The hot satisfaction at having brought down the enemy paled before the panicked realization that Derrick couldn’t move. Not a single damned muscle.

The cold reality sent his wolf into hiding, pulling back from the dead weight of his body and leaving only human flesh. Flesh that felt nothing but the tips of her fingers on his cheeks as she cradled his head.

“Derrick. Oh God, why did you do that?” She hugged his head, and if the moment weren’t so dire, he might have enjoyed being buried against her plush tits. But all he could think was, This is the last time. The last time he’d smell her or feel her touch because he’d fucked up majorly in skipping the surgery and now paid the price.

Since he didn’t expect he’d get another chance, he whispered, “I love you,” which only caused her to rock and hug tighter.

In a voice thick with tears, she retorted, “This better not be one of those goodbye speeches. You’re going to be fine. We’ll get you in for that surgery, and everything will be okay. It has to be.”

As her voice broke, he understood his selfishness in allowing himself to care for her because she, in turn, cared for him. She was right about me hurting her. He was about to leave her like her father had. He would die, and she would blame herself.

Who says I have to die? An inner voice spoke out against his pessimism. It wanted to know why he wanted to give up. He was strong. Hadn’t he proven how strong? His shifter blood meant he healed so much better than a human. Add to that he now wanted to live, live with a vengeance so he could be with this woman.

“No goodbyes. I’ll be okay. I do, after all, come from strong stock.”

She laughed through her tears. “Yes, you do.”

Strong, though, didn’t mean he didn’t make a plea. “Promise me you’ll be there when I wake up.”

“I promise to be the first person you see when you wake up.”

He held tight to those words. He needed to lest the panic claw him down into a dark abyss.

The following hour was a whirlwind of lights and sound as an ambulance arrived to take him to the hospital where his doctor met them. Through it all, Janine remained by his side, a hand cupping his cheek, the only spot he could feel.

The greenness of her gaze was the last thing he saw before his lids fluttered shut, victim to the drugs being pumped into his body.

It seemed as if he only blinked, a scant second of time passing, before he opened them again, his mouth thick and his eyes gritty. In a sense, he felt as if he’d not slept at all, and yet he must have since he could tell by the white tiled ceiling he wasn’t in the operating theatre any longer.

Inhaling through his nose didn’t help dissipate the astringent scent of cleaners and the myriad other smells that permeated hospitals. With his sinuses failing him, he couldn’t tell if he was alone.

“Red?” Her name whispered from his lips, a rusty sound that he feared got lost amidst the various beeps and whooshes of the machines on either side of him.

Yet, she must have hovered close by because he did one slow blink, and the next time he opened his eyes, Janine stood there. Her gorgeous eyes bored into his, and he could hear the concern in her voice as she said, “You made it.” A relieved smile stretched her lips. “How are you feeling?”

“Dopey, and I don’t mean the dwarf kind.” He grimaced. “Hate drugs.” Why anyone would want to dull their senses he could never grasp.

“It should wear off pretty quick. What about the, um”—she paused—“rest of you? How does it feel?”

Shit. The query reminded him why he was groggy. The operation. The last-ditch effort to make sure he didn’t croak or turn in to a mannequin head, good only for apprentice barbers to do a shave on.

Did the operation succeed? Had he beat the odds?

For a moment, he found himself too afraid to try. Too terrified to attempt a twitch of his finger in case his greatest nightmare came true.

Don’t be a fucking pussy. Leave that to his brother-in-law Javier and his extended family of big cats. Derrick was made of sturdier stuff—and an impatient family. Apparently, Janine didn’t stand sentinel in his room alone.

“Stop screwing around and wiggle something already,” Naomi snapped.

“Don’t talk like that to your brother,” his mother chided.

“But she’s right,” interjected Mitchell. “He is drawing things out.”

“Attention whore,” coughed Stu.

Fuck, had they crammed the entire family in his room? He craned his head—which worked, yay—and noted, yes, indeed, the room was packed, an avid audience for the hand that he lifted and projected into a middle finger salute.

A collective sigh went through the room, and he felt like sighing himself. At least he’d gotten the top half of his body working again, and he knew now that there were worse things than being paralyzed from the waist down.

But was the rest of him still broken? The surgery would have removed the metal lodged against his spine. The question they all wondered was, had his body managed to repair the damage?

Even if it cost him his mancard, he couldn’t help but admit that he was too scared to find out.

His family didn’t have the same trepidation. Chris snorted. “Are you going to lie there all day, or are you going to do something?”

“How do you know I’m not trying?” he snapped back.

Janine wrapped her fingers around his. “Maybe we should give Derrick some space. Sometimes, this kind of nerve damage takes time to heal itself.”

Patience never was a Grayson strong suit.

“I say we see if he’s still ticklish.” Kendrick cracked his fingers as he moved into place at the foot of his bed.

The blanket was whipped off his lower legs, and the cooler air of the room brushed Derrick’s skin. My skin. I felt it!

Before he could absorb that fact, his brother ran a finger down the sole of his foot, a very ticklish foot. A foot they were all watching.

So Derrick kicked Kendrick—in the face. Not a hard kick, his legs were too weak from disuse for that, but still a kick.

His brother’s head snapped back, and not for the first time in his family, violence was met with cheers.

Derrick smiled. Then laughed. “Fuck me, it works.” Perhaps, not as great as before, he noted as he did his best to wiggle his ten toes, his left side barely twitching, but dammit, he had some movement. He drew his hand out of Janine’s and couldn’t help a grope under his covers.

His brothers laughed, and his sister uttered an emphatic “Gross,” but he didn’t care how indiscreet his actions because he had to know if his dick had feeling too. He gave it a good tug, and his cock gave him a twitch.

Good news not just for him, but also for the woman he’d claimed as mate. A mate he no longer sensed.

He craned his head to the side, only to see the door to his room swing shut as Janine left.

She left me.

And no matter how long he waited, she didn’t come back, the note she left the only goodbye.

Dear Derrick,

I kept my promise and stayed until you woke. I am so happy that you’ve gotten some sensation back in your lower body. The recovery will be hard, but I know you can persevere. Unfortunately, you need to do it without me at your side. While a part of me wants to be selfish and believe you when you say I’m your mate, I can’t help but wonder if you mistook gratitude for affection. I’m giving you the chance to find out.

Heal yourself, Derrick. Heal your mind. Heal your body. Find out what you really need in life to make you happy.

I wish you nothing but the best.

Janine Red

Stupid, stubborn woman. She still thought he didn’t truly want her. That she was just a convenient female body.

He’d show her how wrong she was. I will get better, Red, and when I do, I’m freakn’ coming for you.