SLOANE
Damon was not just injured.
He was broken.
Completely, utterly broken in a way that made my stomach drop the second I stepped through that door.
Damon lay on his massive bed in the center of the room. The dark grey sheets underneath him were soaked through with crimson in multiple places.
His chest was bare, showing off the defined muscles I'd traced with my fingers so many times before—but now those muscles were covered in bruising so severe it looked like someone had beaten him with something metal.
Purple, black, dark blue spreading across his ribs in patterns that made me flinch just looking at them.
But his legs. God, his legs.
A compound fracture. That's what the pack doctor called it in a low voice to one of the nurses. The bone had broken through the skin in one p
