Page 67 of My Wild Pet
Cortisol: 600% above baseline
Adrenaline: nearing maximum tolerance
Shock Index: borderline, verging on collapse
A grim realization settles over me as I take in these readings.
The medical drones whisk her away and Ember dashes after them.
I follow as my mind races through contingency plans. If she can’t pull through, if she’s too injured to compete—No, that’s not going to happen. Ash doesn’t give up and she’s strong.
When I arrive in the medical center, Ash is surrounded by the doctor and his assistants. Her readouts show erratic vitals.
Ember stands in the periphery watching everything, his own collar flashing red, but not from injury. When our eyes meet, I half expect him to charge. But he doesn’t. Instead, he glares in silence, barely holding back tears.
It’s not his connection to Ash that’s the problem. It’s hers to him.I realize as I watch the scene before me.
The doctor mutters something about “internal bleeding” and “hairline fractures.” Another medic injects a coagulant, while a third stabilizes her spine. For a brief moment, I fear this might slip beyond their ability to repair, but then the monitor shows a stabilizing heartbeat.
I put my hand on Ember’s shoulder. “I need to see you succeed,” I say softly. “Both of you.” My voice is calm, but eachword carries undeniable seriousness that I know reaches him. “Her failing to keep up, your failing to protect her… all of it stems from a lack of true partnership. Blame me if you want, but unless you two become one, accidents like this will only continue as the obstacle course becomes more difficult.”
The doctor interrupts us, “She’s stable and will make a full recovery, but we’ll need to keep her sedated for at least a day.”
I tilt my head in acknowledgment, then shift my focus back to Ember. “When she’s recovered, you’ll return to training. She must learn to trust you.”
He doesn’t reply, simply turning his back on me to stand vigil at Ash’s bedside. The medical attendants begin to move her to a recovery pod, and then the hum of machinery encompasses the room. The faint beeping of her heart rate monitor mirrors the tension in the room.
I linger for a few minutes and look at Ash through the window of the medical pod.I could have lost her.
Kaelin comes up behind me taking in the scene. The medics have dimmed the lights around her, creating a faint halo against her pale skin.
“Should I take Ember away? I don’t know if it’s good for him to see this,” Kaelin says.
“Let him stay a little longer.”
“I watched the video of what happened. Once she missed that first time, they would have had to move very fast to not have had the whole platform turn.”
I nod. Replaying the whole thing in my mind.Am I pushing her too hard?
As if reading my mind, Kaelin says, “You’ve grown very attached to Wild One.” He uses her old name when he wants to point out that she’s just a pet. A human I bought. This isn’t the first time he’s noticed that I look at Ash differently.
“She is a pet, no more.”
Kaelin arches an eyebrow, unconvinced. “You treat her even better than you do Mags.”
I glare at him until he looks away, acknowledging my unspoken command to drop the subject. But his question refuses to be silenced.Do I treat Ash like she’s more than my pet?
I exhale, forcing my expression into composure. Whether Kaelin is correct or not, I can’t allow sentiment to derail our goal.
Yes, the course was difficult, but nothing beyond what they’ll face in the Championship. If Ash can’t manage this level, perhaps Ember needs to learn how to guide her more effectively.
CHAPTER 35
Briar
I hear the faint beeping of monitors before I open my eyes. My mind feels foggy, but slowly I begin to remember the accident. The moment my fingers slipped from Gabriel’s grasp. I feel like I’m falling again in bed remembering it and I hold my hands around myself to make the memory stop. But I’ll never forget the look on his face. Or my fear in that moment.
I thought I was going to die.But clearly I didn’t.
