CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX 

HAZEL

*

‘You got yourself hurt. Do you think it's easy to tend your wounds, you slow-healing omega?’ Darius asked. 

We were in the bathtub once more, and he was cleaning my wounds like he'd done when we both made it from the Land of The Dead. 

‘Do you have to spell it out?’ I asked. 

‘Where does it hurt?’

‘My head hurts. So does my back. My ribs seem to have cracked a little. There are numerous scratches and bruises here and there. I feel pain literally everywhere, and cold too. It's miserable, Darius.’

Then he hugged me, and smiled, placing his chin on my head. 

‘Then...