26. Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Six
Halley
Her tears are still wet when she reaches for the datapad, and I watch her bury the grief under work.
"Right," she says, voice rough and clipped. "Before you went into heat, I was trying to do a full post-resurrection wellness check, and then your body decided to set itself on fire and derail my entire plan."
I blink at the whiplash. "Everlyn..."
"No. Let's not… Just please." She points at the examination bed. "Sit back. Shirt up."
I almost insist that we talk about how she's feeling, but decide to give her what she wants, and get comfortable on the exam table. "I'm here when you're ready to talk about it."
"I don't have time for feelings," she mutters, already moving, gathering herself by organizing the room. She yanks open a drawer and starts pulling things out with brisk movements: a stethoscope, a wrapped probe cover, and a bottle of gel.
"I don't think feelings wait for an appropriate time."
"My stupid, inconvenient feelings will probably shut up once I can finally check you're actually okay. It's been like an itch in my brain. I need to know that your organs are where they’re supposed to be, and that you won’t drop dead from complications of… death."
"I feel fine," I say, which sounds weak even to me.
She gives me a look over her shoulder. "You also thought you were fine right before you went into heat, so your opinion is noted and discarded."
A knock raps at the infirmary door.
Everlyn does not even look up. "If that is another severed limb one of your mates has lopped off, I will hold you personally responsible."
The door opens, and Shade slips inside, breathing a little harder than usual. "Sorry. Took longer than expected to check on Knox."
He shuts the door behind him and crosses to us in three quick strides. There is dried blood at his hairline and across one cheek, like a rust-colored smear.
His eyes land on me first, scanning fast and thorough, then flick to Everlyn. "Everything okay?"
"If you need to go back, I'm okay here," I say, narrowing my eyes at his knuckles that are scuffed raw, skin freshly healed from a split over two of them.
"No, I shouldn't have left you alone in the first place," he says, vehemently shaking his head.
"She's not alone. I'm here," Everlyn says.
"Alone with no protection," he clarifies.
Everlyn just pulls out a scalpel and looks at him intently.
His throat bobs and he gives her a thin, placating smile.
"Make yourself useful and wheel over the ultrasound," she demands, gesturing to the machine behind him.
Shade glances at me, then at the machine in the corner. "She needs an ultrasound? Now?"
"Yes, now. Unless you would prefer I pencil in ‘scan resurrected Omega later’ after triage, coup prevention, and whatever fresh stupidity your Pack has caused in the meantime?"
Shade’s mouth tightens. "No, doctor."
She plugs the machine in and flicks it on. The screen hums to life. Everything in Blackgate Fortress is old, but this machine looks older than most, with scuffed casing and a fan that whines under the effort of waking up.
Everlyn starts mumbling to herself as she works. "Abdomen first. Liver, spleen, kidneys, uterus if I can get a decent window. We’ll check for fluid buildup, swelling, and anything that looks like your insides resent the fact that they came back from the dead."
Shade comes to my side and brushes his fingertips over my wrist in a quiet question.
I turn my hand and lace our fingers. His thumb strokes once across my pulse point, and our bond hums.
"Sorry," he murmurs, low, meant mostly for me. "Knox needed backup."
I look at the blood on his face, then at his hand. I do not ask, and he does not explain.
"You’re here now," I murmur back.
Everlyn glances up, catches our joined hands, and something fond flickers across her face before she schools it away. "Good. He can keep you still if you start squirming."
"I do not squirm."
She arches a brow. "You absolutely squirm."
I open my mouth to argue, then close it because she is already uncapping the gel.
She squirts a line across my lower abdomen, and I jolt.
"Cold," I hiss.
"Yes, you big baby," Everlyn says, entirely unsympathetic. She spreads it with the probe, and my muscles tense on instinct. "Relax."
The room falls quiet except for the fan inside the machine and the radiator ticking near the wall.
She angles the probe and presses a little deeper.
I suck in a breath.
