled back. They opened the curtain to walk out, and Brendan gasped. So many! There were just so many people in the infirmary, all injured. Lacerations, deep bite wounds and apparently breaks from all the casts and enough bandaged wounds to see that they had narrowly escaped the battle with their lives.
Dalton was helping Lachlan out, changing bandages, and Brendan watched Dalton tend to the hurt any way he could.
Brendan saw Colin and Sloan sharing a bed. Sloan had stitches on his head and was wearing a sling while sitting next to Colin who didn’t look any worse for wear except for the dark circles under his eyes that attested to his lack of sleep from worrying about his mate.
Rayce was on the bed, snarling. “I’m fine. I need to get back to work.”
“You have a concussion, Rayce. You won’t be going back to work for quite some time,” an older doctor said as he checked a particularly nasty bite on Rayce’s arm.
Peyton sat in the corner in a chair, knees drawn tight to his chest. His head was bowed on his knees, and he rocked slightly.
Brendan walked over and hugged Peyton.
Peyton trembled in his arms.
“How are you?” Brendan asked, knowing Peyton had already seen too much in the last couple months. This was his second attack, and by Peyton’s haunted eyes, it had taken its toll on him.
“He won’t let me help him.” Peyton’s voice was so damn weak.
“Give him time. He’s not used to being the one to have to be taken care of,” Brendan soothed.
“But he won’t even…accept me.” Peyton sat back in the chair, drawing his knees up once again.
Brendan glanced over to see Rayce had his lips pursed while looking at Peyton, an obvious internal battle going on, but he voiced nothing, nothing at all. Knowing that
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