It seemed like time had not passed when Rafael awakened in the infirmary.
He rolled his eyes the moment he focused enough to recognize the white ceiling and the faint bite of antiseptic in the air. Of course here Again. He turned his head and found the physician peering down at him, expression unimpressed and far too familiar.
He was so thoroughly tired of this damned place. He'd spent more time here in the past few days than he had in the last few years combined, and that fact alone irritated him more than the pounding ache behind his eyes.
"You're awake, Alpha," the physician said.
Lia, head pack doctor, crossed her arms as she looked down at him, dark eyes sharp and assessing. Her tone was dry, unimpressed, as if his collapse had been a mild inconvenience rather than an alarming event.
Rafael immediately pushed himself upright, swinging his legs over the side of the bed as if he intended to stand.
"Don't," Lia snapped, planting a firm hand on his shoulder. "Take it easy."
