Chapter 464: Episode 462: Roxy is healing.

Over the next few days, time lost all meaning.

Roxy drifted in and out of the heavy medical sedation, her shattered physical body desperately utilizing the chemical rest to knit her fractured bones and starved organs back together.

But even through the thick, impenetrable haze of the drugs, she was never truly unconscious of her surroundings.

She could feel them.

Their constant, suffocatingly safe presence blanketed the small room like a heavy, impenetrable shield.

Even without their massive, world-ending combat auras, the sheer physical gravity of six devoted men completely dominated the space.

She could smell the faint, lingering scent of pine, ocean salt, dark earth, and embers. She could feel the solid, reassuring heat of their bodies whenever they leaned over the rails of her bed.

Despite being humans now, they still havee their unique scent to them.

Every time she whimpered in her sleep, haunted by the lingering ghost of Elias’s basement, a large, warm hand would instantly cover hers. A pair of lips would press gently against her forehead. A deep, rumbling voice would whisper her name, grounding her instantly.

It felt entirely too good to be true.

In the deepest depths of her sedated mind, Roxy was terrified that this was the final, merciful hallucination her dying brain was offering her before her heart finally stopped beating. But the steady, rhythmic beep of the monitors and the solid, undeniable weight of Ren’s fingers stroking her pulse anchored her to reality.

They were really here.

While Roxy rested, the hospital wing outside her door was entirely, spectacularly in shambles.

The fourth-floor recovery ward had never seen anything like it. The nurses, the female doctors, the administration staff, and even the cafeteria workers were finding absolutely any excuse possible to walk past Room 412.

The six men crowding the small, sterile space were breathtaking. They were towering, broad-shouldered, and possessed a rugged, otherworldly beauty that made the Earth men look like mere sketches of human beings.

They moved with a lethal, mesmerizing grace, their modern clothing doing absolutely nothing to hide the terrifying, apex-predator power coiled beneath their skin.

A young nurse with a cart of fresh linens practically tripped over her own feet when Kaelen stepped out into the hallway to retrieve a cup of tea.

The King of the North, wearing his dark turtleneck, completely ignored her blushing, stammering apology, his icy blue eyes entirely focused on the plastic cup in his hand as he walked back into the room and firmly shut the door.

The hospital staff was completely swooning. They whispered at the nurses’ station, trading shifts and arguing over who got to check the vitals of the mysterious "Mrs. Bell."

But the men were entirely, hilariously oblivious to the attention.

They did not care about the blushing smiles or the lingering glances. To the Alpha Kings, the rest of the human population simply did not exist. Their entire universe had shrunk down to the frail, sleeping woman in the hospital bed.

They were fiercely, unconditionally devoted only to her. They operated in a silent, flawless rotation, completely taking over her care from the intimidated hospital staff.

When Roxy’s fever spiked, it was Ren who sat beside her, gently wiping her sweat-dampened brow with a cool cloth, his silver eyes tracking every single breath she took.

When she was awake enough to swallow, it was Kaelen who meticulously fed her small, careful spoonfuls of nutrient broth, ensuring she didn’t choke. Caspian was constantly adjusting her pillows, making sure her bruised limbs were resting comfortably.

Syris had taken command of the room’s logistics, coldly dismissing any doctor who spoke too loudly and rearranging the medical equipment so it wouldn’t cast harsh shadows across her face.

And Zarek guarded the door.

The Dragon King barely moved from the threshold. He stood with his arms crossed over his heavy leather jacket, his golden eyes scanning the hallway with absolute, terrifying scrutiny. He looked ready to physically dismantle anyone who posed even a fractional threat to his mate.

The sheer culture clash of six overprotective, dimension-hopping Warlords trying to navigate standard human medical procedures led to moments of extreme, barely contained tension.

On the third afternoon, a senior nurse bustled into the room, holding a small plastic tray carrying a fresh syringe and a vial of antibiotics.

"Time to change the IV line and draw some fresh blood," the nurse announced cheerfully, stepping toward the bed.

She reached out, intending to unwrap the bandage around Roxy’s frail, bruised forearm.

Before her latex-gloved fingers could even touch the cotton, a massive hand completely enveloped her wrist.

