Page 40

"Great." He's already heading for the door, tossing the words back over his shoulder. "I'll tell your new doctor to put the orders in. Either way, you're not going through a heat four weeks after major abdominal surgery and a concussion."

I squeeze Finn’s fingers again. He squeezes mine back.

For a second the room is quiet except for the steady whirring of machines. I look around at all of them. Three massive alphas taking up every inch of space in my hospital room and another in the hall. The sheer absurdity of the situation hits me.

“What now?” I ask. “It’s not every day an omega wakes up to find four hot alphas staring at her. You should have at least let me brush my hair first.”

Leith lets out a low, surprised chuckle behind Finn. It’s small, but it warms something in my chest. Finn, on the other hand, looks a little sad. Like he’s already bracing for something. I squeeze his fingers again, tighter this time, and his expression softens.

Piers leans forward slightly, calm and commanding. “Once you’re discharged, you’ll come home with us, sunshine. It’s the safest option.”

I blink. My gaze darts to Finn and Leith. They aren’t my scent matches. Not technically. Shouldn’t I figure out where I stand with them before I move in with the whole pack? It would be easier if everything lined up perfectly, but life doesn’t work like that. We all need to tread carefully here.

“I… don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I say. “Finn and Leith and I— We should probably figure out where we stand before I… move in.”

Leith’s words are quiet but final. “Absolutely not. You’re coming home with us. Your attacker is still out there. You need to be kept safe.”

Finn nods, squeezing my hand again. “Besides, you’ll need someone to take care of you while you heal. We can do that.”

Part of me sags with relief. They want me there. At least it sounds like they do. But another, louder part wonders if they’re only saying it because they feel obligated now that scent matches are involved.

Piers doesn’t hesitate. “You’ll come home with us. It’s non-negotiable.”

The alpha tone in his voice makes me bristle instantly. Pain flares sharp and hot through my side at the movement, and I suck in a breath. Ow. Fuck.

Finn jumps in before I can snap back. “You’ll be here a few more days anyway. You have time to think about it.”

Piers opens his mouth, clearly ready to argue, but both Finn and Leith give him a look. To his credit, he closes it again, though his jaw stays tight.

No sooner does the tension settle than Beck walks back in with a beta nurse right behind him. “Alright,” he says, all business but with a small smile. “Before we push the suppressant through your IV, we need some information for your chart.”

The nurse takes one look at the four huge alphas crowding the room and then at me. She clears her throat. “Would you like some privacy for this part?”

I seize the opening immediately. “Yes. Everyone out, please.”

Beck’s face does this hilarious kicked-puppy thing. “But I’m a doctor.”

I laugh before I can stop myself. Pain explodes through my torso again. “Fuck,” I hiss, hand going automatically to the worst point of the pain. “You’re still a doctor who needs to leave,” I say when I finally catch my breath.

Piers looks like he wants to argue. Leith gives one firm nod and starts herding the others toward the door. Finn lingers the longest, thumb brushing over my knuckles once before he finally lets go.

The second the door clicks shut behind them, I sag back against the pillows. Relief. I can finally breathe. The overwhelming wave of alpha scent and intensity eases, and my shoulders drop.

The room feels calmer. For about ten seconds. Then the quiet settles in and I realize how empty it feels without them. There’s an ache in my chest that has nothing to do with my injuries. The absence of their scents suddenly feels wrong. Like I’m missing pieces I didn’t even know I needed. It’s funny, really, how quickly that happened.

I stare at the ceiling, heart still racing even though they’re gone. I can’t breathe when they’re all in the room. But I’m not sure I can breathe without them, either.

twenty-one

Piers

It took a few discreet calls and a sizable donation for the hospital to arrange a waiting area for our pack. Two small couches and a low table wedged into the end of the hallway right outside Cammie’s room make it barely worthy of the name. It allows for no privacy, and it’s uncomfortable as hell. It’s also inconvenient for every nurse and doctor who needs to get into Cammie’s room. But it allows us to respect her wishes without straying from her door.

I’ve been here for hours. We all have. Dawn is starting to bleed through the window. I’m exhausted, bone-deep tired in a way that has nothing to do with sleep and everything to do with the closed door ten feet away. Other than Finn, Cammie hasn’t let us back in since she asked the nurse for privacy last night.

I growl low in my throat as another nurse hurries past, clutching a chart to her chest. She flinches but doesn’t slow down. Across from me, Beck is on his fourth coffee, pacing the narrow strip of tile like his body will explode if he slows down for a minute. His messy blond hair is wild, scrubs wrinkled, eyes too bright.

“She didn’t reject us,” he says for the third time in twenty minutes. “She only wanted all you motherfuckers out. Kicked me out too. It was so she didn’t show favorites. Smart girl. Fair.”