Chapter 79

They landed in Prince George four and half hours later. Brooke was still sleeping.

He got out of the bed slowly and realized he was still naked. He pulled on some pants and drew Brooke into his arms gently and carried her out of the plane.

He got into the back of one of the limos.

An hour and a half later they arrived at the front gate of the Pack and she was still asleep. He kissed her forehead lovingly and rubbed her shoulder.

She looked so awful, his heart ached.

They got to his house and he brought her weak body inside.

"Oh, you're okay." The relief in Duma's voice was real, "Is she alright?" He asked concerned.

"Yes, she's just sleeping." Raph replied curtly. He wanted to be alone with his mate.

"Really? She looks pretty bad."

Raphael snarled at him. Duma jumped back a little, "Sorry, but she does. Shouldn't you get a healer?"

Raphael walked past him and up the stairs. 'Maybe I should get a healer.'

He laid her down on the bed and sat next to her with her head resting on his lap. He noticed her bandage was actually part of a shirt and very old. He took it off of her head gently and saw the reason for it.

There was a bloody scab just smaller than his fist on the crown of her head. It didn't look infected, which was good, but he could smell the Alpha's scent on it. He growled in displeasure at the idea of his Alpha cleaning his mate's wound.

He redressed the wound carefully and rested her head on his lap.

She stirred, he could tell by her breathing that she had a cold. He felt her forehead, she had a fever as well. He pulled her hair out of her face and stroked her back in rhythmic circles.

At ten a.m. she woke up. He'd gotten his laptop and had been working, her head now resting on his shoulder as he laid down on the bed.

She whimpered and he kissed her forehead, asking what was wrong.

"It hurts, my head and body. Everything aches." She said in a congested voice.

He couldn't help but smile at how cute she sounded, but he also realized that she needed help.

"Shh… okay. You stay here, I'll be right back."

He went down to the kitchen and saw Duma making a sandwich for himself and snacking on some chips.

"How is she?" He asked.

"She's hungry. Why don't you stay with Thomas, or Mark and Nathan for awhile? I'm afraid we're gonna be a sick house."

"Hmm, okay." He said and headed out the door.

Raph shook his head, 'Strange kid.' He cooked up a bowl of chicken noodle soup that Brooke had bought and put it in a ceramic bowl.

He carried the steaming soup to the room and saw that she had fallen asleep again. He looked at her pale face, it had smear marks of blood and dirt, her lips were cracked and had dried blood on them too. He put the soup down and got some water.

His heart ached for how much pain she must've gone through. He stroked her cheek, she'd lost some weight and her round cheeks lacked the glow they usually held.

Her brown, sunken eyes opened and she smiled a small, sweet smile. It was a smile that immediately made his fears disappear and his heart melt in happiness.

He kissed her forehead, "Would you like some soup?"

He grew very concerned though when she shook her head and said that she wasn't hungry.

'She must be sicker than I thought.' He said alarmed.

"Okay," He tried to conceal the worry in his voice, "How about some water?"

She narrowed her eyes, as though thinking hard about the question.

"Maybe." Was her answer.

He sighed, a little less worried.

He helped her to raise her body to drink, she could barely do that. Once she had drunk one third of the glass she said that was enough, then sunk back into the mattress and fell asleep.

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair anxiously.

He changed her from her filthy clothes into her pjs, her naked body had looked so luscious and curvy, even with all the weight she'd lost. But the most important thing right now was nursing his mate back to health.

He got a towel wet and placed it on her warm forehead.

He himself had dressed now and was laying on the bed, her head on his shoulder again while he stroked her back.

~~~~~~~~

He slowly nursed her back to health.

She started to eat small amounts, but her fever still hadn't broken. She would pant and whimper and he could do nothing but place a cool towel on her forehead and give her soft caresses.

Finally, one day he woke up and the body next to him was cool. Her hair was still sticking to her forehead from drying sweat and her lips were chapped but her breathing wasn't as ragged.

When she would be awake for hours at a time he slowly began to tell her what happened.

How Slate had died and that he had lost his mind trying to find her. He struggled to tell her that he'd killed people, but when he looked at her small, tired head resting on his shoulder he could see that she wasn't appalled, just perplexed.

He was okay with perplexed.

She told him what had happened to her and what she'd felt. The cold and the hallucinations. He held her arm and pulled her close to his side. He kissed her healing head and apologized for all the pain she had gone through.

He was surprised by what she did next. She turned and grabbed his head with both of her warm hands.

"Never, ever think that what happened was your fault. It wasn't." Her nose was still a little stuffy, but she looked him hard in the eye.

"But, if I-"

"No, no. Listen, what happened happened, there's no changing that, it was unfortunate, but we can move past it, learn from it and…" She sighed softly, her warm brown eyes holding his gaze tenderly and affectionately.

Oh, he loved this woman.

"Please, just don't do that to yourself. I do that enough for the both of us." She said then rested her head on his chest.

"You shouldn't do that too, you know." He said, a happy smile on his lips.

"I know." She said then yawned, "Habits are hard to break."