Chapter 24

Toney moved quickly, his hands gentle as he listened to Raymond’s lungs. He shifted his stethoscope from one side of Raymond’s chest to the other, listening carefully before lowering it.

His fingertips pressed cautiously along Raymond’s ribs, searching for anything out of place. The moment he touched a particularly tender spot, Raymond’s body stiffened. A weak, involuntary groan slipped from his throat, and his brows pulled tightly together. His fingers twitched against the sheets. 

“Possible fractures,” Toney said quietly.

 He moved lower, continuing his examination with painstaking care. When his fingers reached the left side of Raymond’s abdomen, he barely applied any pressure before Raymond reacted.

A strangled yelp tore from his throat.

His entire body jerked violently away from Toney’s hand, his stomach tightening as he instinctively curled inward to protect himself. His knees drew slightly toward his chest, and one trembling hand clawed weakly at the sheets. His face contorted as a sharp breath caught painfully in his throat. 

Toney immediately stopped.

"Easy, son. I’m done here," he said softly, watching Raymond’s reaction with concern. 

For several moments, Raymond’s body continued to tremble, fighting to pull air into his lungs that seemed unwilling to cooperate. The pain lingered even after Toney’s hand moved away, leaving Raymond hunched defensively.

I placed my hand gently on Raymond’s thigh, rubbing slow, soothing circles against the tense muscle. His body was still trembling beneath my touch, every breath shallow and uneven as he struggled to settle after the sudden burst of pain. Beside me, Colt reached over and carefully ran his fingers through Raymond’s sweat-slicked hair, smoothing the damp strands away from his forehead. Draegan reached down and wrapped his hand securely around Raymond’s trembling one.

Raymond’s breathing gradually began to slow, each breath coming a little easier as the trembling in his body subsided, allowing him to slowly uncurl himself.

Toney looked toward one of the nurses. "Page anesthesia."

"They're already on their way,” she replied quickly with tears welling up in her eyes.

"Good. I want CT imaging before we take him upstairs," he said.

The CT scan took less than fifteen minutes, but every second of it seemed to crawl by.

By the time the machine finished its final pass, Draegan and Colt had already returned from retrieving Raymond’s belongings and making sure his new room at the pack house was prepared. Neither of them had said much when they came back.

The three of us stood inside the control room, watching through the observation window as Raymond lay on the narrow table. Even under medication, his body never truly relaxed. His shoulders remained tense while his fingers twitched against the table every few seconds.

Draegan hadn't said a word since we'd arrived. His hands were shoved so deeply into his pockets, I was half surprised he hadn't ripped straight through the fabric. His shoulders were rigid, his posture unnaturally still, and the muscles along his jaw flexed every few seconds.

  Colt stood beside him with his arms folded tightly across his chest, his expression carefully blank. To anyone who didn't know him, he probably looked calm—controlled, even.

I knew better. 

I’d seen Colt angry before. 

This wasn’t ordinary anger.

This was the kind of rage that didn't need to shout or make threats. It simply sat there beneath the surface, cold and suffocating, waiting for the slightest excuse to erupt. Every muscle in his body seemed locked down by sheer restraint, as though he were holding his wolf back by force alone.

The silence coming from him was almost more intimidating than an outburst would have been.

Even seasoned warriors knew better than to test Colt when he became like this.

[Well, would you look at this? If killing intent alone could kill, everyone within a hundred miles of you three would be long gone by now,] Anubis remarked, amusement lacing his deep, rumbling voice. 

I glanced toward Draegan and Colt, then back through the observation window at Raymond. 

[Not exactly the time for jokes, Anubis.]

[Who said I was joking?]

A low chuckle rumbled through my mind, but it quickly faded when Anubis’s attention settled on Raymond.

[They’re going to pay,] Anubis growled.

[Oh, they will,] I answered, my lips curved into a slow, merciless smile.

The scanner finally powered down, its mechanical hum fading into silence as the radiology technician stepped away from the control panel and turned toward us.

