Chapter 82

Prescott’s POV

“She'll be fine, the Queen will be fine.” Wharton groaned, a note of frustration in his voice. “Just stop pacing back and forth and sit down so we can figure things out.” His tone was irked, but I could see the pain etched on his face as he pressed his hand to his wound.

It was clear that he was trying to comfort me, but it was difficult for him to maintain his stillness. I felt bad for being the soul behind his wound, but my wife matters most.

“Prescott, please… She'll be fine.” Wharton groaned out for the umpteen times as I continued pacing back and forth.

My fingers curled into a tight fist upon hearing that. I scoffed, marching towards Wharton who was sitting quietly on the couch in my office with his palm on his chest.

I leaned forward, my gaze burning into his eyes. I grabbed the edge of the couch he was sitting on, caging him in between my arms.

“She’ll be fine, you say?” I scoffed, my mind was running wild as I stared at the confused look on my Beta’s face.

He