King Micajah

t w e l v e

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An incoherent mumble comes out of her lips, as her consciousness comes around. Her eyes feel heavy as they open, meeting a plain white ceiling. Her throat hurts and feels dry, so dry that whenever she swallows it's as if a thousand knives cut through her. Her entire body feels dazed, and weak. Her limbs feel heavy, and she can't feel anything on her abdomen. Her vision blurs over a little, her head unable to think clearly.

There are two males present in the hospital room with her. Uriah and Jayden have noticed her stirring and are immediately to her side, watching her features contort as they try to adjust. Jayden grabs her some water, and Uriah sits her up so she can drink through the straw.

"Why do I feel so fucking weak? It was only a bite," the words droop, almost a slur.

"It's the anaesthetics you were put under. They had to do some stitches and it was quite deep. It would've hurt it you were awake. That's why you feel like this. It'll take a day or so to pass," Jayden tells her, as Uriah sets her back into a laying position. Adah feels too groggy to keep up.

"How long has it been?" she asks, brows furrowing, words still a little drowsy.

"About six hours. Your stitches didn't take long at all, but you slept for a while afterwards – again, because of the anaesthetics." Jayden informs her.

"I think it's because of your wolf too. The mate bond, must've also taken a hit. It's why your healing is taking a tad longer, she's in pain too," Uriah adds softly.

"Where's, where is Mica-?" she can't finish the sentence, too lulled by tiredness.

"We don't know. He took some time to himself afterwards," Uriah tells her, arms folding before him. He wasn't mad at Micajah, he didn't know what he felt.

"Are the other wolves okay?" she mumbles.

"Yep. No severe casualties," Jayden mutters.

"Don't worry about anything. Sleep it off Adah, it's all okay. We've got this," Uriah tells her softly, and she doesn't respond, already giving into sleep.

When she wakes up again, she can tell it's much later, now treading into the night. The room is dark, except for the lamp next to her, glowing with white light. The door of the room is closed, and the curtains are drawn. She can't make anything else out in the dark.

She sighs, feeling wide awake now. Her stomach grumbles, moaning in hunger.

The door opens, making her jump in surprise. Her eyes latch onto a small woman, with mousey brown hair. She adorned a nurse uniform. Adah sits up onto the bed, waiting carefully. The woman approaches her, asking her questions about how she felt – the normal routine check-up. Adah answered all of them warily. The nurse had her lay on her back, and lifted the gown she wore. The right side of her abdomen was covered in a bandage, that had some old dried blood on.

Adah's cheeks flush red, feeling a heated gaze on her as the nurse changes the dressing. Her eyes flicker up to the threshold of the door. The King stands, his features sullen, eyes stoic and lips pressed together tightly. He doesn't say a word, his eyes no longer meeting with Adah, but having zeroed in onto the wound. Adah looks down, her features cringing. It looks gnarly, the black stitches still sewn in and not dissolved yet, the flesh around it tinging green and crusted with dry blood.