Chapter Fifty-Five. Entertaining Myself.
Hannah’s Point of View.
I jump, well, I say that, but it is more like a painful hobble, out of the bed, and place my hand on Del’s back.
“Apollo, let Del have control back, please. I need him,” I whisper to him.
The wolf turns to look at me, as the Doctor is struggling to breathe, spluttering something or other in his defence, of why he must look at my vajayjay.
“It's okay, Apollo, you want me to get better, to do that you must let the doctor go and give Del control back,” I attempt to appease my mate’s wolf. I look at my mate deep in his eyes, which have turned black rather than chocolate, his nails have elongated, and his teeth have turned to canines and fangs. He is a hairs width away from shifting completely if I don’t get the wolf to
