Xavier's POV
In the next hospital room, the first thing Beta Xavier Caldwell felt was weight. Not the kind that pressed against his chest from wounds or broken bones, but the heavy feeling of his own body refusing to rise.
His limbs were stiff, his breath shallow, his throat dry as sand.
For a moment, he thought he was still on the battlefield. After all, he couldn't remember whether they had defeated Alpha Ludwig of Abyssal Pack.
He could almost hear the clash of claws, the tearing roars, the cries of werewolves falling all around him. But then the sounds shifted.
Now, all he could hear was a steady beeping, the hiss of a machine, and the faint murmur of voices outside.
It was too still here. Too far from war.
His eyelids twitched, heavy as stone, before he managed to pry them open. Bright light immediately stabbed his eyes.
"Damn it!" he groaned roughly as he tried to move. Even his wolf seemed to stir beneath his skin and threatened to overtake him.
