Left arm, right arm, both elbows sluggishly bled. Salve and bandages were the best Corday could offer. But there was nothing he could do for her throat; the mottled yellow-brown bruises were not fresh. The Omega’s injuries grew far more complicated with her legs—both kneecaps were grotesque; one gash deep enough to require stitches. He did his best with butterfly sutures, closing the gap of torn flesh, lining up the skin so that it might stand a chance of mending. Her joints would swell—that was unavoidable—and he hesitated to ice them as she was already shivering and still cold to the touch.

“You’re gonna be okay, Claire,” he promised. “You’re safe with me.”

Claire opened bloodshot eyes; she looked at the Beta whose face she could read like a book. He was scared for her. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“Shhh.” He leaned down, smiling to see her awake. Stroking the wet, tangled hair from her face, he said, “Rest your throat.”

She complied, and Corday worked quickly to finish, disinfecting every abrasion on her outer thighs, knees, and shins. Her feet were a different matter. There was little he could do, and she would hardly be able to walk in the days to come. He picked out the detritus, noting how she didn’t move or twitch even when a fresh wave of blood followed a large chunk of glass once it was pulled free. He wrapped her feet tight, and said a prayer to all three Gods that the open wounds would not fester.

Once it looked like she was asleep, he rose.

Claire’s hand shot out, her bruised fingers clawing into his sleeve. “Don’t go!”

“You need medicine,” Corday soothed, weaving his fingers with hers.

Claire held tighter, disjointed and afraid. “Don’t leave me alone.”

Brushing a pile of bandage wrappers to the floor, Corday did as she wished. He slipped under the covers beside her, offering body heat and a safe place to rest. Claire let him hold her, laying her head on his shoulder, still.

Ashamed to ask, beyond pathetic, she whispered, “Will you purr for me?”

Such a thing was an act of intimacy between lovers and family, but there was no hesitation in the Beta. Corday pulled in a deep breath and started the rumbling vibration at once. The sound was a little off—the act being something he was unaccustomed to—and though it lacked the richness of an Alpha purr, it was infinitely comforting in that moment.

“That’s nice.” Exhausted, Claire sighed. “Please don’t stop.”

Corday thumbed a spilling tear from her cheek. “I won’t, Claire.”

In the voice of a broken thing, Claire began to feel more than endless choking malaise; she felt disgust… for herself. “I hate that name.”