They had all seen that endless trail of blood. None of them could fathom the sheer force of will Lucian had relied on to bring Loyce back safely.
"Severe leg trauma, accompanied by hypothermia," Morris replied, "but it's under control."
Gordon let out a long, heavy sigh. "This time, we are the ones who owe him."
"I wouldn't call it owing him," Hank interjected. "His life belongs to our sister anyway. Without her medical expertise, that neurotoxin in his system would've put him in an early grave long ago."
"Let's just call it fate," Morris soothed. "And tone down the aggression, Hank. If Lucian hadn't risked his life today, both Forrest and Loyce would have been in grave danger. We need to thank him."
When Loyce finally woke up from her deep sleep, someone had already changed her into clean clothes, and the wounds on her leg had been professionally treated and dressed. She did a quick self-check, then moved to get out of bed to check on Forrest.
Just then, Hank walked in carrying a tray of food. Seeing her awake, he hurried over. "Loyce, you're up! How do you feel? Does anything hurt?"
Loyce shook her head. "I'm fine. I feel great. Where is Forrest?"
"Don't worry about him. Thanks to your antidote, his condition stabilized completely. I had the medevac chopper take him to a proper ICU early. The facilities out here are too basic."
Hank gently cupped his sister's pale cheek, his eyes filled with lingering distress. "You nearly gave Grandpa and the rest of us a heart attack."
"I'm fine." Loyce's mind flashed to the moment Lucian collapsed in the snow. Her gaze locked onto Hank. "Where is Lucian? I want to go see him."
Hank set the food tray down and handed her a spoon. "He's perfectly fine. You definitely don't need to worry about him. Eat your food first."
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