Chapter 6 Winnie
Winnie
A slow, steady beeping sound wakes me. The smell of antiseptic and scent-neutralizers fills my senses.
The second thing I notice is a weight at my side and a wet, snuffling nose under my palm.
The third thing is the sound of shouting from somewhere nearby, slowly coming into focus. The last thing I remember is the Sheriff holding me in his strong arms, making me feel safe and warm through all the pain I’d been feeling—the pain that’s now mostly gone.
I risk cracking an eye open and immediately regret it. The fluorescent lights above me assault my senses, and the low-grade headache I’d been nursing flares into a full-blown migraine.
I groan and turn my head away. Deputy snuffles up my side until his nose is just under my chin. The angry voices quiet.
“Winnie, Sweetheart. You’re at the hospital.” The gruff voice sounds like the Sheriff’s—but it can’t be, can it? He only ever calls me Miss Heart, never by my first name.
Except… he did. Just before everything went dark.
I open my eyes again to find Corbin sitting next to my bed, deep concern marring his ruggedly handsome features. I open my mouth to assure him I’m okay but stop—realizing for the first time that we’re not alone.
Besides Deputies large grey eyes looking at me, another alpha stands further back in the room, broad shoulders stretching a cotton tee over dark biceps. Close cropped, black hair and brown, sharp eyes. He’s probably five-ish years older than me.
Because of the medical grade scent-neutralizers in the air, I shouldn’t be able to scent them at all. But Sheriff Corbin still carries the faint traces of cedar and leather I always catch hints of, and I notice something else from the other alpha. Unfamiliar but sharp and magnetic.
Sheriff Corbin sits in the chair next to my bed. “How’re you feeling?”
“Better,” I croak. My voice sounds raspy and sleep-thick even to my own ears.
The door opens, and my heart drops.
The alpha from the club—the one who bit me—walks in.
In the club, I’d only seen flashes of the man beneath the alpha haze.
He’s younger than Corbin, and the other alpha—probably my age.
His brown hair falls around his ears. He’s more compact than the others, but just as solid.
His green eyes meet mine, and the regret and self-loathing that surge through the bond snarl together with my own misery, impossible to separate.
No one speaks until the obvious occurs to me. “How did you find me?” I ask.
Sheriff Corbin, of all people, shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “I called them.” His eyes meet mine, and there’s something there—regret? Worry? I can’t tell.
“I don’t understand. How did you know who to call? How did you even have their number?” I try to keep my tone even, but some of the hurt leaks through. Corbin’s face tightens.
“When I came to your house, your scent had melded with the bite. I knew whose scent it was,” he explains. Or tries to. I’m not sure I understand.. But his scent pushing through the hospital’s neutralizers and him recognizing the scent of the man who bit me… those add up to something.
Scent sensitivity.
It’s the only explanation for what happened at the club.
After sitting on my living-room floor for hours once I got home, having nothing to do but think, I realized—belatedly—that the alpha from the club, the one now standing in my hospital doorway, can only be my mate.
It’s the only thing that explains both of our sudden, visceral reactions to each other.
But… why can I scent Corbin through scent neutralizers too? Only mates can still scent each other through good scent neutralizers.
Corbin sees me putting the pieces together and sighs. “Because I used to be their alpha. Their pack’s dominant alpha,” he says, gesturing to the two other alphas in the room.
My mind feels blank. Hollow. Because if he’s part of my biters pack, then he’s my mate too. If I’m scent-sensitive to one member, I’m scent-sensitive to the whole pack.
He’s still saying something, but I can’t hear him over the ringing in my ears. He knew. He knew I was his mate the entire time. There’s no way he couldn’t. I never wore scent neutralizers. He would have realized right away. And he never said anything.
I turn my head toward the opposite wall.
“I want to be alone.” I barely whisper the words, but Corbin stops talking. Deputy whines.
Movement tells me the Sheriff’s gotten up.
I hear him call to Deputy. Deputy waits a beat before I feel his weight lift away as he jumps down from the hospital bed.
Dogs likely aren't even allowed in the hospital.
He probably got Deputy through just by being the Sheriff.
He has to take him home, and I almost stop him from leaving just for that…
but I can't bring myself to move. I hear heated, low whispers before a door opens and closes.
When I look again, the room is empty except for a note that sits on the bedside table. I pick up the crumpled paper. It smells faintly of leather and citrus.
It reads:
I’m Zeke. I’m so sorry this all happened this way. I’ll be close if you need me.
It ends with a number.
I curl the note to my chest, tuck my knees up, and cry deep heavy sobs until sleep takes me back under..