Shade’s head tilts toward me immediately. "Pain?"
"Nuh uh, just a bit sore."
It's psychosomatic. I know it, and she knows it. I heal too fast for anything to still be sore, but my brain still gives signals that I should feel muscle soreness after being twisted like a pretzel for days on end.
Instead of calling me out, Everlyn snorts and plays along. "I bet you are. Seven days of—"
"Cuddling," I cut in, widening my eyes at her. I don't want the Pack to think I'm gossiping behind their backs.
She snorts. "Yeah, cuddling…"
I relax.
"And fucking. So much fucking."
"Everlyn!"
A grin tugs at her mouth, and for a few seconds, she almost looks like herself again.
Almost.
The humor helps, but it doesn’t feel real. She’s joking so she doesn’t have to look at me and remember why she almost cried.
"Would you relax?" she says. "You’re making my images distort. Besides, you were in heat. Everyone knows you were getting railed."
Heat floods my face, and Shade’s thumb keeps moving slow and steady over my wrist.
Gray and black shapes ripple across the screen, meaningless to me. Everlyn checks one image, then moves on.
"What are you seeing?" I ask, because silence is starting to make me nervous.
What if she's right, and I came back all twisted up inside? What if I'm actually on a ticking clock and I'll drop dead soon?
"A patient who needs to stop talking so I can focus."
"Everlyn."
She exhales through her nose. "I’m seeing your liver. It appears to still be a liver, which is encouraging."
Shade’s mouth twitches.
Everlyn nudges the probe lower, and the joke fades from her face.
Her brows pull together, and her left hand moves over the controls, adjusting depth and angle. The image flickers, shifts, then steadies.
I stiffen. "What?"
She doesn’t answer.
"Ev?"
Her eyes flick between the screen and the placement of the probe. She leans closer, her mouth parting slightly as if she’s forgotten how to breathe.
Then she goes still.
The room seems to narrow around the sound of the machine.
Shade straightens at my side, his thumb stopping against my wrist. "Everlyn."
"Just tell me," I say, hearing the edge in my own voice. "If something’s wrong, just tell me."
"I didn’t say something is wrong." She freezes the image, measures, saves it, and then frowns. "Stay right there."
She sets down the probe and grabs her datapad, tapping my name into the search bar with quick, jerky movements.
Hundreds of test results fill the screen. Records from Barkrood over the years, and from my time here under General Stone's endless scrutiny.
Everlyn pulls up the oldest full medical workup. The date is stamped the same day I arrived at Barkrood base and claimed sanctuary.
Shade’s fingers twitch as if he wants to snatch the datapad from Everlyn's hands so he can see what she's staring at with such intensity.
Finally, Everlyn looks up at me.
"Woah, Sparks."
Shade’s gaze cuts between us, his nostrils flared with the frustration I can feel flooding down the bond. "Everlyn, what are you seeing?"
"Just give me a moment to double-check. I want to be certain."
The Pack bond suddenly explodes into a riot of frenzied panic, and I shoot Shade an accusatory look. 'You shouldn't have called them.'
He has the audacity to not look guilty. 'No such thing as privacy in a Pack, love.'
Heavy footsteps thunder down the corridor, and I brace myself for impact.
The infirmary door bangs open so hard it rattles on its hinges, and the cold rush that follows makes my skin pebble.
Knox fills the doorway first, with Viper at his shoulder. Blaze slides in behind them, eyes wide, wild, and scanning the room like he expects to find me bleeding out on the floor.
They stop the second they see me on the exam bed, shirt lifted, gel on my stomach, Everlyn with an ultrasound probe in her hand.
"Talk," Knox bites out, voice low and lethal. His gaze flicks over me with that Alpha assessment that makes me feel both safe and exposed. "What’s wrong with her?"
Shade stays where he is, anchored to me. He still does not release my hand.
