Perry's POV
Phoebe received all the medical care she needed at the hospital. Her condition remained critical, and despite Lynn's best efforts, it wasn't nearly enough.
Reginald had managed to slip away, though his warriors lay dead. A massive hunting party was tracking him down now.
None of that mattered to me. I stayed by my mate's side, refusing to sleep. Marcela kept insisting it wasn't healthy, but I ignored her warnings. The healer was too terrified to push me further.
Phoebe had bitten through her tongue—the wound ran deep. She couldn't speak, which only deepened my despair.
Even without the injury, she wouldn't want to talk to me.
How long before I'd hear her voice again? Maybe never?
I shut my eyes, then gazed at the night sky as it lightened. Dawn was breaking. Another day meant Phoebe had been unconscious for three straight days.
"Wake up, please."
