Elizabeth and Rebecca covered him, and Rebecca brought out bandages and antiseptic. But who knew what was going on internally, or what damage the shocks from the Collar had done?

"He needs a hospital," Elizabeth said.

Rebecca shook her head. "The human medical world still hasn't figured out Shifters. They might kill him trying the wrong thing."

"We have to do something . . ."

Elizabeth broke off as the door darkened and Sean Morrissey strode in, the Sword of the Guardian on his back. Both Rebecca and Cherie jumped to their feet, eyeing Sean with similar looks of terror.

"No, Sean, not yet," Rebecca said, pleading. "We don't need the sword yet."

"I know that, lass," Sean said. "But you do need my mate."

Andrea stepped inside, her pregnancy evident behind her loose, light shirt. Without a word, Andrea came to Elizabeth, gave her a brief hug, and then sat on the bed next to Ronan. In silence, she peeled back the sheet, laid her hands on Ronan's bare chest, bowed her head, and closed her eyes.

She stayed in that position for a time, unmoving except for her brows drawing together in concentration. Cherie buried her face in Rebecca's shoulder. Mabel, next to Elizabeth, squeezed her hand. Olaf said, in his loud, child's voice, "Ronan will die?"

"No, lad," Sean said. "Not tonight."

The sword on Sean's back emitted a soft ting. Elizabeth's gaze went to it, but the others in the room didn't seem to notice. Maybe it was supposed to do that.

Andrea drew a long breath. Then, to Elizabeth's amazement, the big cuts on Ronan's throat started to close. As she watched, the wounds narrowed, dried, and fused, leaving long scabs in place of the chewed and serrated flesh.

The bruises and cuts on Ronan's face and around his Collar started to fade, and Ronan's breathing eased. After a long time, he let out a sigh and opened his eyes.

He looked around at the people who encircled his bed--his family, Elizabeth and Mabel, Sean and Andrea, Spike and Ellison--and he flinched. "Oh, this is embarrassing."

"Better embarrassed than dead," Andrea said, patting his arm. "Stop doing this, Ronan. I'm getting tired of patching you up." She started to rise, then winced and put her hand on her distended abdomen.

Sean was at her side. "All right, love?"

"Fine." Andrea rubbed her belly. "There's a lot of kicking going on down there. I think she wanted to help me and was mad that she couldn't."

"Oh, can I feel?" Mabel asked brightly. "I love babies."

Andrea let Mabel place her hands on her stomach, while Sean looked on, both fond and protective.

"Hey, what about me?" Ronan asked. "I'm the fallen hero, here."

"You are going to be fine," Andrea said. "You're good inside; the wounds are only surface ones, thanks to your thick bear fur. You'll have one hell of a hangover, but that's your own fault for agreeing to fight a feral."

"A fight I won, woman. You should have seen the other guy. What happened to him, by the way, Sean?"

"He's with Dad," Sean said. "For now. Dad will take him to Liam for debriefing in the morning."

"Poor bastard," Ronan said. "Better him than me."

Everyone started talking, weighing in with opinions about the fight or the feral, or asking for details about it. Elizabeth strode into the middle of the group.

"Out. Everybody, out. Ronan needs to rest."

Instead of arguing, they obeyed, to her surprise--instantly, quietly, and quickly. Mabel was the last to go. She paused to hug Elizabeth.

"Congratulations, you two. I knew you were up to nookie in here last night. I'll have a Shifter for a brother-in-law. That is so cool."

Another squeeze, a wave to Ronan, and Mabel banged out the door.

Elizabeth came to the bed. She started to sit at Ronan's side, then gave in to her emotions and lay down next to him, wanting his arms around her.

"News travels fast," she said. "Mabel wasn't at the fight--at least, she'd better not have been. How does she know what happened with the mate-claim?"

"All of Shiftertown knows, love." Ronan ran a bandaged hand through her hair. "Half of them heard you stand up and declare that you accepted me, and you'd better bet half of them got on their cell phones right away to spread the word. Matings are a big deal around here. Shifters love them, and they love to gossip. 'Course, now Liam knows everything too. He's not going to let me hear the end of it."

"Tell him to get in line." Elizabeth lost the rigidity that had been holding her up all night. "You almost died tonight. Damn you, Ronan. And don't tell me everything's all right, because you won. You almost didn't win."

Ronan kissed her hair. "I won because of you, Lizzie-girl. Because the mate bond wouldn't let me die."

"Mate bond . . ."

Ronan twined his fingers through hers and brought their joined hands to his heart. "I feel it right here. It means that you and I belong together, that we have a bond no one can break. I hope, in time, that you feel it too."

He sounded so quietly hopeful that tears stung Elizabeth's eyes. "I do feel it, Ronan. I love you. I've never felt like this about anyone before. You're funny and warmhearted and strong and brave and generous, and I love you. And wonder of wonders, you love me back."

"You bet I love you back." Ronan's eyes darkened. "You rescued me, Elizabeth."

"No, you did a lot of saving my butt. Andrea is the one who healed you . . . how did she do that?"

"Fae magic." Ronan said it offhand, as though Fae magic was a common thing to find lying around. "Andrea's half Fae, and the magic manifested in her as a healing gift. Lucky for us. But that's not what I meant."

Elizabeth raised herself on one elbow. "You've done so much for me. All the Shifters have. I've done so little in return."

"No," Ronan said. "I've been alone a long time, Lizzie-girl. Even living here with Rebecca and taking in the cubs--I've still been alone." He released her hand and brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek. "I'm not alone anymore."

Elizabeth pressed a feather-light kiss to his lips, her heart full. "Neither am I."

Ronan slid his hand to the back of her neck, rising into the kiss. They explored and touched for a little time, in the newfound wonder of feeling.