Chapter 12 – ARCHER
Chapter
Twelve
ARCHER
T he observation window separates us from them like a television screen playing the world's most fucked up reality show.
I lean against the reinforced glass, watching Juniper perch on the edge of Felix's hospital bed like a petite gargoyle protecting its cathedral.
She hasn't moved in three hours. Not to eat, not to use the bathroom, not even to stretch.
Just sits there with her fingers wrapped around his wrist, monitoring his pulse like she doesn't trust the machines beeping steadily beside them.
The medical bay smells like antiseptic and lemon cleaner that burns my nostrils. But underneath it, I can still catch traces of her scent drifting through the ventilation system. Sweet flowers mixed with something wild and untamed that makes my alpha instincts want to break down the door and?—
No. Stop that shit right there.
"She's going to need food soon," Elias says from behind me, his voice clinical but edged with concern.
He's got Felix's chart in his hands, flipping through pages of medical data like they might suddenly reveal something new.
"And water. She's been running on adrenaline and fear for hours, but I can't get her to take anything. "
"Good luck getting her to leave his side," Bane mutters from his position by the door. He's been standing guard like we're expecting an army to come bursting through at any moment. Maybe we are. We still don't know who hired them or why. "She’s the most stubborn thing I’ve ever seen."
Through the glass, I watch Juniper lean down to whisper something in Felix's ear.
Her lips move in what looks like a prayer or maybe a threat.
Knowing what I've seen of her so far, could be both.
Her brown hair falls like a curtain around her face, hiding her expression, but I can see the tension in her shoulders, the way her free hand keeps drifting to where she'd normally keep a weapon.
She's terrified. And trying so fucking hard not to show it.
"We should get her something to eat," I say, already knowing how that's going to go. About as well as it went for Elias. "Maybe some water at least."
"She won't take it," Carlisle says from his sprawl in the corner chair. He's been uncharacteristically quiet since we got back, those blue eyes of his fixed on the window with an intensity that makes my skin crawl. "Not from us. We're the enemy, remember? The big bad alphas who shot her mate."
"Partner," Elias corrects automatically.
"Same difference." Carlisle waves a dismissive hand, but his gaze never leaves Juniper. "Point is, she thinks we're going to hurt him. Or her. Or both."
The way he's looking at her makes something protective flare in my chest. Carlisle's many things—brilliant, charming, completely fucking psychotic—but he's never shown this kind of focus on anyone who wasn't about to die by his hand.
This is... interest.
And that scares the shit out of me.
"So," Carlisle says, finally tearing his gaze away from the window to look at the rest of us. That too-wide smile spreads across his face like oil on water. "Is someone going to address the elephant in the room, or shall I?"
Bane's scarred jaw clenches. "Carlisle?—"
"She's our scent match." The words go off like a shotgun blast.
Elias sighs. "Obviously."
Even Bane is uncharacteristically quiet.
"All the more reason not to rush things," I mutter. "She's easily spooked."
"Rush?" Carlisle laughs, the sound sharp as broken glass. "My dear Archer, she tried to kill us. Successfully drugged me, might I add. Nearly took Bane's eye out with a chandelier. I'd say we're well past the 'taking it slow' phase."
Through the window, Juniper suddenly goes rigid.
Her head snaps up, turning to scan the room like she heard something.
Or someone. Her lips move again, but this time it's clear she's not talking to Felix.
She's having a conversation with empty air, her free hand gesturing at someone who isn't there.
"Is she..." Bane trails off, but we all know what he's asking.
"Hallucinating," Elias confirms quietly. "She keeps talking to someone who isn't in the room. Some form of psychosis, possibly schizophrenia given the auditory and visual components."
"That explains the erratic behavior," Bane says, but there's no judgment in his voice. Just assessment. "The mood swings, the sudden shifts in focus."
I watch her argue with the empty corner of the room, her face animated with frustration. Whatever she's somehow seeing through the blindfold, it's pissing her off. She makes a sharp gesture with her hand, like she's trying to shoo something away, then turns back to Felix with a protective snarl.
"We need to be careful," I say, forcing my thoughts back on track. "She's traumatized, dealing with what looks like severe mental illness, and completely dependent on someone who might not ever wake up."
"He'll wake up," Elias says with the confidence of someone who's pulled people back from worse. "The transfusion is working. His vitals are stabilizing. Give him twelve hours, maybe less."
"And then what?" Bane asks the question we're all thinking. "What do we do with them when he wakes up?"
"We can't let them go," Carlisle says immediately. "They know where our base is."
