Page 30 of Knotting the Firefighters

Hayes:What happened

Hayes:I'm coming to get you

Hayes:Send me your location

I stare at the messages, weighing the merits of honesty against the inevitable explosion that will result from admitting I ran into a burning building to rescue kittens. He'll be proud eventually—that's just who Calder is, someone who understands the calling to save lives regardless of their size or species.

But first he'll be furious.

Volcanic.

The kind of Alpha rage that stems from terror rather than anger, from the knowledge that someone he cares about deliberately endangered themselves and he wasn't there to prevent it.

Better as an in-person conversation.

Because Calder Hayes is an overthinker, spinning worst-case scenarios from insufficient data until he's constructed entire catastrophes from fragments of information. At least face-to-face I can provide context, show him I'm relatively intact, prevent him from imagining injuries far worse than reality.

The golden retriever barks—sharp, happy sound that pulls my attention from the phone. He's settled on my lap despite his considerable size, tail wagging with enough enthusiasm to create a breeze, tongue lolling in that universal expression of canine contentment.

"You're a good distraction," I tell him, scratching behind both ears simultaneously because he deserves spoiling after his ordeal. "Keeping me from having to explain to an overprotective Alpha why I keep finding new ways to nearly die."

His tail wags harder, clearly interpreting my words as praise regardless of their actual content.

The door opens without warning—no knock, no preliminary sounds, just sudden intrusion that makes the retriever's ears perk forward with interest rather than alarm.

"Now happy boy, don't go waking up our heroic Omega here."

The voice precedes its owner—warm, rich with humor, carrying notes of maple syrup and roasted chestnuts that hit my olfactory system like a comforting embrace. The scent follows immediately, flooding the small room with sweetness that makes my head swim despite the IV fluids currently combating my dehydration.

Alpha.

My instincts catalog the designation automatically, but there's something different about this particular Alpha's presence. Something that lacks the aggressive posturing I've learned to expect from his designation, especially in fire department settings where everyone's constantly measuring their dominance against colleagues.

He's massive—easily 6'4" with the kind of build that suggests he could bench press small vehicles without breaking a sweat. Broad shoulders strain against his Station Fahrenheit t-shirt, arms corded with muscle that speaks of physical labor rather than gym cultivation.

But it's his face that catches me completely off guard.

Warm brown eyes crinkle at the corners with genuine amusement, his smile transforming his entire expression from potentially intimidating to absolutely welcoming. There's nothing calculated about it, nothing performed—just authentic pleasure at finding me conscious.

Teddy bear.

The comparison arrives unbidden but undeniably accurate. Despite his size and obvious strength, everything about his demeanor radiates approachability, the kind of safe warmth that makes small children and nervous animals immediately trust him.

His eyes meet mine, that smile widening as he registers my consciousness.

"Nevermind. Guess your savior is awake."

"Hello," I manage, returning his smile despite the rasp in my voice. My gaze tracks around the room again—medical equipment, pristine walls, the lingering scent of new construction mixed with his maple-sweet presence. "I've been a menace, haven't I?"

The laugh that erupts from him is pure joy, unrestrained and infectious, filling the small space with sound that makes my chest feel lighter despite the ache of healing burns.

"Well," he says, moving further into the room with the kind of careful grace large men develop when they're constantly aware of their size in small spaces. "Menace in saving kittens, that lovely pup on your lap, and driving our Alpha pack leader mad could be labeled as menacing."

Pack leader.

The phrase registers with significance I'm too fuzzy to fully process, but the implication is clear—whoever's in charge here has apparently been affected by my unexpected arrival.

Aidric.