Torian had moved so fast the nurse didn’t even see him step away from the window. The White Tiger Alpha towered over her, his broad chest rising and falling heavily beneath his tight gray henley. His bright blue eyes were dilated, fixated entirely on the sharp, terrestrial needle resting on the plastic tray.

To Torian’s raw, feral instincts, a stranger was about to pierce his severely injured mate’s skin with a sharp piece of metal.

A deep, chest-vibrating growl ripped from the back of Torian’s throat. It was not a human sound. It was a low, lethal, and entirely terrifying rumble that shook the plastic water cups on the bedside table.

"You will not pierce her skin again," Torian snarled, his voice dropping into a dangerous, gravelly register. His grip on the nurse’s wrist tightened just enough to completely paralyze her.

The nurse froze, the color draining entirely from her face, though a dark flush rapidly crept up her neck at the sheer, terrifying dominance radiating from the massive man holding her. She was caught halfway between absolute terror and intense attraction, completely unable to form a coherent sentence.

From the doorway, Zarek let out a heavy, irritated sigh.

The Dragon King stepped forward and casually drove his elbow directly into Torian’s ribs.

"Back off, Torian," Zarek hissed under his breath, his golden eyes flashing a sharp warning. "It is medicine. They are healing her. Let the human work."

Torian’s jaw locked. He glared at the needle, his chest rumbling with another suppressed growl.

"We are blending in," Zarek muttered, shoving Torian’s shoulder. "Act human."

Torian let out a sharp, petulant huff of air. He slowly released the terrified nurse’s wrist, taking a deliberate step back and crossing his massive arms over his chest. He glared fiercely at the wall, looking entirely like a lethal jungle cat forced into a tiny cage.

"Apologies," Syris offered smoothly from the corner, his velvet voice cutting through the tension. "My brother is exceptionally protective. Please, proceed with your duties."

The nurse swallowed hard, her hands shaking slightly as she quickly changed the IV line, entirely aware of the six pairs of predatory eyes tracking her every single micro-movement until she fled the room.

The heavy, sedated peace of the hospital room stretched on as the sun set over the city, plunging the ward into a quiet, shadowed calm.

Sometime in the absolute dead of night, the heavy chemical fog in Roxy’s brain finally began to thin.

She briefly surfaced from the sleep, her heavy eyelids fluttering open. The room was dark, illuminated only by the faint, orange glow of the city streetlights bleeding through the cracks in the window blinds. The rhythmic beep of the monitor was slow and steady.

She was not alone.

Roxy felt a heavy, incredibly warm hand gently, meticulously cleaning her face. A soft, damp cloth was being pressed carefully against her cheeks, wiping away the lingering grime and dried tears that the hospital staff had missed. The touch was so light, so exquisitely tender, it felt like a holy reverence.

She turned her head slightly against the pillow.

Sitting in the chair beside her bed was Caspian.

The King of the Southern Seas leaned forward in the dark. The faint ambient light caught the soft, golden waves of his hair. He wasn’t wearing his sweater; he was just in a soft cotton t-shirt, his broad shoulders hunched forward as he focused entirely on taking care of her.

He noticed her eyes open. His hand paused, the damp cloth resting gently against her jawline.

Caspian’s oceanic eyes were completely overflowing with unshed tears, shining in the dim light. The sheer magnitude of his love and his grief for what she had endured on Earth was written across every line of his beautiful, flawless face.

He set the cloth down on the bedside table and reached out, gently cupping her pale, bruised cheek with his large, warm hand. His thumb stroked her cheekbone, a gesture so profoundly safe it made a fresh tear slip from Roxy’s eye.

Caspian leaned in close, his face hovering just inches above hers. He pressed his forehead gently against her own, closing his eyes as he breathed in the scent of her skin.

"I have got you," Caspian whispered softly into the quiet dark, his voice thick with raw, unrestrained emotion. "We have got you. I am so sorry it took us so long."

He kissed the corner of her eye, tasting her tear.

"You must have been so incredibly scared," Caspian murmured, his warm breath brushing against her lips as his thumb stroked her pulse. "But you are safe now. I promise you, my beautiful Matriarch. You will never, ever be left alone again."