I watched Kaelen's chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm as he slept with his head in my lap. The medication had finally pulled him under, his face relaxing into a peaceful expression I rarely saw when he was awake. My fingers gently stroked through his dark hair, careful to avoid the bruised area near his temple.
My own exhaustion pressed down on me like a physical weight, but I couldn't bring myself to disturb him by moving. He needed this rest more than I needed comfort. The doctor's warnings about his broken ribs echoed in my mind, along with the knowledge of what he'd endured during those days trapped under rubble.
My poor, strong Alpha. Always fighting, always protecting.
