Chapter 12 Grayson #2
Doc lets out a low whistle and continues his ministrations. He resets the bones in her hand, then her foot, and she doesn't wake. Her wolf is likely protecting her now, keeping her down to save her from the pain of re-breaking and setting bones.
As he slices through her shirt, he explains that a broken rib has punctured her lung. "You might want to step outside," he tells me, gentle but firm.
"Not a chance."
"Lune…" He pauses, carefully running his thumb over her eye socket.
"Grayson, I need to cut her open. More than once.
" He points to her ribs, blood clearly pooling beneath the skin.
Then to her eye, which needs to be drained and set.
"I can sense how volatile you and your wolf are. It is in her best interest if you—"
"I'm not leaving. Help her. Get on with it," I snap, fisting my hands at my sides.
If Orion can do this, if she can live through it, I can watch.
Doc doesn't argue again. He pulls out a scalpel and begins to cut her open.
Rib fractures first, then he repairs her collapsed lung, and when her shifter healing helps keep her stabilized, he moves on to relieve some of the fluid and pressure from her face.
A wolf's field surgery is never pretty, but she will heal.
She will heal.
I don't know how anyone survives having an omega as a mate. Were this any other wolf, even a pup, I wouldn't blink or flinch. Wolves can be brutal; we live and play hard. Injury is a part of life.
I'm suddenly extremely grateful to have Orion here with me.
Doc wraps a bandage around half her face to keep the bones in place and help the skin heal.
I don't know that much about omegas. I've only met a couple in my lifetime. Do they scar? I know they have the same long lifespans as other shifters. Why did the Moon Goddess have to make them so fucking fragile?
"Could she be one of the missing wolves?" Orion's question pulls me out of the rabbit hole I'd fallen into, and I glance up. "Andrea—"
I bare my teeth, my alpha hissing at her name even being brought up right now. I'm still so fucking angry. Orion lifts his hands in peace. "She made a good point. What was an omega doing out here all by herself? Could she have… I don't know, escaped somehow?"
Now that her bones are set and Doc is shooting pain and sleep meds designed for shifters into her veins, color returns to her cheeks, and she begins to breathe more normally.
The swelling is going down, and she's healing at last. It'll be days before she's back to normal, but it's a start.
The improvement lets me think a little more clearly.
"Did she say anything before…?" I ask, my eyes still fixed on her face.
"No. Didn't get a chance. But all the missing shifters over the last few years, they're all female, around her age. Maybe she was stolen, abducted like the rest, and she escaped. Silas was the only—"
"Fuck Silas," I snap. "He wasn't kidnapped. He's nearly a hundred and fifty years old, one of the strongest wolves I've ever known. He left. You need to accept that."
Both Doc and Orion disagree—it's an argument we've had too many times before. "Besides, we would have heard of an omega being kidnapped," I point out, just to change the subject.
"True. Especially one her age."
No way that would have gone unnoticed. Wolves may be shit at communication, but if a clan lost an omega, we'd have heard about it.
I reach out and touch the soft, bright red waves of her hair, caked with dirt and blood. A small hair tie is stuck in a tangle on one side, and I work to remove it, pulling her red locks down to their full length, way past her shoulders. Her jasmine scent washes over me.
Orion clears his throat to get my attention, but it takes a subtle jab on my shoulder to actually pull my gaze away from her.
"What am I doing with the traitors?"
"If they're still alive, lock them in the cell. I'll deal with them tomorrow." I scrub a tired hand over my face. "Or, later today, I guess."
He nods, then leans in close to the omega. He takes a deep inhale, breathing in her scent. Whispers something private, meant for her alone, and I shift uncomfortably, witnessing my second like this. He's calm and rational. Not emotional.
He presses his lips to her forehead, and we meet eyes. I silently promise to care for her in his absence. It's going to take some getting used to, because although in our shifter clan I am Lune—head Alpha—within our small family, our pack, we're equals, and both alphas.
Orion leaves to deal with the shifters. Doc moves about, gathering a bucket and warm water with a sponge, but I reach out, and he hands it over so I can take over the task of washing the dirt and blood off her pale, delicate chest, arms and face.
She's a mess. My breath catches in my throat when I discover the bite mark scars trailing along her arms.
"When will she wake?" My voice cracks, displaying a vulnerability I've never felt. Not even when my parents passed away all those years ago. Not when my twin brother disappeared.
"It depends. I must admit, it's been nearly a hundred years since I've treated an omega. But she's the same, biologically, as any of us. Her healing is just slower. I think she'll rise within a day, if a bit broken and bruised."
I nod, dragging a chair from the corner of the room to get comfortable. I don't plan on moving until she wakes.
Doc has the same idea. I can feel his curiosity burning, but he's also one of the most caring, compassionate wolves I've ever known, and the state of our clan's first omega in a century is weighing on him as well.
Hours pass. There's no staff in the clinic, though there are a few trained apprentices Doc sometimes calls in if need be.
For now, we sit and listen to our community rise for the day.
The sun is bright in the sky, shining into the small room, casting a harsh glow through the window.
The sounds of pups playing in the distance filter in, along with the barely discernible scent of the common rooms and Hilde's cafeteria food.
Distracted as he is, my wolf is always hungry, but I'll chance the hunger pangs because there's no way I'm leaving.
It turns out I don't have to, as the scent of smoked meats, eggs, and baked goods grows stronger. Orion walks in with a basket clearly packed by Hilde and unceremoniously drops it in front of me. I don't pick it up.
Doc reaches in, folds a biscuit around a piece of meat, and shoves it at me. I growl and snap my teeth, and though he flinches, he extends the food in front of my face more forcefully, and I take it, nearly swallowing it whole. I mumble an apology, making Orion chuckle.
Hours pass, leading into the early afternoon.
Doc and Orion are quietly discussing the missing shifter theory when the first signs of movement come from my mate.
My wolf and I freeze in unison, holding our breath.
Orion tenses beside me. I grip the edge of my chair, my fingertips shifting partially into claws, cracking the wood as I wait for another sign, and she groans.
I nearly collapse in relief.