"She's blindfolded," I point out.
"You really think that matters? She's smart. She was counting turns, measuring distances. I watched her doing it." Carlisle's smile sharpens. "Besides, they were hired to kill us. Someone out there wants us dead badly enough to pay for quality. We need to know who."
"We could interrogate them," Bane suggests, but even he doesn't sound convinced. "Get answers."
"Right," I scoff. "Because torturing our scent match sounds like a spectacular fucking plan."
"No one said anything about torture," Bane says, but I can see him struggling with it. The cop in him wants answers, wants to solve the case. But the alpha in him is probably screaming the same thing mine is—protect, provide, claim.
Fucking biology.
"There's another problem," Elias says quietly, and we all turn to look at him. He's staring at Felix's chart again, frowning. "She won't let me examine him properly. Every time I try to do more than basic vital checks, she nearly takes my hand off. I could sedate her, but..."
"But that would destroy any chance of earning her trust," I finish. "She'd never forgive us."
"So we're stuck," Bane summarizes. "Can't let them go, can't interrogate them properly, can't even provide adequate medical care because our patient's guard dog won't let us near him."
Through the monitor, Juniper starts humming.
It's a children's song, something about rain and spiders, but the way she sings it makes it sound like a funeral dirge.
Her fingers trace patterns on Felix's arm, and I realize she's writing something.
Letters maybe, or numbers. Some kind of code only they understand.
"She loves him," I say, not sure why I need to voice it. "Whatever else is going on, she genuinely loves him."
"And he loves her," Elias adds. "The way he protected her, put himself between her and us even while bleeding out..."
"Then why didn't he mark her?" I challenge.
He says nothing. None of us has the answer to that question.
"There's a lot we still don't know. Which makes this whole scent match thing even more complicated," Bane says. "She's not going to abandon him for us. Even if we told her, she'd probably try to gut us with a rusty spoon."
"I'd let her," Carlisle murmurs, and we all turn to stare at him. He shrugs, unrepentant. "What? Tell me you haven't thought about it. The way she moves, the way she fights... she's perfect."
"She's traumatized," I correct sharply.
"She's a killer," Bane adds.
"She's psychotic," Elias points out. "In the clinical sense."
"Yes," Carlisle agrees cheerfully. "Perfect."
Sometimes I forget that Carlisle's not just dangerous, he’s genuinely insane. This is one of those times when he reminds me.
And fuck me, because I actually agree with him.
"We're not telling her," Bane decides, using his leader voice that brooks no argument. "Not yet. She needs time to settle, to realize we're not going to hurt them. We observe, we wait, we let her come to trust us on her own terms."
"And if she doesn't?" Carlisle asks.
"Then we deal with that when it happens." Bane's scarred jaw sets in that stubborn line that means discussion over . "For now, we lie low. No sudden moves, no revelations about scent matching, nothing that might spook her more than she already is."
"What about when he wakes up?" I ask, nodding toward Felix. "He's going to notice we're not treating him like a typical prisoner."
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Bane says. "Maybe he'll be more reasonable than she is."
Somehow, looking at the way Juniper guards him, I doubt it. Anyone who inspires that kind of loyalty isn't going to be reasonable about anything concerning her safety.
"I'll make up some food," I say, needing to do something useful. "Leave it outside the door. Maybe she'll eat if she doesn't have to interact with us."
"Good idea," Elias approves. "I'll prepare some basic medical supplies too. Bandages, antiseptic, things she can use herself if she needs to."
"I'll pull the security footage from the Rut Room," Bane says. "See if we can figure out who hired them, or at least get some leads."
"And I'll just... watch," Carlisle says, settling deeper into his chair like he's at the fucking theater. "Someone needs to monitor our little hellcat."
I want to argue, to tell him to stop being creepy, but honestly? Someone does need to keep an eye on them. And despite everything, Carlisle's probably the best suited for it. He notices things the rest of us miss, patterns and tells that might give us insight into who they really are.
Through the window, Juniper suddenly slumps forward, exhaustion finally winning over adrenaline. Her head comes to rest on Felix's chest, and I can see her shoulders shaking. Crying, maybe, or just shaking from the stress of the last few hours.
My chest aches watching her. This omega who tried to kill us, who's clearly dangerous and unstable and completely devoted to another alpha, and all I want to do is go in there and tell her everything's going to be okay. That we'll protect her, provide for her, make sure no one ever hurts her again.
But that's biology talking. Scent match hormones flooding my system, making me stupid. She doesn't need an alpha savior. She doesn't need us at all. She's made that crystal fucking clear.