LERRIN
He'd collapsed on the blanket when they took him back to the prison tree, the pain descending in waves that made him breathe too quickly, then not want to breathe at all.
Many of his cuts and bruises were healing, fading, but the joints that had been strained, the injuries to his stomach and back, and one spot on his head… as his heart pushed the blood through his veins, those place lit up as if they were being injured again.
When the door opened, his heart raced—which made him groan. Had the wolves returned? But instead the gust of wind from the door brought the sweet, sweet smell of his mate—like darkberries and wet grass—and he groaned again, this time in relief.
He was able to roll to his back, though his body protested every hard-won inch. Suhle raced across the floor towards him, sliding to her knees at his side.
"Lerrin! I'm so sorry! I never thought I would be so long—"
