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 parentspassed 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 freezein 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.
Chapter 13: Mona
Warm chocolate melted over hazelnuts. Freshly baked cinnamon rolls, a toasty campfire mingling with the comforting smoke of firewood—the kind of scent that clings to your clothes for days. They all swirl together, making my mouth water, lulling me out of the strangest dream.
My muscles scream in protest when I try to stretch out.
I'm in a bed. On arealmattress. I can't remember the last time I slept in a bed. It feels amazing, soft, and cozy. My omega whimpers with pleasure, and I stretch my limbs long, despite the strain. Beep is sleeping contentedly inside me. It pulls a smile from my lips.
I blink slowly. Even my eyelids ache. The late afternoon sun spills across the room, illuminating the dust that dances between the figures hovering close to the bed. My first instinct is to run, but Beep is relaxed. She stirs, but that's it. I've always trusted Beep's instincts, but everything in my head startles in alarm that I'm in a strange place, being stared at by strange people. And yet… I feel calm.
Too tired to move, too sore to run, I glance around the room, taking in my surroundings.
The older man has hair like dandelion fluff. Deep wrinkles map his aged face, with kind, gray eyes that watch me with patient curiosity. Beside him stands a tall man with short, messy blond hair. Something flickers in my mind. We've met, but the details are fuzzy.
Mate, my omega whispers.
I stare back in shocked silence.
I know what the word means. I know the definition. But I can't comprehend the reverence in her tone. Themeaning.
Mate. This time it's Beep that says it, as she slowly wakes.
The blond man's arctic blue eyes gleam as if he could hear her words, too. That scent—chocolate hazelnut, sweet and rich and warm—thickens in the air. He takes a deliberate step closer, leans down, a tentative hand reaching out to touch my bruised, outstretched leg. His fingers flex and extend before I feel the weight on my shin, anchoring me down.
His lips don't smile, but his eyes do. They crinkle at the corners as he looks from my face to my leg where he touches me, then back to my face. Unspoken questions brew between us—his might be louder than mine, with the way his lips contort.
His face is carved perfection—high cheekbones, a long, roman nose. Dirty blond scruff shaped into a short beard. Cool blue eyes peer at me in wonder, like he wants to see and know everything. It strips me down, but holds me close. His lips part as if to say something, to finally ask whatever it is he's been holding in, but a wolf's growl pulls my attention to the left.
It takes a second to register what I'm seeing through the fog of pain, waking in this strange place. And he doesn't look quite the same.
He's got the same intensity—predatory focus that makes my insides shiver. Muscles coiled tight, straining beneath his dark t-shirt. His face is sharper, cheekbones like blades beneath olive skin—darker than I remember, the tone blending with smudges of dirt he hadn't bothered to wash off.
Big, dominating, violent energy crackles around him, like there's static electricity humming through his veins. Command rolls off him in waves.
The last time I saw him, he seemed more aloof. Quiet, cunning, a hunter in the shadows.
