Chapter Seven
O ver the space of a few hours, the screaming began to subside, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. But it wasn’t a relief. More like an unsettling void. I wasn’t sure if the silence meant we were getting things under control or if it was the calm before the storm.
I was so focused on keeping steady pressure on the next patient's wound that I didn't notice the news van until it was nearly upon us. Their logo was emblazoned on the side, an all-seeing eye that glared back at me like an accusation. My breath seized in my lungs, my world narrowing to that single, terrifying image.
They couldn't be here. They couldn't see me. If my face were broadcast across the city, across the country...
The van screeched to a halt at the edge of our makeshift triage area, and three reporters jumped out, wielding microphones and cameras like weapons. They spread out among the wounded with predatory intent, hungry for blood and tears to be splashed across the evening news.
A wave of icy dread crashed over me. "No," I whispered, shrinking back. My hands started to shake, and I stood, the gauze slipping through my fingers. The girl at my feet moaned, but the sound was distant, muffled by the roar of panic rising in my ears.
I had to run. Had to hide, before they saw me, before they captured my face and beamed it out for all the world, and my past, to see. I cast a frantic glance towards the alleyways and ruined buildings, plotting my escape. I'd have to leave the injured, leave the alphas, but what choice did I have? Survival was and always had been my only option.
"Summer?" Blake's concerned voice cut through my spiraling terror. His brow furrowed as he took in my ashen face, my trembling hands. "What's wrong?"
I shook my head, words lodged in my throat like shards of glass. How could I explain the depths of my fear, the scars that had never healed? I'd buried my past so deep, and let it calcify into armor around my fractured heart. To speak of it now, to expose those secrets, terrified me.
Blake's gaze flickered to the reporters, understanding dawning in his eyes. He straightened to his full, imposing height, squaring his shoulders.
As he strode over, his every step radiating a warning, their cameras swiveled towards us, capturing the moment as I worked in the field. My heart skipped a beat as I noticed the attention, the lights, and the microphones. Panic clawed at my chest.
I turned my face away, my heart hammering in my ears. What if the pack that had slaughtered my parents saw me?
Blake’s voice cut through my panic, calm but firm. “Move along,” he said to the reporters, his tone deep and authoritative.
The lead reporter, a woman with perfectly styled hair and a shark's smile, stepped forward with a microphone brandished like a sword. "The public has a right to know what's happening here," she challenged, her tone venomous. "Surely you won't deny us access to the brave survivors of this tragedy?"
Blake's growl was audible even over the dance of pain and chaos. "What these people need is medical attention and privacy, not to be gawked at like exhibits in a zoo. Leave. Before I have you removed."
The crew hesitated for a moment, but Blake’s commanding presence was enough to make them back off.
The reporter's eyes narrowed. Then, with a huff of offended dignity, she spun on her heel, motioning for her crew to retreat. They slunk back to their van, disgruntled but unwilling to challenge any further.
I sagged with relief as the van peeled away, the cloying scent of hairspray and ambition fading in its wake. My knees buckled, exhaustion and emotion taking their toll, but before I could crumple, muscular arms caught me, held me steady.
"Easy," Blake murmured, his breath warm against my temple. "I've got you."
He guided me to a chair, all that remained of a coffee shop. I sat down, hunched forward, elbows braced on knees, struggling to slow my ragged breathing. Blake crouched before me, his presence solid and grounding.
"Do you want to tell me what that was about?" he asked softly, no hint of demand or judgment in his voice.
I shook my head, a jerky, skittish motion. The words crowded my throat, longing for release, but old habits held them fast.
"I can't," I whispered, my voice cracking on the final syllable. "Please... don't ask me to."
Blake's eyes searched mine, stormy blue and fathomless. For a breathless moment, I thought he might push, might wield his alpha authority like a battering ram against my fracturing defenses. But then he nodded.
"Okay," he whispered, as if soothing a wounded animal. "You don't have to tell me. But Summer... you're safe here. With us. I swear it."
My gaze sought out Anders and Zach, still working among the rubble and ruin. Anders cradled an infant with infinite tenderness as he triaged her injuries; Zach lifted a fallen beam with a roar of effort, freeing the battered survivor beneath.
"I want to believe you," I admitted, my voice a thready whisper. "But it's... It’s hard for me. To trust. To not run."
Blake's hand twitched forward, as if longing to offer comfort, but he held himself back. Respecting my space, my boundaries, even as his every instinct screamed to bundle me close, to shield me with his own body and scent.
"You don't have to decide right now," he assured me. "There's no timeline on trust. But we're here Summer. We're not going anywhere. Lean on us. Let us help. That's all I ask."
I frowned, thoughts niggling at my mind. “But... why?”
He looked into my eyes and smiled. “Because you’re mine, Summer Rayne, since the moment I found you under that rubble, since the moment I heard your cry for help.” He took my hand. “And since the moment your tantalizing scent of cotton candy wrapped around me, I knew. You’re mine.”
“Yours?” I shuddered, both the fear and excitement all wrapped up in one.
“Ours,” Anders said as he walked over with Zach.
“Well, shit.”
Swearing at my alphas wasn’t what I thought I’d say when I met my scent-matched pack. But it was the only word that would escape my lips at that moment. Blake’s expression though... if I could laugh without causing myself pain, I’d be howling right now. Zach beat me to it. In fact, he was still chuckling away to himself, all while pulling out dead bodies from under the rubble. It made him look insane. But I knew the truth when their scents coiled with my own, dancing in the darkness. I knew then we were meant to be. The problem was my past. The turmoil that coated my memories, and the agonizing truth that I could never be free of it. And now, my face had been broadcast all over the media, I was sure that the truth would follow me home soon enough.
