WarDog: Book Twelve in the Galaxy Gladiators Alien Abduction Romance Series Alana Khan (i like reading TXT) 📖

Of course, we did, he replies as if there was never a shred of doubt. He prances and swaggers inside, pulling a laugh from me even in my weakened state.

My legs can barely hold my weight and I stagger. WarDog whimpers in worry.

Get help, you’re hurt, can’t fix this.

I pull my knife from my leg holster and stagger to Khour as I leave a thick trail of blood. I’m weak and unsteady on my feet, but I make it to Khour, touch the auto-zip to remove the body armor, and stab his chest over and over, making sure the bastard is dead. If there is a heart in his chest, it’s no longer beating.

I have just enough energy to whisper, “Come” into the comm and the world goes black.

Chapter Thirteen

Willa

I’m waiting at the gangway as Stryker and Dax rush Bayne up the ramp on a hover-stretcher. I’ve been standing here since Zar comm’d and told me Bayne had called for retrieval and only gotten out the word ‘come’ before the comm ended.

Aerie’s been at my side for the last hour, holding my hand because I’ve lost my mind waiting for them to bring him back to me.

Dr. Drayke is here, medpad in hand, ready to start diagnostics the moment he’s onboard.

“Zar!” It’s either Axxios or Braxxus’s voice over the overhead comm. I can’t tell the twin pilots’ voices apart. “A fleet of six harriers is coming in fast. As soon as the door closes, we’ll launch into hyperdrive.”

When the hatch closes, I grab the top bar of the hover-stretcher as we race to medbay. I’m glad I’m holding on when I feel the distinctive lurch as we shift into hyperdrive.

Bayne is pale. And covered in blood. The skin on his chest is charred; some of the pelt high on his shoulders is singed. Worse, though, is the gaping wound in his belly. It’s three inches wide with jagged edges and appears to have bled profusely although it’s not bleeding now.

I want to ask Dr. Drayke a thousand questions, but one glance at his serious face and his swift fingers flying over his pad tells me it’s more important for him to tend to my male than to answer me.

My male. Yes, there it is. Bayne is my male. I love him and he loves me. And bonus! WarDog is a two-hundred-pound lovebug who’s a great addition to the mix. The male I love, though, looks like if they don’t run faster he’ll die of blood loss on the stretcher before they reach medbay.

Dr. Drayke is an amazing male. He’s supremely competent and has the kindest bedside manner of any doctor I’ve ever met. The fact that he’s not calmly reassuring me makes my heart race. I’ve seen him with other males’ mates when they’ve come back on board with an injury from a match. He’s kind and unflappable and tells them not to worry.

No comforting platitudes are escaping his mouth now.

Aerie is following us, but Drayke won’t let her into medbay.

“I only need essential personnel. And of course you, Willa.”

Drayke’s mate, Nova is here. She’s been training as a nurse. They have a telepathic link and can move so swiftly as the perfect team that it’s a joy to watch them. There’s no joy today, though. My top teeth nibble my bottom lip as I press my back against the wall to get out of the way and watch Drayke give orders to the medbot while Nova cleans his chest wound.

“The belly’s the worst,” Drayke says out loud for my benefit. “The laser to the chest isn’t serious. Well . . .” he pauses as he checks readings on his medpad, “it is serious, but it's the abdominal wound that’s the real worry. Internal damage and bleeding could . . .”

Maybe I overrated his bedside manner skills. He did not reassure me.

I stand motionless for two hours while the medical team and the medbot do what they can. Bayne’s beautiful face is pale and immobile as they rush to patch him up.

About an hour into the procedure, I realized I could hover over his right shoulder and still be out of the way. My fingers lodge into the pelt there. When I used to pet him like this in his canine form I always told myself it comforted him. But that’s partially a lie. It gives me comfort. My fingers feel at home in his soft fur.

I’ve been watching Drayke and Nova’s expressions. They don’t need to talk out loud for me to know they’re concerned. Nova’s amber eyes are especially expressive. She’s not optimistic.

“There’s nothing more for us to do right now, Willa,” Drayke says. “The bleeding has stopped, the damage has been repaired, and the blood he lost is being replaced. Time will tell. I’ll sleep in the lab next door tonight. Why don’t you sleep in your own bed?”

“Would you sleep in your own bed if Nova was lying on this operating table, Doc?”

He flashes me a small smile. “That’s not a hypothetical, Willa. Nova was in my medbay when we first met. I did not sleep in my own bed.”

They look at each other with the most tender expression. They are so happily mated I used to envy them when I watched them together in the dining room. They can’t keep their hands off each other.

“I’ll roll a bed in here from one of the other rooms. You can sleep just inces from Bayne. I understand.”

The sympathetic look he flashes does not inspire optimism.

A few minutes later, they’ve washed off the blood, covered Bayne in a clean sheet and blanket, and left me here alone with my male. I shove the bed next to his, lie down, and stroke the bare arm nearest me.

I haven’t prayed in a long