Ever.
So strong.
So steady.
So confident in himself and everything he does.
But not now…
What did he say?
Doctor?
“What—” I only manage to get out that single word before the dryness in my throat prevents me from speaking anymore, and I cough again. A sharp stab in my side doubles me slightly, and I press my hand against it, groaning at the discomfort every little movement creates.
“Can someone get her some water?”
People shuffling.
Footsteps approaching… “Is she allowed to have it?”
Liam…
Liam’s here, too.
That’s good.
He always calms things down, especially when Killian is out of sorts.
And it sounds like he is right now.
I try to settle down into the bed that doesn’t feel quite right.
Not our bed.
Ours is soft and comfortable and smells like Killian—like the clean, crisp mountain air, leather, and freshly cut wood. This smells…sterile. Like chemicals. And the sheets are scratchy on my aching skin.
Definitely uncomfortable.
Something else brushes against my forehead.
Not his hand.
His lips, maybe?
Soft and warm.
Loving.
I groan and try to shift closer to him on the bed. My body screams in protest, a piercing pain in my ribs making me wince again.
“Here.”
Liam again.
He always takes care of everyone…
Killian’s fingers tip my head up, and something presses to my lips. “Water. Take a sip.”
