LIAM

The soft, consistent beeping of the machines was turning into a monotonous nightmare. It seemed that Azalea and Damien were in sync because their machines just beeped to the same rhythm over and over.

Lily and I were taking turns leaving the room but only about once a day. It was unspoken, but one of us always remained in the room. Nurses would come in and push food toward us, but neither of us were eating very much. I sat by Azalea’s beside, continually praying to the Moon Goddess to give her back to me.

Gavin was a pitiful moping mess in my head. He went from pained howling to overwhelming stress about Azalea and Azly to bitter silence on a constant loop. All I could feel was an icy fist clenched around my heart. If Azalea didn’t open her eyes soon, it was sure to shatter.

Missy was an angel, bringing Azly to see Azalea and me every day. Gavin wanted our pup, and I wanted her as well, but every time I held her, my body ached for Azalea even more. If any of our children were the spitting image of my mate, it was Azly. Missy had even picked such a perfect name for her.

After everything we had been through over the years, I had never felt this way when Azalea wasn’t conscious. Scared and worried, sure? But I have never felt this cold defeat that was endlessly clawing at my chest. The longer she slept, the further I sunk.

The same thought had been playing on repeat since we made it back to the pack, “What if she doesn’t wake up again?”

I sigh heavily for the millionth time in only a few short hours. My eyes wander over her soft, sleeping form for the hundredth time this hour. Azalea looks so calm and peaceful, like she hadn’t been kidnapped and given birth in a medical field tent outside a raging species battle.

While she was forever pale and small, her surgical scars were slowly healing. My uncle said that was a good sign; her body was functioning well. Damien had also healed of all his cuts and bruises except the bite mark; that still lingered. Theodore had done everything he could to remove the venom from Damien’s system, but I had not seen him since that night. It wasn’t safe for him to stay within the pack right now, not after everything that transpired at Warwick’s estate.

“Azalea, sweetheart, please wake up,” I whispered into my hands that held her limp one. She was cold, no matter how many blankets I put over her. I picked her small frame up from the bed most nights and sat her over me to sleep. What was beginning to scare me the most was the diminishing feeling of our bond through our touch. Every time I touched her, the indicative sparks of our bond felt weaker.

I laid my head on the bed next to her, closing my eyes and letting the vexing sound of the monitors fill my head.

“What if she doesn’t wake up again?”

“What if she doesn’t wake up again?”

“What if she doesn’t wake up again?”

I looked over at Lily, who was half laying over Damien. She wasn’t doing much better than I was. Damien had never been in this kind of danger, so the feeling was foreign to her. My guilt was only compounded knowing that he was lying in that bed because of me.

A stuttering of the machine struck my ears, jerking my attention to the monitor. Azalea’s heart rate fluttered. I watch again, holding my breath. It happened once more.

“Azalea…” I breathed. Movement across the room told me Lily heard it too. The machine stuttered once more with Azalea’s changing heartbeat.

“Baby, wake up,” I whispered.

“I’ll get someone,” Lily whispered before she dashed out of the room. I squeezed Azalea’s hand in mine, kissing her fingers lightly.

“Come on, sweetheart. Just open your eyes,” I pleaded. Her fingers twitched in my grasp. My heart was racing, watching for any other signs that she was coming back to me.

Her eyebrows scrunched a bit, the tiniest wrinkle appearing in between her eyes. “Azalea, baby, open your eyes,” I begged again.

Her whole body began to stir, and my heart raced faster. It felt like years since I saw those perfect green eyes; I needed her to open them.Belongs to - All rights reserved.

A weak m**n escaped her lips. I dropped her hand and cupped her face. “Azalea, sweetheart,” I tried again.

Her eyelids fluttered. “Liam…” her voice came out almost inaudibly.

“I’m right here, baby. Wake up; come back to me,” I chanted.

Finally, her eyes cracked open. She flinched slightly as the bright light reached her eyes for the first time in weeks. A torrent of relief crashed into me as her eyes connected to mine.

“Azalea.” Her name was like my lifeline, the only thing holding me to my sanity.

“Liam,” she whispered; her voice was rough and quiet. Wet heat washed down my face.

“Azalea,” I sobbed. My fingers came down over the sides of her face, watching as she reacted to my touch. I leaned forward and kissed her forehead, my tears falling onto her. “Azalea,” I repeated her name as the sun finally rose once more.

A hand rested on my shoulder. “Alright, nephew, let me take a look,” my uncle said softly. I looked up, realizing a nurse stood on the other side of the bed, holding a glass of water. I looked over my shoulder at my uncle, who was giving me a warm look.

I nodded my head and turned back to my mate. “I’m not leaving,” I promised. She nodded her head the slightest bit. I kissed her head once more before stepping back to let her be checked over. The nurse immediately swooped in to let Azalea drink from the cup’s straw while my uncle pulled the bed up more into a sitting position.