Free Blood Moon by A.D. Ryan

was full, which wasn’t
surprising, nor was it a good sign that I’d be fortunate enough to
be seen right away. We walked toward the admissions desk, and David
filled the woman in on why we were there. She gave us some
paperwork to fill out and asked us to have a seat in the waiting
room—as if that was going to somehow make me more comfortable as
the flames of hell lapped at my shoulder and traveled down my arm.
After easing me into a seat, David sat next to me and offered to
fill everything out.
    Once my information had been documented,
David took it back to the front and rejoined me, taking my hand in
his and lacing our fingers before raising them to kiss my knuckles
softly. “How are you doing?”
    “It feels like my shoulder is on fire,” I
whispered honestly. “It’s not constant, though, so I guess that has
to count for something.”
    “We’ll be in soon,” he tried to assure
me.
    As the minutes ticked by, I watched as
several of the other people were called in. We’d been waiting just
under an hour before my name was called, and David insisted on
coming with me. I didn’t try to dispute it, because the truth of
the matter was that the idea of getting stitches made me more than
a little nauseous.
    Once inside the bright, sterile room, David
and the nurse helped me out of my jacket, and I fought back several
curse words when the nurse took to peeling the fabric of my ruined
shirt from my skin. The doctor joined us a few minutes later and
inspected the area thoroughly.
    Dr. Calvin was an older gentleman with
graying hair and kind brown eyes hidden behind stylish glasses.
Upon first impressions, he seemed like someone I could feel at ease
with. “So what happened here?” he asked, touching my shoulder
gently.
    “I was attacked by a wolf in Chaparral
Park,” I replied through clenched teeth as he cleaned the area with
antiseptic. It stung like a bitch, but I knew it had to be done, so
all I could do was squeeze the ever-living hell out of David’s poor
hand until it was over.
    The doctor worked quickly, and before I knew
it, I was being released with a shot of morphine, twenty-three
stitches, a rabies shot, and a prescription for both an antibiotic
and a mild painkiller. After thanking the doctor, David and I
headed over to the pharmacy to fill my prescriptions. Even though
my mind was still pretty foggy from the morphine, I wanted to stay
ahead of the pain, so I opened the painkillers the minute we were
in the car and took one.
    By the time we reached my house, the pill
had kicked in. I had always had a pretty low tolerance for drugs
and alcohol, so it wasn’t surprising when everything started to
feel a little hazy, and David had to help me up the front steps and
down the hall to my room. Always wanting to take care of me, he
settled me onto the bed before heading for my dresser, and I
groggily watched him go through my drawers for a fresh shirt to
sleep in. When he found a tank top and some flannel shorts, he
helped me into them and kissed my forehead softly.
    “Can I get you anything?” he asked quietly.
“Are you hungry?”
    “Mmm mmm,” I hummed, shaking my head. “I’m a
li’l sleepy.”
    Chuckling, David pulled the comforter back
and ushered me beneath it. “Okay, you lie back, and I’ll go grab
you a glass of water in case you get thirsty.”
    I wasn’t sure if it was because of the
attack, or because my state of mind had been altered from the
painkillers, but a sense of panic rose from my belly and clenched
in my chest. I didn’t know what brought it on; all I knew was that
I didn’t want to be alone. Before he could leave the room, I
reached out and snatched him by the wrist. “Wait.” He turned
around, his eyes moving from mine to my bandaged shoulder. “You’ll
stay with me, right?”
    Smiling, David cradled my jaw in his free
hand. “Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere. I’m just going to the
kitchen, and then I’m going to phone your parents to let them know
you’re