“He’s already waking up,” I said blankly.
“I’ll take you to him right now. Come with me,” the nurse replied.
“We’ll both go.” Heath appeared behind me, his scent enveloping me like a reassuring cloud. “I’m Gage’s co-mate.”
Something shivered down my spine at the no-nonsense way he said it, like it was an immutable fact of life.
“Of course,” said the nurse. “This way, please.”
The woozy presence through the bond went intermittently still and quiet between bouts of almost violent worry. I kept trying to send reassurance past my own fears—I’m coming, I’m coming... hold on, I’m coming.
Heath took my hand as we power-walked along endless hallways. The sudden physical contact startled me, but almost instantly, some of the tension began to drain from my shoulders.
“Can you update us on his condition?” Heath asked, not slowing down.
“It would be best for one of the doctors to give you the details,” the nurse told him. “But he underwent surgery promptly, and he’s obviously a strong and healthy alpha.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. Before last night, my only experience of hospitals had been that people on the streets who got shot, or beaten, or starved, or sick, tended to disappear in ambulances and either not come back at all, or else they came back in pretty much the same condition as before, only with more bandages.
Heath squeezed my hand. “We’d like to speak to his doctor as soon as possible, in that case,” he said.
The nurse nodded tightly. “As you’re aware, things have been crazy overnight. I’ll pass that on for you, though.”
We crowded into an elevator containing two orderlies and an unconscious woman on a gurney, squeezing to one side in an attempt to stay out of the way. When the doors dinged open, we entered an area with a lot more activity than the quiet wing with the pack room. People in masks and scrubs jogged down the corridor, while others rushed around with clipboards.
The harsh lights and overlapping, hard-edged voices scraped against my overstretched omega nerves like sandpaper. My fingers tightened convulsively around Heath’s. I felt him puff up next to me, easing a half-step sideways to tuck me behind his shoulder.
“He’s in post-op right now,” the nurse said. “It’s just around the corner, and things are a bit quieter there—I promise.”
I let Heath lead me after her, poking hesitantly at this strange feeling of someone else looking out for me. It wasn’t a grand gesture. Heath wasn’t stepping in front of a bullet for me, or rescuing me from the edge of a cliff.
My anxiety had spiked because of bright lights and loud talking and stressed people hurrying around me. It was stupid. Irrational. Heath would have been completely justified in snapping at me to hurry up and stop acting like a baby. But instead, he’d taken my hand and moved me behind him, sending reassurance through the bond like a warm fire on a freezing night. Just because I was an omega, and he was an alpha.
Because he was...myalpha.
I nearly stumbled over my own feet as the idea settled into place. We’d talked about choosing to be better,together. And this moment...this very momentwas what that looked like, in reality.
Heath glanced over his shoulder at me, looking equally startled. As though it hadn’t even occurred to him that his actions might be a big deal.
It was a big dealto me.
I stared at him, only to gasp when Gage’s consciousness resurfaced, near panic.
“Here we are.” The nurse pressed a pad, and a pair of double doors swung open. The area beyond was separated into a dozen alcoves with hanging gray curtains, but as promised, it was much quieter here. The lights were dimmer, too.
Letting go of Heath’s hand, I darted forward, following the tug toward Gage. He hurried after me, both of us ignoring the nurse’s startled, “Wait!”
I skidded to a stop at the second alcove from the end and shoved past the curtain blocking my way. Heath was right behind me.
“Gage!” I rushed to the side of the hospital bed, where Gage lay twitching, a heavy frown wrinkling his brows.
“Jesus,” Heath breathed, coming to stand at my shoulder.
Gage’s left leg was encased in a cast from his hip to the ball of his foot, only his toes visible at the bottom. He wore a neck brace, like a car accident victim. A weird set of straps crisscrossed his shoulders, like the straps of a backpack, but there was no pack. A square patch had been taped over the right side of his ribcage.
He moaned, and I lunged forward to take his hand in mine.
The nurse came puffing in, out of breath. “Please keep him as calm as you can, and don’t let him dislodge the cool pack on his ribs. He should wake more easily now that you’re here, but don’t be alarmed if he seems confused at first. I’ll see if I can get the doctor in here for you.”
