Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Hayden
We don’t get a ton of true emergency calls; our town is pretty quiet for the most part. So when dispatch informs us of an omega who fell down a set of concrete stairs and knocked herself out, we jump to it.
“Fuck,” Chris says. “This could be bad.”
He’s a paramedic and an alpha, like me, and we’ve worked together for years now. I hop into the driver’s seat, only waiting a moment for him to close himself in the back. Then I flick on the siren and we’re flying through the streets.
Dispatch fills us in with reports of blood and twisted limbs, stating the omega hasn’t regained consciousness, but is reportedly breathing fine.
My heart pounds and the blood whooshes in my ears.
Breathing fine and steady pulse are good signs, but there could be internal bleeding or worse, especially if she’s unconscious.
I make it there in record time, and Chris shoots a sideways look at me.
Normally I’m calm and collected under pressure, as you have to be if you’re going to make it as a first responder.
I have no idea why this call is hitting me, but my gut is telling me to go.
So I ignore his concerned glances, pull up to the curb, and leap out.
I grab the emergency bag while leaving him to get the gurney, and I stride over to where an Asian man is kneeling over the omega, holding her hand and stroking the hair from her face.
“Do you know her name?” I snap a pair of gloves on and reach out to check her airway, breathing, circulation, and alertness, glancing up when the man doesn’t immediately answer.
He looks tortured, distraught, and I wonder at their relationship. Which is entirely unlike me, extremely unprofessional, and does not matter at all right now.
“Siobhan. Her name’s Siobhan.”
A pretty name. One that slots into my brain like it’s supposed to be there. I immediately call her name, but she doesn’t respond, as expected. Neither does she react when I check her other responses.
“Stable but unresponsive,” I call to Chris, then pull out gauze for her head wound.
“I was a step too far away to catch her. I tried, but it all happened so fast.”
A flare of anger at the beta for not preventing this, for not protecting her, surprises me.
My emotions are all over the place today, and now is not the time for it.
I clench my jaw and refocus, noticing the beta’s breathing is speeding up.
I jerk my chin at him while making eye contact with Chris to take care of it.
I can’t get myself to step away from the hurt omega; she needs me.
“Hey,” Chris says, pulling the beta to the side. “Take a breath. You did great. Her vitals are steady, we’ll take it from here. Can I get your name and number in case we need more information?”
I turn back to the omega, taking in the blood seeping from the side of her head and her limbs laying askew.
I do a quick head-to-toe check for any other obvious trauma.
At the very least she’s going to have a sprain, maybe even a broken wrist or elbow, depending how she landed.
She’s covered in scrapes and there are already hints of bruises forming along her jaw.
She’ll need X-rays and a CT scan at minimum, but my bigger worry is her spinal cord.
I vaguely register the beta giving Chris her information while I apply a C-collar, then we slide her onto a backboard and lift her onto a stretcher, which I wheel towards the ambulance.
We get her loaded into the back and the beta runs up, asking to come with us.
“No,” I bark, startling both the beta and Chris.
They gape at me, but I climb into the back with Siobhan and start hooking her up to the monitor.
Chris steps forward as though to help me down, as he’s normally the one riding in back with patients while I prefer to drive, but this time I shock all three of us when a growl ricochets up my chest.
He steps back with both hands raised, and I take a steadying breath, then shake my head. Chris gives me a look full of concern, but he closes the door and steps around to the front.
The sound of the back door closing rouses her, and I let out a breath of relief I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
She blinks up at me, and I’m frozen in place by the gorgeous blue depths of her eyes.
My heart skips a beat, and my chest constricts.
It feels like I’m falling, like I no longer orbit around the sun, but the universe itself is reshaping to orbit around her.
And then I’m snapped back into reality when her scent spikes with fear, overpowering the coppery tang of blood.
“It’s alright,” I say, reaching out to take her hand in mine, careful not to bump any of the sensors. “You’re in an ambulance. You tripped and knocked yourself out, but your vitals are good.”
She stares at me, eyes wide and confused, her scent so fear-soaked that the bitter spice of it makes my nose itch. Her heart rate is high, and her breathing shallow. She’s on the verge of panic.
“You’re okay.” I try to keep my voice steady and calm, low and soothing, and her eyes latch onto mine. I nod slowly and gently squeeze her hand. “Take a deep breath for me. In slow… And out.”
She follows my direction, and I take a few deep breaths with her until most of the tension leaks from her body.
“Good girl,” I murmur.
Her heart rate immediately spikes, but before I can say anything else, it settles again, more slow and steady than it has been yet. Siobhan’s eyes widen as she glances at the monitor screen and then stares at me, her lips popping open in surprise.
“Good to know, little omega,” I say, offering her a smile while satisfaction thrums through me.
At that, her earthy perfume swirls into the air around us.
It’s no longer steeped in fear. No, now it’s mouth-watering clove and cardamom, sweet and warm with a barely-there spicy undertone.
I swallow hard and force myself to stay seated, not to invade her space or lean forward to suck in more of that delectable scent.
My purr kicks up in my chest, and her heart rate and breathing settle into a steady, resting range. I swallow hard, clenching every ounce of control I have around my alpha instincts to scoop her up and protect her. That isn’t what she needs right now, but it’s what my alpha desperately wants.
It takes all the willpower I have to talk her calmly through what happened and what comes next as we drive to the hospital.
Her heart rate bumps up again when we unload her and walk into triage.
Chris rattles off her information, but I’m barely listening, all of my focus on the omega in front of me.
Being taken from me. She swallows a whine as the stretcher is pulled away and she’s assigned to a trauma room, but I still catch the barest hint of it.
I’m more tuned into everything about her than I have been for any other patient, but I cannot act on this right now.
I clench my hand on the door, holding myself back. Forcing my feet not to leap after her. I can’t. We only just met, and I wouldn’t be allowed to stay with her anyway.
Plus, I’m still on call.
Never before have I detested that this job requires me to wear scent dampeners, but today that fact makes me furious. She might not know it yet, but I just found my scent-match, and I’m not about to let her slip through my fingers.