He’d just have to see if he’d live through what Cyn would do to him when she found out how far he’d gone. She wouldn’t be too mad, right?

“You keep telling yourself that.”

From somewhere far away he could hear the sounds of someone pleading with him to stop, but that was the last thing he planned to do. He was almost done. Her shoulder was almost completely repaired. All that was left to do was to repair the skin, make sure that not a single scar was left behind.

The only mark that should mar her skin was the mating one he’d given her.

“Jules.”

Cyn’s bleeding had become sluggish, almost nonexistent. No internal bleeding remained. Chloe withdrew with a quick, psychic hug, leaving him to his weariness and the last of Cyn’s scrapes and bruises.

“Knock it off, Super Bear. I think I can put a Band-Aid on the rest of it.”

Part of him recognized that voice, but he couldn’t respond to it. It had gone dark where he was. He could no longer remember which way was up and out, and which way was down and in. The flesh between his hands was still knitting; he needed to hold on just a little bit longer.

He was going to sleep for a week when he was done.

“Gabe, knock his ass out.”

What? No—

Cyn was going to kill him.

Okay, maybe not kill him. He was so good at trying to die all on his own. He certainly didn’t need any help on that front.

“Thanks.” Cyn took the spare clothes and, uncaring who saw, changed out of the shredded, bloody shirt she’d been wearing into the T-shirt.

“You’re welcome.” Sarah sat next to her and held her hand. “You’re really angry.”

Damn straight, she was. He could have stopped when he knew she’d live. Instead, he’d insisted on trying to heal everything down to the smallest scratch.

“Gabe risks his life every day, and not just as a Hunter. He’s Marshall’s Second, and a cop. I worry every time he walks out the door that it will be the last time I see him.”

Oh hell. Another Dr. Phil moment was coming on. Cyn could feel it. “I understand Julian’s obsession with healing. Hell, I encourage it.” She shot Sarah a wry glance. “Mostly. It’s when he pushes beyond what he should do that I want to tie him up and lock him in the closet.”

Sarah laughed softly, not wanting to disturb the members of the Pride currently sleeping. It seemed all of the Pumas had arrived at the hospital to rally around Julian, ready and willing to lend a helping hand.

Emma, the tough Curana, was currently curled up on Max’s lap, sound asleep. She looked young and innocent, and Max watched her with the same loving focus that Julian lavished on Cyn.

Becky was nibbling on some fruit Simon handed her, her eyes red-rimmed from either tears or lack of sleep. Possibly both. Simon barely looked away from his conversation with Adrian, until she stopped eating. Then he turned and frowned at her, pointing to the fruit, ignoring everything around her until she rolled her eyes and once again began to nibble.

Adrian was stroking Sheri’s hair, her head pillowed in his lap, her dark glasses protecting her sensitive eyes.

Gabe was pacing, his gaze glued to a subdued looking Ryan. Ryan was staring at his hands as if he’d never seen them before, a haunted look on his face. Occasionally he would rub them together, a washing motion that made her wince in sympathy. He wouldn’t be forgetting how he’d torn a man apart any time soon, no matter how justified he’d been. Gabe had told Cyn he wouldn’t be arresting Ryan for defending her, but he was going to keep an eye on the Grizzly to see if he showed signs of going feral.

Cyn hoped not. As much as Glory protested, she would be devastated if anything happened to Ryan.

William and Barbara Bunsun, Alex’s parents, had both gone into Julian’s room to help his healing along. They’d both come out white-faced and exhausted. She still didn’t know if they’d been able to help, but she was grateful nonetheless.

“Cynthia Reyes?”

Cyn stood as the doctor entered the room. With Jamie still out of commission, there was no longer a Pride doctor in the hospital. The very human doc smiled at Cyn and waved her over.

“How is he?”

“He’ll be fine. He’s exhausted and dehydrated. We’ve got him on a drip and a sedative for now. He keeps fighting us, wanting to get up and find you.”

“Can I see him?” She clenched her hands to keep from wringing them like some weepy romance heroine. She wanted to see him so badly she was ready to burst into tears.

“Yes, but make it brief. He needs his rest more than anything right now.”

“Thanks, doc.” She practically ran into the room Julian was in, stopping dead at the sight of her mate hooked up to tubes and wires again.

This shit had to stop. She was ready to set up a bedroom in the hospital, she was here so damn much.

Julian whimpered, twisting in his sheets, fighting the medication that kept him unconscious. Cyn placed her hand over his, careful of the IV strapped to the back, and watched in astonishment as he immediately settled down.

It seemed Super Bear was still trying to save her, whether she needed it or not.

She settled in the bedside chair, prepared to fight to stay by her mate’s side. If Julian needed her presence in order to rest, then she wasn’t going anywhere, hospital regulations be damned.

It was hours before Julian stirred. Cyn had a cramp in her lower back, her arm was partially asleep from reaching for his hand, and her eyes were dry from lack of sleep. But when those beautiful brown-flecked silver eyes opened and focused on her, she smiled. “Hey, Jules.” She swallowed around tears she refused to shed. “I love you. Moron.”

He was too weak to say it back, but that was okay. He was alive. Nothing else mattered.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, damn it.” Cyn’s hands were fisted on her hips. Her foot tapped out an annoyed tattoo on the floor. “Fuck this, no.”

Julian sighed and adjusted the flash he was hanging on the wall. In its new thick, black frame it stood out against the pearly gray walls of her new shop. “It’s the best solution for everyone, Cyn.”

Cyn set the box of ink she’d been carrying into the back room on the floor and growled. “You are not going to medical school, Jules.” No fucking way. If he went back and became a doctor he’d have to do a residency in a hospital for at least three years. What the hell was he thinking? He’d kill himself! He’d been out of the hospital a month and now he wanted to go back? “Max and Rick are working on a solution. Let them deal with the shifter doc, please.”