Chapter 2
Leo
I notice it before the others—the flush creeping up her neck isn’t just anger or embarrassment. Her pupils are dilated, skin sheened with sweat. She’s sick, seriously sick, and Gabriel’s alpha posturing isn’t helping.
Her scent has shifted dramatically since she arrived. At first, she had that classic beta smell—clean skin with a hint of sweat from a day’s work. Simple. Uncomplicated. But now it’s sharp and wrong. There’s an acrid note that sets my teeth on edge.
I shift forward in my chair as she argues with our pack leader, ready to intervene. The beta’s spirit is admirable, but her body is betraying her. With each passing minute, that acrid smell grows stronger. This isn’t right.
“The smart play,” she slurs, pushing back from the table, “is to tell you exactly where you can shove your generush—gene—”
I’m already moving when her knees buckle. Three strides and I catch her before she hits the floor. Her curves are soft against my chest as she collapses into my arms. The heat radiating from her body is alarming.
“Fuck!” Elliot jumps out of his chair and rushes to my side. He presses a palm to her forehead. He’s not that kind of doctor, but his concern is evident. “She’s burning up. Call an ambulance. Now!”
The dining room erupts into controlled chaos. Servants scatter to do Gabriel’s bidding as he barks orders. His face masks any concern with efficiency. “Get her to the east wing guest room.”
“Dr. Hilliard is quicker than EMTs,” Tanner says, whipping out his phone. “She’s right next door.”
A surge of protectiveness hits as I lift Kimmie, one of my arms behind her back and the other behind her knees. I tighten my grip as I follow Elliot down the hall. Her breathing is shallow, rapid, and her body is completely limp.
“This is your fault, you know.” Tanner’s voice carries from behind us as he berates Gabriel. “Had to do the whole intimidation routine, huh? Bet you told Ms. Peters not to mention we’d all be here.”
Gabriel’s silence is answer enough.
“Power plays are one thing, brother, but look at her. She drove across town in this heat, probably worked all day, and you ambushed her with four alphas and fucking duck à l’orange.”
“Enough,” Gabriel says. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
But he sounds uncertain. Very un-Gabriel-like.
I tune out their bickering as Elliot directs me to lay Kimmie on the bed. Her t-shirt, the one I’d found endearing, is soaked through. Strands of hair are stuck to the sweaty, flushed skin of her cheeks and forehead.
“Her pulse is racing,” Elliot mutters, fingers pressed to her wrist. “I don’t think it’s just heat exhaustion.”
I resist the urge to brush a damp strand of hair from her face. There’s something about this fierce beta that calls to me. I can tell Elliot feels it too, and probably Tanner. Even with our pack bond, Gabriel is harder to read.
I have to admit, I enjoyed the way she stood up to Gabriel. This woman understands passion. The spark of defiance in her honey colored eyes had been irresistible.
“Leo.” Elliot’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. “Get some ice packs from the kitchen. We need to bring her temperature down.”
I nod but hesitate at the door. Her body is so still on the bed. The thought of her being ill makes something primitive rear up in my chest.
“She’ll be okay.” I don’t know if Elliot’s comforting me or himself. “Go get the ice.”