Page 135 of Psycho Alphas: Part Two

“Which are bleeding the most?” Ace’s question grounded me, and I looked at them again. Some were bad, but blood wasn’t pooling around them—not like the one across her stomach. I reached for it.

“Are w-we going to a hospital?” Thistle asked as I began wrapping the wound, shoving aside hesitation at the whimper the Omega—Bambi—made as I did.

“Can’t,” I said.

“What?”

“The Ring will know.” I grabbed the next strip, hating the way Thistle jumped as Bambi shuddered with pain. “It’ll undo everything we did tonight?—”

“But—”

“Tonight wasprotection, Omega,” Ace cut in. “That includes protection for her.”

“It’s not gonna matter if she’s dead!” Moonflower spiked with anger, mixing with the desperation that saturated the space.

“I don’t think the wounds are deep,” I said. “She should be okay if we get the bleeding under control.”

Was that truth, or desperate hope?

I imagined Bella’s rage. I hadn’t felt it at the time—she could lock the bond down when she wanted to. But I knew her rage. Her hatred. Her jealousy.

This Omega wasn’t dead—but if that’s what Bella had wanted, she would be.

Thistle nodded, using her dress to wipe off Bambi’s hand. “This is Bunny,” she whispered, pushing Bunny into her fingers. “He’ll keep you safe.”

Bambi’s grip closed on the toy, but her gaze snapped back to Thistle as she shifted, reaching for Rogue, who was tearing off the next strip.

The frightened whine that sounded from her was enough to set my hairs on end. More tears tumbled down her cheeks as she fumbled for Thistle, Bunny still clutched in her hands.

“O-okay,” Thistle stammered, shifting straight back to Bambi, eyes wide. “I won’t go nowhere.”

She held on, burying her face into Thistle’s side and not letting go. Slowly, Thistle wove her fingers through her blood-matted hair, stroking it gently, eyes still lost and unsure.

As I secured one of the strips of cloth over one of the worst gashes, Ace’s phone rang. He snatched it up. “I need to talk toCypress,” he said. There was a pause, then his tone sharpened. “Now.”

Thistle spared a glance at him, then looked back down at Bambi. “Cypress is the best in the business,” she whispered. “You’ll be all patched up in no time.”

A doctor, if I had to guess. Maybe one of the ones he’d had on call with the Brotherhood. I hoped they weren’t far.

“I need you tonight,” Ace said. There was another pause, and a faint response. He snorted. “Bad luck. You’ll have to put up with me a bit longer.”

He typed out a few things after he hung up, glancing at Bambi analytically before tossing the phone at Rogue. “Need the address.”

When we arrived home, we’d barely set Bambi on the dining table off the kitchen when Cypress was buzzed in from the front gates.

The doctor looked as if she was in her late thirties, with dark skin and long box braids tied back in a high ponytail. She didn’t seem fazed by the wounds as she examined them, not even when she got to the one across Bambi’s face. Then again, I doubted a physician on call for the Brotherhood would be shocked by much.

“Can I help?” Vance strolled in, first aid kit in his fist, eyes falling on Thistle and Bambi.

I frowned. That was quick.

He spotted my confusion. “Scum—” He cut off. “R—” He winced, trying again. “This onetexted.” He nodded at Rogue without looking at him. “Said we had an Omega incoming.”

He had?

I… should have done that.

I was too slow right now. Not on top of things like I should be. My stupid pack bond felt like being trapped in a hurricanewith the windows blown wide open. It was a bleeding wound destabilising my sanity.