Blaze is already at my side, crouching beside me but vibrating with energy like he wants to climb onto the bed with me. "Sparkles? Are you hurt? Did the heat mess you up? Oh fuck, did we break you? I thought you were enjoying it, but maybe we went too far."
His hands hover, not touching me as though he's afraid one brush of a fingertip will cause me to shatter. He's shaking with the effort not to grab me.
Viper does not speak. He just stares at the screen and then back at me, his jaw tight as he absorbs.
I can feel the palpable fear in the bond that has torn open. They're not hiding from me anymore.
"Nobody is dying," Everlyn says, and then wafts her hand in front of her nose with a grimace. "And stop flooding the room with that awful territorial Alpha scent. You’re making my eyes water."
Before I even register that I'm doing it, an unbidden, soft calling trill slips from me and breaks the tension. I beckon all four of my mates closer, reaching for them.
"It's okay. Whatever it is, we can face it together," I say calmly. Blaze takes my other hand, squeezing it tight, while Viper and Knox place a hand on my shoulders. My trill turns into a purr because I know it's the only thing that is going to keep everyone in this room from panicking.
"Everlyn. Report. Now," Knox demands in his Prime Alpha tone.
She snaps her eyes to him and narrows them. "Do not use that tone with me, Knox. You're in my territory now, and I won't tolerate Alpha bullshit in my infirmary."
A beat of silence.
Then Knox forces his shoulders to relax, exhaling as he asks, "Yes, fine. Just tell us what you found. Please."
Her eyes lift to meet mine, her throat bobbing.
"Halley." Her voice softens. "I need you to stay calm."
My laugh comes out thin. "That’s a terrible thing to say right before telling someone something medical."
Blaze’s head jerks toward Everlyn. "What is it? Infection? Damage? Did the resurrection do something to her insides? Because I will kill it. Whatever it is, I will destroy it."
I pat his hand. Such a silly Alpha, but I'm humbled by his determination, nonetheless.
Everlyn’s left hand trembles as she sets the datapad down.
"I pulled up Halley’s earliest baseline scans," she says. "The ones from Barkrood. We did a full workup when she arrived and claimed sanctuary."
Blaze frowns like he does not understand why old files matter.
I do. My stomach twists.
Everlyn continues.
"Those scans documented significant ovarian scarring.
Extensive endometriosis. Polycystic ovary syndrome.
Uterine lining damage with significant atrophy.
Omegas have enhanced healing like Betas, but it was never fast enough to overcome the growths.
" She swallows. "The diagnosis was clear, and we confirmed what The Capital claimed: pregnancy would never be an option for Halley. She was infertile."
Blaze’s face falls, and he makes a small, wounded sound, as if my past trauma is hurting him now.
I haven't told them much about my medical history, just that I was infertile.
I didn't explain the invasive tests, nor did I tell them about the multiple surgeries to remove the endometriosis adhesions.
It's been so long that it doesn't feel like that happened to me, but to a young woman I barely remember.
Everlyn points at the grainy, black-and-white screen that I have no chance of deciphering.
"That is not what I am seeing today," she says.
The words hang.
Knox looks down at me, and I watch as his pupils dilate. "What?"
"The scarring is gone."
Viper makes a strangled sound. "Gone?"
"Gone," Everlyn repeats. "What I'm seeing today is a normal ovarian structure with active follicles. Excellent blood flow. Everything is exactly as I'd expect a healthy, young Omega to be."
I feel myself go utterly still, all my muscles tensing at once.
Healthy.
Shade’s breathing hitches, and his hands tighten on mine, then relax, then tighten again as he puts the pieces of the puzzle together and asks, "Does that mean…?"
Everlyn’s gaze flicks to my throat, staring at my bite marks and my held breath.
"It means," she says carefully, "that Halley can get pregnant. She's fertile."
My ears ring.
I stare at Everlyn’s mouth, my brain stuttering as it refuses to process the words she spoke.
Pregnant.
Fertile.
Oh, frack.