Lucian stood with his back against the opposite wall, hands shoved in his pockets, his face drawn with exhaustion that wentdeeper than physical tiredness. His rosewood scent was muted, like he was too wrung out to maintain the usual strength. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his hair was disheveled from running his hands through it too many times.
“We need to talk about what happened,” Kade said, his voice low enough not to carry but holding an authority that made both Lucian and me pay attention. He stopped pacing long enough to face us both. “About what we did in that alley.”
“We killed them,” I said bluntly, seeing no point in dancing around it. “All of them. And I'd do it again in a heartbeat.”
“There was no choice,” Kade agreed, his jaw tight. “They were killing her. Another minute and—” He cut himself off, like saying the words out loud would make the possibility too real.
But we all knew how close it had been. How the knife had been buried in her abdomen, how much blood had soaked into the alley pavement, how her heartbeat had been thready and weak by the time we'd gotten her to the hospital. Another minute, maybe even thirty seconds, and we'd have been too late.
“The one who stabbed her,” Lucian said quietly, his voice carrying a sharpness I rarely heard from him. “I'm glad he's dead. I hope it hurt.”
The words were surprising coming from Lucian, who usually tempered his responses with thoughtfulness, with consideration. But there was nothing considerate about the flat certainty in his tone. Just dark satisfaction that matched what lived in my chest.
“It did,” I confirmed, remembering the way the pack member's neck had snapped under my hands. Quick, efficient, but not entirely painless. I'd made sure of that. “They all died knowing exactly why it was happening.”
Kade nodded once, accepting this. “The bodies?”
“Taken care of,” I said. The cleanup crew I'd called while we'd waited for Jasmine to get out of surgery had been thorough andprofessional. People who knew how to make problems disappear and how to keep their mouths shut about it. The alley would be spotless by now, with no evidence remaining of what had happened there. “It'll look like they left town. Skipped out on debts or warrants, or whatever. No one will look too hard for men like that.”
“Good.” Kade resumed his pacing, three steps in one direction, pivot, three steps back. “But we need to think about security in the future. They found her once. Others might try.”
“The building needs better screening,” Lucian said, pushing off from the wall. “Security at every entrance. No one gets up to the penthouse without verification.”
“Agreed,” Kade said. “And we need personal security for her when she's out. Professional bodyguards who know what they're doing.”
I nodded, though the thought of needing bodyguards felt like another failure. We should have been enough. Should have kept her safe without outside help. But my pride wasn't worth risking her life again.
Footsteps approached from the far end of the hallway, and all three of us turned toward the sound immediately. My body tensed, hands uncrossing from my chest, weight shifting to the balls of my feet in preparation to move if necessary.
A man in a white coat walked toward us, clipboard in hand, stethoscope draped around his neck. Doctor probably, here to check on Jasmine or update us on her condition. He looked young, maybe mid-thirties, with dark hair and wire-rimmed glasses that caught the fluorescent light.
Kade was moving before the man had gotten within ten feet of Jasmine's door. He intercepted him with a speed that made the doctor stop short, take a step back, clearly recognizing a threat when he saw one. Kade's hand shot out, grabbing thefront of the doctor's coat, pulling him close enough that I saw the man's eyes go wide behind his glasses.
“ID,” Kade demanded, his voice carrying an edge that promised violence if the answer wasn't satisfactory. “Now.”
The doctor's hands went up immediately, a gesture of non-aggression, and he fumbled for his hospital badge with shaking fingers. Kade snatched it from him, studying it with an intensity that would have been overkill if we weren’t exhausted from spending the last few days of worrying about our Omega.
“Dr. Samuel Chen,” Kade read aloud, comparing the photo to the face in front of him. “Chief of surgery. You operated on her?”
“Yes,” Dr. Chen said, his voice steady despite the fear I could smell coming off him. “I'm here to talk to Ms. Jasmine about her injuries and recovery. I need to update her on—”
“What kind of update?” I interrupted, pushing off the wall to stand beside Kade. The doctor was hemmed in now, surrounded by three Alphas whose combined scents probably screamed danger to his hindbrain.
“Her surgical results, her prognosis, what she can expect during recovery,” Dr. Chen said, his medical professionalism reasserting itself despite the circumstances. “I need privacy to discuss her medical information. HIPAA regulations.”
Kade's jaw worked, clearly struggling with the idea of leaving Jasmine alone with someone we didn't know, even if that someone was her doctor. His hand tightened on the white coat, and for a moment, I thought he might refuse.
“We stay outside the door,” Kade said finally, releasing the doctor but not stepping back. “You leave that door open. We're watching.”
“The door can stay open,” Dr. Chen agreed quickly. “But I still need you to give us space for the conversation. Medical privacy is legally protected.”
Lucian moved to flank the doctor's other side, completing the triangle of intimidation. “How long will this take?”
“Ten, maybe fifteen minutes,” Dr. Chen said. “Just going over results and answering questions she might have.”
Kade studied him for another long moment, then finally stepped aside. But his hand remained close to the doctor's shoulder, ready to grab again if needed. “Fifteen minutes. Then we're coming back in, whether you're done or not.”
Dr. Chen nodded, clearly eager to get away from us and complete whatever he'd come here to do. He moved toward Jasmine's door, knocked softly, then disappeared inside. True to his word, he left the door ajar, though not wide enough for us to hear clearly.
