fever.
“I’ve got you, honey,” Clay told her softly, leaning in and resting his face against her right cheek.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Hunter asked her as he pushed her hood back, carded his fingers through her soft, brown hair, and massaged her head lightly. He loved the darkness of her tresses and the soft silkiness of the long strands despite the blood that soaked into the right side of her hair along her temple.
“That feels nice,” she murmured, leaning into his touch. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, darlin’,” Hunter whispered, overwhelmed with being in the presence of the woman he knew would bring love and happiness into their lives. “I’ll be happy to touch you like this any time.”
Abbey looked up at him and smiled, reaching up to gently rub the back of her knuckles across his cheek before rubbing her thumb across his square jaw. “Be careful with offering me that,” she told him, smiling. “I might just take you up on that.” She laughed softly then coughed as the chilly air of the early morning filled her lungs.
Clay tightened his hold on her and stood carefully. Hunter picked up the blankets, duffle bag, and backpack that lay on the ground beside them and immediately took his place beside Clay as they walked the distance to the back of the house. He pressed against Clay’s side and wrapped his free arm around their mate’s body. He held her tightly between them, sharing his warmth with her. He smiled as she cuddled against them and accepted their warmth gratefully.
“Thank you,” she whispered. She looked up at the man carrying her, saw the smudge of blood that was on his cheek, and reached up to wipe it gently from his face. “I’m sorry.”
Clay nuzzled into her hand and kissed her palm lightly. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, honey,” he told her, his voice suspiciously gruff.
“I don’t feel good,” Abbey whispered.
“We know, sweetheart,” Hunter told her, leaning down to kiss her forehead lightly. “We’re going to take you to the hospital and make sure all of your injuries are taken care of.”
“No!” Abbey croaked, struggling immediately and pushing herself from the strong arms that held her.
Clay allowed her to push from his hold to stand between them but never stepped away from her as she began to sway with dizziness. “Honey, please let us take care of you. We’ll make sure you’re safe. We’ll protect you and help you.”
“I don’t need help,” Abbey insisted, reaching out to hold onto the hands that both men offered her. “I’m fine. I just need to get warm.”
“Sweetheart, you need medical attention,” Hunter told her gently. “You have an injury here.” He reached up and touched her right temple lightly. “And you’re burning up with a fever.” He ran the back of his knuckles across her cheek to soothe her.
Abbey leaned into his touch and closed her eyes as the exhaustion that filled her made her crave his gentleness. She felt him press against her side and winced slightly as the pain in her left side flared.
“You’re hurt here, too?” Clay asked her, touching her side gently.
“I’m fine,” she insisted.
“No, honey, you’re not,” Clay stopped her gently. “Please. Let us help you.”
“But I don’t want you to be in danger,” she whispered, her body sagging against them both. “He’ll hurt you.” She knew this with certainty. If Peter had the lack of morals to actually shoot at her with every intention of killing her, he would not think twice about hurting anyone who helped her to escape and ruined his plans.
“No one is going to hurt us,” Hunter told her softly, reaching out to cuddle her against his side. “And we’re damn sure going to make certain no one is going to hurt you either. You belong to us now, and we’re going to take care of you and protect you.”
“I don’t understand,” Abbey told him, reaching up to rub her right temple, moaning when she opened up the