The word “hope” may be in this paragraph too often.
From Protector of the Grey House:
Charlie changed back to human before he touched Natalia. He saw the blood on her back and hissed in sympathy. The wounds on her neck and back bled freely. He had scratched her up in his haste to kill the creature. Natalia was out cold, perhaps thankfully. Charlie ripped her shirt up more than it was and hurriedly pressed a makeshift bandage to her neck. The blood held it in place, and he turned into wolf form. Charlie did his best to lick her wounds clean, changed back to human and used the rest of her ripped shirt as a bandage for her back. It was too dark to know if he had done a good enough job, and the place reeked of death and decay. He worried about infection, but there was nothing he could do.
Charlie gathered her in his arms, and wondered how the hell he would be able to get her out of here. He looked up and knew, beyond doubt, there was no way out. He sighed, settled himself comfortably against the wall and cradled Natalia. He had to wait for help, and would keep his hand over her neck bite to staunch the bleeding. It was the worst wound. Rebecca knew where he was. It was a small hope, but it was hope. He learned long ago, that when it came to Rebecca, he could hope without worry. She would find him. He sighed again, kissed the top of Natalia’s head and started the long process of waiting.