“He’ll be all right.”
Someone cleaned him up. Then hands lifted him carefully onto a stretcher, secured him. Noah’s quiet reassurances soothed him as they started rolling him away.
Would he be all right? He wasn’t so sure. All he knew was they were taking him somewhere to be shut away from his mate. Perhaps they’d never let him out.
His wolf’s mournful howl followed him into unsettling dreams.
* * *
Nick surveyed the damage to the recreation room with a heavy heart. The last time he’d been this afraid for one of his team was when he’d met Kalen Black.
More than just Micah’s body had been damaged by Gene Bowman and his evil crew—his spirit had taken a near-lethal blow. What had been left behind was a twisted mess of a man and his wolf. But not broken. Despite Bowman’s horrible experiments, the bad reaction to the myst, and Micah’s trouble getting his head straight, that was one glimmer of light that remained—they had pushed Micah to the very limit of his endurance and sanity, but they had not managed to break him.
The other was Jacee. A wolf would swim an ocean for his mate. Battle an army without a single weapon, save what nature gave him. Micah finding her couldn’t have come at a better time, and she just might be his saving grace.
If Mac could just get that damn drug out of Micah’s system, get his head clear, the man might have a fighting chance.
But there was more trouble coming. The past wasn’t finished with the wolf, not by a long shot. Micah had to get himself together, or his enemy, when he finally chose to strike, would win. Nick had tried to impress that upon the younger wolf, and he could only hope his words had taken root.
Because he’d interfered in the matter all he possibly could. He’d warned Micah of the coming danger, and that was all he could do. He’d promised himself long ago to never tamper with free will again.
And Nick was nothing if not a man of his word.
Get strong, Micah. Death is coming for you.
For both of you.
Six
When Micah awoke, he was restrained.
Flat on his back, on a hospital bed, in a stark white room, he stared at the ceiling and tried to shake the muzzy fog from his brain. They’d sedated him. After what he’d done, he couldn’t blame them.
Despair threatened to overwhelm him. Not even two days had passed since his promise to keep himself in check, and he’d failed. How much of his loss of control could really be blamed on the myst? How much of it was simply the fact that he was ruined beyond redemption, deep in his soul?
He tried to move his arms again, but his wrists were securely fastened to the rails of his bed, as were his ankles. Though he knew Mac and her team wouldn’t hurt him, unreasonable fear churned in his guts. Both he and his wolf hated being tied down, left vulnerable. They hated being alone, too. Wanted their mate.
But Micah didn’t want her to see him like this. Never.
As the sedation wore off a little more, he realized he was nauseated. Anxious, too. Twitchy. He felt like he was going to crawl right out of his skin, and wished he had one or two of his pills to take away the terrible sensation. He knew then what was happening.
Withdrawal. They were detoxing him, the hard way.
“Oh, fuck.” Sweat broke out on his face, his chest. The nausea in his gut worsened by the minute and he prayed he didn’t get sick on himself, stuck like this.
He was concentrating on breathing without throwing up when the door opened. Mac hurried in, flanked by his sister, Aric, and Nick.
“Good, you’re awake,” Mac said by way of greeting. She was as serious as he’d ever seen her. So, for that matter, were the others in the room. Rowan even looked like she’d been crying, but surely that was the lighting. The group came to stand around Micah’s bed as the doctor continued.
“How are you feeling?”
“Sick. Like I’m going to vomit. My head is starting to pound.”
Mac laid a hand on his knee. “That’s to be expected during withdrawal. But I’m afraid you’re going to feel a whole lot worse before you get better.”
Dread made his heart pound. “Well, I don’t know how I’m supposed to throw up in this position, Doc. I’ll choke.”
“We’ll unfasten one of your wrists so you can lean over to the side. Once you’re detoxed you won’t be restrained at all. But that’s not really what I’m talking about.” Mac paused, as if thinking over what she had to tell him. “Your blood work came back from the lab, and we’ve isolated the anomaly.”