The palace doctor loomed over Kaelen with a syringe that looked more like a medieval torture device than medical equipment.
"This will hurt, Alpha King," he warned, his expression grave. "But it's necessary to fuse your broken ribs properly."
I sat beside Kaelen on our bed, my fingers intertwined with his as he stared down the needle with typical Alpha stubbornness.
"Just do it," Kaelen said through gritted teeth.
I winced as the doctor plunged the massive needle between Kaelen's ribs. My mate's hand crushed mine, his jaw clenched so tight I feared he might crack his teeth. Not a sound escaped him, but I felt his pain searing through our bond like white-hot fire.
"Four broken ribs," the doctor announced, withdrawing the needle. "The injection will accelerate healing, but you need to rest, Alpha King. No strenuous activity for at least forty-eight hours."
Kaelen nodded stiffly, his breathing shallow. "Is that all?"
