The Woodland Packs - Page 2

I’ll be lost without him.

Taylor led me straight to my parents’ house and into the lounge, where my father was laying on the couch and my mother was on the floor, kneeling over him.

His face was deathly pale and his breath wheezed in and out of his chest like it consumed all of his energy just to stay alive for the next moment.

“What happened?” I asked as I crouched down next to my mother.

Mom turned and squeezed my hand. “Please, Dexter, please. Take him to the hospital in Little Creek.”

Little Creek was the nearest human town. “Mom, no. You know that’s not our way.”

We have a healer in our pack, but he was rarely required for anything other than fighting injuries. Our paranormal genetics meant that we heal extremely fast and rarely fell ill, unless it was something extremely serious.

My mom grabbed my shoulders with surprising force. “Dexter, I am not ready to lose him. Not yet. He can’t die. Take him to a doctor. Please.”

I looked towards my father, who met my gaze with his own.

He didn’t nod, but he didn’t shake his head no, either. And for the first time ever, I saw fear in my father’s eyes. He didn’t want to die.

The decision was made for me. I had to take him in.

“Taylor, grab Jay and the truck. Bring it ‘round the front. I’ll carry Dad out.”

Taylor looked at me for a moment, as though questioning my logic. But in the end, he followed my instructions as any good Beta would.

“Thank you, Dexter! Thank you,” my mother said, as she stood up and moved out of the way.

I leaned down and lifted my father up over my shoulder, grunting with the effort. He’s a dead weight and he weighed more than me.

And up until yesterday, he was still as strong as ever. Or so I’d thought.

I arranged his arm over my shoulder and put my arms around his waist so that I could carry him out to the truck.

“Let’s go, Dad.”

I didn’t know if a human hospital could save him, but if there was a chance, then I had to try.

I limped outside under the weight of my father’s bulk, his ragged breathing echoing in my ear. His skin was clammy beneath my palms.

“Are you sure this is what you want, Dad?” I asked, as the vehicle pulled up.

If my father didn’t want the humans to help him, then I wouldn’t force him.

My father nodded, but just barely.

Okay. I was doing the right thing.

“Let’s go then, old man.”

That got the briefest of smiles from my dad as I hefted him to the back seat of the full-sized truck.

Taylor helped me get him situated, then I climbed into the driver’s seat.

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I adjusted the rear vision mirror so I could see my father’s ashen face.

“Little River is an hour away, so don’t you dare die on us before I get you there, Dad.”

Tags: Amelia Shaw Paranormal
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