The Defiant Claim - The Claim: Book 2 [LGBTQ+]
Chapter 20 - Mik (Part 3)

Another week passed and Dr. Waaban greeted Mik when he entered the room. Mik had been staring off into space in Sam’s direction. His focus not on him, but his mind was always on him.

“Good morning, Mikwam. How are you doing today?”

“Bored.”

“Have you been talking with Sam?”

“That’s an odd thing to ask... but yeah. A little.”

“It’s not odd at all in these circumstances. It is believed that the patient can hear their loved ones even when they sleep. It helps in the healing process.”

“Would I be able to see into his mind right now if we had sealed the bond before?”

The doctor’s footsteps stopped at the foot of his bed. “Good question. I’m not entirely sure.”

“You never tried with you mate?”

“I don’t have a mate.”

“Oh.” Mik paused, not sure how to respond to that. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine. We believe she passed away in childhood.”

Mik didn’t want to upset him by prying, but he was curious now. “How do you know?”

“A hunch. A feeling,” he stated, his voice calm and even. “I remember I was thirteen and playing with my younger brother. Out of the blue, I fell to the ground. An unbearable pain shot through me for a few agonizing seconds that felt like minutes. And then, I was okay. I felt different. Sad. Empty. Heavy heart. All I wanted to do was sleep for days on end. I got better, but I never forgot what it felt like. We all assumed that my mate had died that day. That was how it was described for pups who had shifted but never met their mates. If a mate died before one’s first shift, there was no way of telling. That’s what the elders say, anyway.”

“I’m sorry. That sucks. Is that when you decided to become a doctor?”

“I think I always wanted to be a doctor, but that may have been an added incentive. I’m going to check your back now.”

Mik felt him draw close before his gentle fingers worked the edge of the bandages and peeled them back. Fingers brushed over a few scabs—Mik could feel the difference.

“Move your right arm up over your head,” he instructed.

Mik complied and felt the stretching of his muscles under weak, tender flesh.

“Okay, put it down and do the same with your left.”

Again, Mik felt the muscles shifting positions without tearing of flesh, nor the smell of blood.

“Good. Looks like it’s almost healed now. You still have some scabs where the lashes went deeper, but we’ll put some bandages on those in case they break open. Otherwise, I’d say it’s okay for you to get up and move about. I’d still recommend you don’t lean against anything or sleep on your back until the last bit heals up. Avoid soap and scrubbing your back when showering, and be careful when you dry yourself off with a towel. Try to avoid sudden, jerky movements with your back muscles.”

He helped Mik sit up, his legs hanging over the edge of the bed. He stretched his arms up over his head and in front across his chest. It felt good to move again. Looking down at himself, he noticed he lost weight. Muscles that he had worked hard to build were softer. Lifting his eyes to Sam’s bed, he gazed upon his face. There was more color in his lips and cheeks, but his eyes were still closed. His hair was a bit longer. His body still encased in the various contraptions supporting him and ensuring his bones healed properly.

“How much longer...?”

Dr. Waaban followed his gaze. “Don’t know. We’ll crack him open tomorrow and run some tests. But as for when he’ll wake up... That’s up to him.”

Swallowing, Mik nodded his head.

“I’ll call to have someone bring you food and some clean clothes.”

“Thanks,” Mik murmured, lowering his head and inclining his neck to the side.

Dr. Waaban stood there for a moment before reaching out and putting his hand on Mik’s shoulder. “The hard part of Sam’s recovery is over. It’s just a matter of time now for him to wake up. I know things will get harder for you then because you both have issues you have to work through, but until then, you’re staying here with him. Alpha understands now that Sam needs you in his recovery. He’s not going to jeopardize Sam’s health again until he wakes up. Keep talking to Sam during this time. Share secrets with him or things you would never dare tell him if he could talk back. Be honest with yourself. This will be good practice for you for when he wakes up and starts demanding answers from you.”

“Thank you,” Mik said in a low voice. “I’ll try.” Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Dr. Waaban left and Mik sat there on the edge of the bed, hunched over, his hands in his lap. The thought of talking to Sam while he was unconscious sounded crazy, but it made a lot of sense when the doctor put it that way. He could tell him anything and Sam wouldn’t be able to argue or talk back. There would be no judgment of his past or his messed up thoughts.

‘You could run. Now would be the time to make your escape,’ his father’s voice whispered in his left ear.

He swatted his ear, as if that would brush the ghost away. Sam needed him. He wasn’t going anywhere.

‘Oh, but the doctor told you the hard part of his recovery was over. He’ll pull through whether you’re there or not. Now is your chance.’

“Would you have abandoned Mamaw if she were in Sam’s place? I know for a fact that you wouldn’t, so fuck off and leave me alone,” he muttered under his breath.

Rising to his feet, he stepped forward to Sam’s bedside and peered down at him. His heart clenched in his chest, sinking down. He couldn’t get a good look at Sam under all the plaster encasing his body. Only his face was visible, sleeping peacefully with no indication of when those robin’s egg blue eyes would open again.

“Sam? If you can hear me in some way... I’m sorry.” A lump formed in his throat. “I know that doesn’t mean anything to you now but... I am sorry. I was only thinking about myself. I never wanted you to do this.” Deep breath in. Deep breath out. “What were you thinking? How could you do this? I know this is my fault but still... what were you thinking?”

Hanging his head, he returned to his bed and sat down. His fingers tangled through his greasy, matted hair, remembering how soft it was when he woke up in the hospital bed with Sam at his side. The delicate little braids brushing against the side of his head. The amount of care it must have taken...

His eyes stung, burning with the image of Sam’s gentleness, taking care of him with such devotion...

“I’m sorry,” his voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.”

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