Page 7

Jackson

I walk up to the pack medical center carrying the now passed out girl in my arms. Since she’s asleep, I take a second to really look at her—to study her visible injuries. My wolf thrashes against me, restless, furious, wanting to tear the world apart to protect her.

It’s so unlike him. His heated reaction would be out of character, even when protecting the pack, making me wonder why he’s so attached to this girl.

I suppose she has a kind of innocent aura that is hard to ignore.

It’s harder to imagine an ulterior motive for her being here when I see how exhausted and hurt she is.

I had mindlinked ahead to inform Doc I was bringing Emily in, so he’s waiting inside the door with a gurney and his team when I arrive. The sharp sting of antiseptic hits my nose, mixing with Emily’s delicate scent—the sweet undercurrent of her somehow cutting through the sterile air.

“What do we know?” Doc asks as I gently lay her on the gurney. He examines her, his fingers deftly prodding and probing, while nurses hook her up to different machines. Their movements so in sync with each other that it’s like a choreographed dance—well-practiced, seamless.

“Not much. She fell asleep before telling us much. Her leg seems to be the worst injury. She seemed weak, barely able to stand. Her wolf's form was covered in cuts and scrapes. Seems like she’s been on her own a while.”

Urgency hangs heavily in the air of the emergency room. Doc and his nurses scurry about, their movements swift. The rhythmic beeping of the machines fills the air as I step back a little to give them more space.

Doc frowns, pressing two fingers against her throat, then lifting her eyelids with a touch that’s surprisingly gentle. “She’s not asleep. She’s unconscious,” he mutters grimly.

“The leg is severely infected, and she has the highest temperature I’ve ever seen in a shifter. She is in a serious state of sepsis. I need to get her into surgery. If we don’t act fast, we’ll lose the leg—and her. ”

My heart slams against my ribs, my head spins. My wolf lets out an agonized howl.

I retreat further even as my wolf snarls at me, furious, demanding I stay. Doc starts rattling off orders, his nurses moving even faster now.

The old man usually looks calm. He always has everything under control.

But I can hear the tension in his voice—and that chills me more than anything.

My wolf howls as I process how bad this is.

Shifters don’t get sick or sustain injuries they don’t heal from, so why is she in such dreadful shape? What the hell happened to her?

A nurse gently leads me to the waiting area as they take Emily to the operating room. She’s an older shifter with a warm face. I think her name is Mary or Maria, but I can’t recall. “You can head off,” she says kindly, patting my arm. “We’ll keep you updated, Delta.”

I should head back out. Finish Patrol. Report back to Ryan. But my wolf won’t allow it. He wants me to stay by her side, even though that is ridiculous. I don’t even know her. But my wolf has dug his claws in. We’re not going anywhere.

I shake my head at Mary/Maria and slump into one of the hard chairs, resting my elbows on my knees, burying my face in my hands.

Tonight has fucked with my head more than I want to admit. Being hit by the scent of an unknown shifter inside our pack lands triggered an onslaught of memories I have been trying to bury.

For a brief moment, I felt like I was back there, not as a memory, but as reality itself.

It felt like I was reliving the night I destroyed everything.

The panic I had felt when I realized the pack was under attack.

The anguish I experienced as my family bonds snapped with their passing.

I was back in that night, when it all changed, and I lost everything.

I mindlink Ryan and Luca to update them on the situation and Ryan reminds me that my presence wasn’t needed for patrol in the first place, so I can go home.

There have been no further indications or traces of wolves from outside the territory detected by patrols.

Although it’s hard to be comforted by that when they couldn’t even pick up an injured juvenile.

But leaving isn’t an option. The evidence strongly suggests that this girl has been through a horrendous ordeal.

But I can’t dismiss the idea that there’s something more to her.

Shifters are pack animals, so what was she doing out there alone?

I feel like my mind is being torn in two, half of me gripped by worry about this girl I met less than an hour ago and the other half still suspicious of her.

I guess either way, the best place for me is to stay close to her .

It’s another four endless hours before Doc finally comes out to let me know she is out of surgery and that he was able to save her leg. Relief punches through me so hard I nearly sag with it.

“She’s sleeping now, but you can wait with her if you like. Absolutely no questioning her though,” he commands while raising an eyebrow. “No pushing. She needs rest, not interrogation. She’s not going anywhere until she has healed. Everything else can wait.”

Feeling thoroughly put in my place, I nod and head into her room. Doc is the only unranked wolf I would allow to speak to me that way. Even Ryan listens to him. His role is essential for the pack, and he has made it clear that in his medical center, he is the Alpha. He’s earned it.

I sink into the chair beside Emily’s bed and a sense of calmness envelops my body.

The light of the rising sun bathes the room, casting soft shadows on the walls.

The air is still and carries the acrid scent of antiseptic, but the melody of the heart monitor’s rhythmic beeping and the soft rustling of sheets as Emily’s chest rises and falls soothes me.

My heart, once racing with anxiety, slows its pace, its beats synchronizing with the gentle rhythm of my breath.

As I exhale, the tension gripping my chest seems to loosen, as if the weight of the world was being lifted off my shoulders.

I can feel my blood pressure stabilizing as the rush of adrenaline subsides at last.

The constant buzzing in my ears quietens.

The pounding in my temples eases.

And my wolf—who hasn’t stopped pacing in my head since this morning—finally lies down, calm at last.

Maybe it’s because the pack is safer if I stay close to her. That must be it. If I stay close to her, then she can’t hurt anyone. My wolf lets out a snort of disapproval. His ears perk up, as if he’s still determined to be this girl’s protector, even from me.

We’ve only disagreed once before, and our roles were reversed that time. I want to accept his intuition. But there’s too much at stake.