9. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
Halley
The medic’s hands are cold against my skin. He runs his fingers over my ribs to my lower back, searching for a wound that isn’t there. Not even a scar.
As he checks my blood pressure once again, I can feel the medic shaking under the heavy scrutiny of my Pack. The strap expands and squeezes my bicep, the machine whirring before deflating with a hiss.
"There’s nothing wrong with her," he mutters, frowning at his chart like it's lying to him. "Her vitals are steady. There is no sign of trauma. She’s… perfectly healthy."
"For a dead girl," Blaze blurts.
I choke on a laugh at his bluntness but quickly swallow it.
Sure, I’m perfectly healthy now, but only a few hours ago, I bled out in Viper’s arms.
Even though I stand before my Pack, alive and breathing, they are still reeling from the shock of my death. They’re certainly not ready to laugh about it yet. Okay, maybe Blaze is, but he's always going to be a special case.
My mates are gathered in the small medic tent, crammed into every available space like a wall of restless energy.
Knox stands at attention behind me, his arms crossed in full Prime Alpha mode.
Shade hovers close enough that his body heat presses at my shoulder, ready to yank me to him at the slightest excuse.
Blaze paces back and forth in front of the entrance, his breathing ragged and hitching every time the medic touches me.
And Viper… even slouched against a post, half-drained from surviving a bout of Blood Lust that should have been his demise, his gaze burns into the medic like he’ll tear his hands off if they linger too long.
I should speak up and tell them it's okay, that the Beta is just doing his job, but I know it won’t matter. They have a right to be possessive and worried. 'Cause, you know, I'm a dead girl walking.
Last time I told them not to worry about my safety, I went and got myself killed. So I think my credibility in assessing threat levels is ruined for all eternity.
"You done?" Knox clips at the medic, who is holding my wrist, checking my pulse for the fourth time as though he expects me to drop dead again at any moment. Who knows, maybe I will. It's not like any of us know why my heart is beating when by all the laws of nature it shouldn't.
The medic looks up in alarm at Knox's hard tone and swallows hard. "Uh, yes?"
"Then stop touching our Omega," Knox growls.
The medic squeaks, going pale as parchment, before escaping into the corner of the tent.
"It's fine," I try to interject and reassure, but Knox only growls louder.
Shade rips off the blood pressure band before he gently pulls me off the examination table. His grip trembles.
"Let's go."
Knox swoops in and scoops me into his arms, moving out into the early dawn chill. I curl my fingers into his shirt and inhale his ink and spice scent deeply.
Knox doesn’t slow until the medic tent is far behind us. His grip is tight, his chest heaving against my cheek as if he’s afraid I’ll slip through his arms and vanish.
"Knox," I murmur, brushing my fingers against his collarbone. "You don’t have to carry me. I can walk on my own. My legs aren't shaking anymore."
"Not happening." His arms lock tighter. "I'm not letting you go. Ever."
The others close in around us as we move through the camp. Blaze strides at Knox’s side, every inch of him vibrating with barely leashed intensity. His eyes dare anyone to look too long at me. A pair of soldiers glance our way, and he bares his teeth in a silent snarl that sends them scurrying.
Shade lingers at my other side, his shoulder brushing mine every few steps, steady and silent. He doesn’t have to say anything because his presence cages me as surely as Knox’s arms.
Viper trails behind, slower, weaker, but I can feel his fixated attention on me even when I can’t see him. The golden strands of our bond are taut, like he’s grasping and holding me tight from a distance.
Around us, camp life stirs. Voices rise from the mess hall, boots crunch over frost, and laughter drifts through the camp like it belongs to another world. I died, I came back, and still the sun rises.
"Almost there," Shade murmurs, his hand brushing the small of my back.
We slip into the Pack’s tent, the canvas flap falling shut behind us, muffling the outside world. The silence inside is suffocating, charged with everything we haven’t said. Because what can I say?
I'm sorry I got myself killed?
Sorry I manipulated your fear of my leaving and desire to see me happy to put myself into a dangerous situation because of my own selfish grasp for independence?
It feels so weak and empty. My mistakes were fatal, and the only reason I have the opportunity to apologize is because of a weird twist of fate.
Knox sets me down on my feet reluctantly, his hands lingering on my waist as if testing that I’m solid.
Blaze begins to pace again.
"This is another lie," he whispers to himself, eyes glassy and unfocused. "Another hallucination. She’s not really here—"
Shade is there in an instant, pulling Blaze into him before he shatters right before our eyes. His hands come up, framing Blaze’s face, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. His voice is low but firm, carrying the weight of authority.
