“Yeah, he’s fine-
I stopped as I heard a loud thud from upstairs. Dread suddenly filled my stomach and my wolf became restless.
“I have to go…” I mumbled as I hung up the phone.
I bolted upstairs, the sinking feeling got worse when I smelled the blood. I ran into his room, frowning when I didn’t see him. I then yanked the bathroom door open.
I clapped my hand over my mouth, tears immediately pooled in my eyes. I ran over to him and cradled him against me. I cried loudly, ignoring the blood all over me.
“SOMEBODY HELP! PLEASE!” I yelled, desperate for someone to help.
I started dragging him out of the room, but he was too heavy. I collapsed against him ahd cried louder.
“You promised….you fucking promised me!” I sobbed.
I gripped his shirt and sobbed into it, my tears slowly soaked it.
“I fucking love you, you bastard!” I continued.
“SOMEONE PLEASE!” I yelled on the top of my lungs.
“Melanie!?”
My eyes widened, “Short! Edgar is…I need help!”
“If that assho-holy shit.” He gasped as he ran into the room.
He quickly got to work and picked Edgar up. I followed behind him, refusing to let go of Edgar’ hand.
Pack members started asking us, but I didn’t bother giving them attention. I was too focused on my mate’s chest. He was barely breathing, but it was there. He was still alive.
The second we showed up with him, the doctors hurried to get him healed. Short held me back as I tried following them, claiming that I had to be near him.
“Mel, he’ll be okay. Relax.” He soothed, sitting me down.
I buried my face in my hands, “He was acting okay…I thought….it’s my fault.”
“Hey, shhhhh, this isn’t your fault. Edgar is the type of guy who has been fighting for too long. But he’s strong. Plus, if Jefferson can survive a slit throat, Edgar can survive this.” He whispered.
I buried my face in his shirt, “I don’t understand though. I love him and he loves me…why would he…?”
“Like I said, Edgar has been fighting depression and self hatred for a long time. I’ve watched him grow up being hated by his parents. This just pushed him over the edge. You have to be there for him when he wakes up.”
“Depression is one hell of a battle. It claims so many lives, but it won’t claim his. He’s not done fighting yet.”