She won’t survive the third.
That’s what they told us, the doctors and Joanne, in low, soothing voices as if it might hurt a little less that way.
They’re wrong.
They don’t know you, baby. You need to show them.
My hands wrap around the back of my neck, gripping it.
Her body jerks again.
And again.
Beside me, Max folds. I don’t look away from her as he hits the floor.
“No,” Oscar snaps. His voice has deepened, to something I almost don’t recognise. “She’s not going anywhere. Kennedy –breathe.”
A bark. Or close to.
I blink as the noise sounds. Unsure if I imagined it.
Once. A single, small beep.
And then again.
The doctor presses his fingers to Kenny’s neck, casting Oscar a wary glance at the low growl that rumbles in his chest. “We have a pulse.”
My knees lose all sense of balance as I slide down, landing heavily next to Max.
She’s still here.
Day 22 – Oscar
“Areyouawarethata member of your pack is sleeping on the floor in the hall?”
The dry words don’t make me turn away. I keep my eyes on Kenny’s face, tracing the pale blue veins across her eyelids. They don’t flicker. My response is sharp in the otherwise quiet room. “Yes.”
He’s not sleeping. He’s feigning unconsciousness. Easier than facing reality.
Behind me, Max and Jake are pretending to sleep too, their backs resting against the wall. I can feel their attention on us through barely closed lids as Kennedy’s consultant rounds the bed, a frown on his face. Abrams picks up the chart, his lips pursed. “We should talk, Oscar.”
I don’t move. “We can talk here.”
She can’t hear us. That’s what they keep saying – but if there’s even the smallest chance, I want her to be part of the discussion.
Before they lock her away again.
I wait as he pulls up a chair opposite me. “Kennedy is a highly unusual case, as you know.”
I know all too well.
Because she’s young. Because of what happened to her. “Because she was made, not born.”
Forced into becoming a feral. This was forced into her veins with seventeen bites, and hours spent fighting for her life in a meadow while we didnothing.
He hums. “And her circumstances, where your pack is concerned. Ferals don’t usually have mates. It tends to be a very isolated experience. Sadly so.”
She has us.