“I’ve forwarded the images to Dr. Toney for review. He’ll go over them with you back in the trauma bay.”

Without another word, the three of us followed the technician out of the control room and down the corridor toward the trauma bay.

꧁༺ ✦ ༻꧂

Toney and Monica stood before a large monitor, dozens of scans displayed across the screen. Toney had his arms crossed, his jaw tight as his eyes moved over each image. Monica leaned closer, her brows drawn together as she pushed her glasses higher on her nose, her eyes narrowing at the scans.

Toney rubbed a hand over his jaw before turning around to face us. 

“The good news,” he said, letting out a slow breath before continuing, “is that there’s no intracranial hemorrhage.”

We stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue.

“He has swelling consistent with repeated blunt-force trauma to the head. Judging by the other tissue changes…” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “...he’s suffered multiple blows to his head numerous times throughout the years.”

“...Jesus Christ,” Draegan whispered.

Toney switched to another image. A picture of Raymond’s lungs appeared on the screen.

“No pneumothorax, but…” Another pause. “He has six fractured ribs. Three fresh.” His finger moved across the scan. “The other three are older injuries that look to have been broken and healed multiple times. There are fractures throughout both forearms. The right radius shows evidence of multiple fractures over time.”

I stared at the monitor, heartbreak and rage simultaneously building heavily in my chest.

Toney pulled up the images of Raymond’s wrists. “They’ve been restrained, repeatedly.” He zoomed in farther. “The fractures are consistent with prolonged compression and repeated force while his wrists were bound.”

The room exploded.

“What the fuck!?” Draegan roared, his aura burst outward so violently that several loose papers flew from a nearby desk. “I’ll fucking kill whoever did this!” His breathing came hard. “They tied him up!” His voice cracked with fury. “They fucking bound his wrists so he couldn’t escape while they beat him!”

Colt still hadn't moved. He had partially shifted; his eyes a bright crimson, his canines lengthened slightly, the muscles in his jaw flexed so hard I thought he might break his own teeth.

Monica looked away. I could see tears gathering in her eyes before she turned her head. Her fists were clenched, and I could feel the anger radiating off of her. 

My own anger was boiling away inside me. I had to use all of my strength not to lose whatever control, if any, I had left. 

“There are additional burns,” Toney continued, drawing our attention back to him. 

The images on the monitor changed again. Dark patches appeared across Raymond’s wrists, then his shoulders, back, and parts of his thighs.

“They’re burns from silver,” he said in a voice so cold, the temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees. 

Draegan let out a broken, humorless laugh as he paced back and forth, his hands clenched at his sides. “They tortured him… poisoned him… made him suffer.”

Another scan appeared, Raymond’s shoulder.

“His right shoulder has recently been dislocated.” Click. “The X-ray shows signs of impact fractures and bruising to the bones.” Click. “His collarbone was broken at least once.” Click. "There are stress fractures throughout both shins." Click. "He also has evidence of repeated trauma to both knees."

Toney finally pulled up the abdominal images.

"The spleen." His expression darkened. "There are multiple lacerations throughout and severe swelling."

Silence. Complete silence.

"How..." She stopped, tried again. "...how did he survive?" Monica said. Her voice was shaking so badly, she could barely get the words out.

Nobody had an answer.

I felt something inside me snap—not explosively, quietly, coldly. My bloodlust rolled through the room, the lights overhead flickered as everyone instinctively stepped back. I didn't even realize I'd released it.

"He is an Alpha. Son of a pack leader" My voice barely sounded like my own. "And yet here he is. Laid up in a hospital, in our pack, with wounds consistant with torture." My body trembled from uncontrollable rage. 

Someone had spent years trying to break him.

"They're going to answer for every… single… one of these injuries." I growled through clenched teeth, each word laced with fury I could barely keep contained. My hands curled into fists at my sides, my nails biting into my palms as I fought the urge to unleash the rage clawing its way up my throat. 

Colt and Draegan moved to either side of me, silently flanking me as they each placed a firm hand on my shoulder.