Mary Ann’s POV
“Why are you here?”
The question left my lips before I could stop it. My voice sounded weak, almost broken, and even that small effort sent pain through my chest.
Modric sat beside the bed with one hand wrapped around mine. He looked nothing like the cold, controlled Alpha who usually faced me with sharp eyes and sharper words. His shirt was wrinkled, there was dried blood across one cuff, and dark shadows rested beneath his eyes. His hair was messy, as though he had dragged his fingers through it too many times. He looked exhausted.
For a moment, he did not answer.
He only stared at me as if he had been waiting for my eyes to open.
Then his expression closed.
“You were poisoned,” he said.
I tried to sit up.
Pain moved through my body immediately, and I gasped.
Mod