THE DARKNESS OF THE day wrapped itself around me. I still couldn't see due to all the dust and debris. The broken streets were still littered with bodies, some breathing, some not.
Blake, Anders, and Zach continued helping with the relief effort after their declaration to me. On occasion, Blake asked me to bandage or dress a wound. But right now, I was sat nursing my leg and taking a much needed break to catch my breath.
Looking out into the ashen street, a familiar figure came into view. Her wild hair, her deep blue eyes, and that smile that sunk relief into the pits of my stomach. Maddie! She ran over, almost tripping over a fallen lamp post.
“Oh, my God, honey, you made it!” she gasped, bending down and hugging me. I smiled, my eyes watering. “When I saw the stage, I thought you were gone!”
I squeezed her harder, gripping her clothes as salty tears cushioned my lips. She even smelled like ash and pain. Pulling back from her, I looked down, everything was intact. Damn. She was lucky. I could see she was doing the same to me. Her brow furrowed when she saw the injury to my leg.
“But what about your dancing?” she asked, tears streaming down her face. I couldn’t help but shed a few myself; the trauma of the day so far was too much.
“I've been through worse.”
Blake walked over and wiped a tear from my cheek with his thumb. “Everything alright?” he asked, looking from me to Maddie.
I nodded, wiping my face now that the tears had finally stopped. “This is Maddie, my best friend.”
He smiled and greeted her.
“Maddie, this is Blake. He saved me.”
“Aww!” she said, welling up some more. I rolled my eyes. “A real knight in shining armor!”
Blake frowned.
“Oh, he’s not one of those love,” Zach said, greeting Maddie.
Blake grabbed Zach's arm and pulled him away. “How about we leave the ladies to talk?”
Zach groaned and left with Blake to help Anders.
When they were out of earshot, Maddie said, “Looks like you’ve been busy!”
I smirked. “He’s just taking me home.”
“Oh, I bet he is!” Then her face dropped. I frowned. “But honey, you can't go home!”
“What? Why?”
She shook her head and placed her hand on my shoulder. “I'm sorry, but it's not there anymore. The entire apartment block collapsed in the earthquake.”
My jaw dropped. “But...” I took a deep breath. “But what am I going to do?”
She sighed, “I'd offer to stay with me, but as you can see, my apartment is just the same,” she said, waving to the apocalyptic street before me.
I looked around. I hadn't realized where we were. Maddie’s apartment was in the center of the city. She was lucky she hadn’t been home when it happened.
“Shit,” I said, “What are you going to do? “
“Looks like I'm moving back to my family's home.” The corners of her mouth edged downward. I nodded. “So, where will you go?”
I hadn't realized, but Zach was close by. He grinned and bounded over. “Come stay with us!” He smiled. “We've got plenty of room.”
My eyes widened as the scent of cedarwood took over my body.
“I, erm...” His scent took over my words, absorbing me into them, playing with me, teasing, taunting. It was the temptation of something more, a promise of a future, a life, free and secure.
Zach placed his arm around my shoulder. “There’s no erm about it, princess. You need a place to nest, and we need you.”
Maddie frowned. “You need her?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
He grinned. “Well, of course we do. She’s ours now.”
“I, erm...” I repeated.
Maddie placed her hands on her hips. “Doesn’t she get a say in this?” she said.
Zach’s grin grew even larger, if that was possible. “Of course she does, but I already know what her answer will be.” He turned to me, placed the tips of his fingers under my chin, and lifted it so I faced him. Bending down, he leaned forward until our lips were almost touching. His hot breath cradled my lips as I urged forward, aching for more. “You need us too, don’t you Summer?”
“I...” he leaned forward, the tip of his tongue tracing a line over my bottom lip, pushing inside ever so slightly. “Yes,” I said, chewing my bottom lip, tasting him.
He pulled back and kissed me on the cheek. “See.”
Maddie’s eyes were narrowed. “Are you sure about this Summer? They’re Alphas, honey.”
Zach’s hand flew up to his heart as though her tone had shot him right through it. I smirked, shaking my head at him. “Yes,” I coughed. “Yes, I’ll be fine with them.” Zach smiled and walked away. “I think, well, I’m sure that... that they’re my scent-matched pack,” I whispered to her. “Can you believe it!”
Her jaw dropped, and eyes widened. “What, all three of them?” she asked. I nodded. “Even him?” she pointed at Zach, who was goofing around with a young child, while Anders helped pull out the young boy’s dead mother. I nodded at her, watching Anders and Blake try to revive the young mom, to no avail. Zach pulled the boy away before he could see anything and took him to be transported with the rest of the lonesome survivors.
Anders walked towards me; sorrow absorbed into his skin. The death toll was getting to him. “Another one,” he said, sighing.
It felt like we’d been here all day. The sun was waning, letting the darkness in, and I yawned, feeling both tired and hungry. Anders sat down and patted the broken bench beside him. I joined him, but not before hugging Maddie before she left.
I had to budge up towards Anders. The cracks on the other side of the bench were threatening to give way if even the daintiest of persons sat on it, and dainty, I was not. I had muscles in all the places any ballerina would need.
I stared into the dust-ridden street, thinking of my home. Letting out a soft sigh, the weight of realization hit me harder than I expected. My tiny sanctuary was gone.
Slowly, tentatively, Anders reached out, his fingers brushing where mine rested on my knee. A spark seemed to leap between our skin. His hand curled around mine, his palm warm and inviting.
"Rest," he urged softly. "Just for a moment. I'll keep watch. I won't let anything happen to you."
I believed him. Despite every wall I'd built and every vow I'd made, I believed him. And as I sat there amid the dust and despair, my hand cradled in his like a promise, I felt the first fragile stirrings of hope unfurl in my chest.