My stomach twists and flips. I did this to him.
"It’s real," Shade says, brown eyes boring into pale ones. "Look at me. Breathe. She’s here, and I won’t let you slip again, brother. I failed you before. I let you go into the darkness, but I swear to you I won't let you go again. Never again. You're going to stay with us and feel only relief."
Blaze gasps like he’s been dragged up from deep water. His fingers clutch at Shade’s wrists, shaking.
"Her light left," he chokes out. "I don’t know how to stop feeling it—"
Shade presses his forehead to Blaze’s, his voice a low rumble. "Then look at her. Feel the bond in your chest." He tips Blaze’s chin toward me, still holding him steady, and suddenly both sets of intense eyes are on me. "She came back. Her light is here now, isn't it? Can you feel it?"
Blaze’s wild eyes flick to me, desperate, searching. His grip on Shade tightens.
I take a small step closer, my own hands rising instinctively. "Blaze. Blaise." My voice is still croaking and rough, and I wince at how frail I sound. "I’m here. Touch me, I'm really here."
He reaches out with a shaking hand, and I meet him halfway, sliding my fingers into his. His palm is damp, trembling, but he clings to me like a lifeline.
"That’s it," Shade says, his eyes flicking to me in silent thanks. "She’s right here. We all are, and we need you to stay with us. We can't be a Pack without you in it."
Blaze exhales a broken sound and steps into me, one arm curling around my waist, forehead dropping to mine. His body is still quaking, but the edge of panic dulls as he breathes me in. Shade presses one hand on the back of his neck, the other gripping his shoulder, steady as a rock.
What would we do without our Beta?
I wrap an arm around Blaze’s shoulders and rest my free hand over Shade’s, feeling his pulse under my palm. "Our Pack is together," I whisper. "That's what matters most."
Viper lumbers forward, joining our huddle and pulling me against his chest, his face buried in my hair. "I can still feel it," he whispers, voice breaking. "You going cold in my arms. I can’t…"
I hear what he can't say. The few minutes I thought we'd lost him to Blood Lust hurt me to my very soul, and the agony of seeing him die would have broken me into a thousand pieces. Even though I'm alive, putting the splintered pieces of Viper back together will take time.
I turn my face and nuzzle into him. He plants a kiss on my cheek, and it drags with his exhaustion.
"Why don't you lay down, Viper? Just for a bit. I'll be with you the whole time, I'm not going anywhere," I promise and pull away from the cuddle to steer him toward the beds of our temporary bunkhouse.
He looks at me like I'm foolish for even suggesting he sleep, but he can't fight the pure fatigue Blood Lust has left him with. He has to rest.
The cot gives an almighty groan as it takes the full weight of my giant Alpha.
"Just don't… don't leave, pretty girl," he slurs, struggling to keep his eyes open for one moment longer before his eyes flutter shut, his body goes limp, and soft, rumbling snores follow.
I pull the blanket up to his chin and brush my fingers over his cheek. My strong-willed, sweet Alpha.
I straighten and almost flinch as I notice Knox prowling behind me, restless, his red eyes flashing as he works himself up.
He wants to say something, and it's about to burst out of him in classic Knox fashion.
"You disobeyed a direct order, Omega Specialist Sparks," he finally snaps. "We told you to stay safe and let Blaze handle any threats."
His fists clench at his sides, quivering with the need to do something, anything. Then he lunges forward and grabs me, hauling me against him with enough force to knock the breath from my lungs.
Knox’s hand slides under my chin, forcing my head up until I meet his eyes. They are burning and wild in a way that hurts to look at. I notice the lingering traces of his terror in the taut lines etched near his eyes.
"Don’t you dare look away from me," he growls, his voice rough and shaking with restrained fury. "Do you have any idea what it was like, watching and knowing I couldn’t stop it? That I couldn’t stop that bullet, couldn’t stop that knife?
This is what I’m trained for, Halley. Protecting you is supposed to be what I’m good at, and I couldn’t save you.
I couldn’t stop a stranger from taking the most precious thing I’ve ever had. "
His breath comes fast against my cheek. I can feel every tremor of the muscles in his arm as he keeps me pinned against him. The fury in him is not clean. It is tangled with grief and love and panic.
"I’m sorry," I whisper, but the words sound so small and feeble. I was right, saying sorry isn't enough and never will be.