Page 30 of Bite for Sore Eyes

She's been gone too long, his bear rumbled with increasing agitation.

He glanced at Rath, who was studying security reports with the same intense focus he brought to everything. But Torren could see the tension in his best friend's shoulders, and the way his green eyes kept flicking toward the side corridor.

Suddenly, pain exploded through his chest like a lightning strike, sharp and vicious and absolutely not his own. He looked at Rath who was holding his own chest in pain. Then Torren's bear roared in alarm as panic flooded the mate bond.

"Something's wrong with Lana," Torren said, the words torn from his throat even as Rath was already moving, his powerful frame cutting through the security center's central workspace.

Torren's legs carried him after Rath before his conscious mind caught up, both Alphas racing toward the side corridor with a focused urgency that made every head in the security center turn. Conversations died mid-sentence as their sleuth members watched their leaders sprint toward the women's restroom with barely controlled panic written across their faces.

Rath reached the door first, shouldering it open without hesitation despite the gender designation. Torren was right behind him, his heart hammering against his ribs as the metallic scent of blood hit his sensitive nose.

Lana sat crumpled on the cold tile floor beside the sink, one hand pressed to her head where crimson leaked between her fingers. Her face had gone pale except for the bright spots of color high on her cheekbones, and her brown eyes held that dazed, unfocused look that spoke of head trauma.

Our mate is bleeding, his bear snarled.

"What happened?" Rath demanded, dropping to one knee beside her.

"I was having another episode," Lana said, her voice steady despite the obvious pain. "And when I got in here, my feet went completely numb, and I fell forward and hit my head on the sink."

Torren was already moving, his hands finding the paper towel dispenser and yanking out a substantial handful. Then he bent down beside Lana and pressed it firmly against the gash on her scalp, the white material turning crimson.

Head wounds always bleed more than they should, he reminded himself.

But the coppery scent filling his nostrils and the way she winced when he touched the injury made his jaw clench with barely restrained fury at his own helplessness. Rath grabbed more towels, soaking them under the faucet before carefully wiping blood from her cheek and neck where it had dripped down. His movements were gentle despite the obvious tension radiating from his powerful frame.

"We need to get you to the medical facility now," Torren said, his voice rough as he maintained pressure on the wound. "Not for your illness—for the head trauma. We need to make sure there's no internal damage."

To his surprise, Lana didn't protest. She simply nodded, though the movement made her wince again.

She's not fighting us on this, he realized. Which means she's either more hurt than she's letting on, or she's finally accepting that she can't handle everything alone.

Before Rath could move to lift her, Torren slipped his arms beneath her knees and shoulders, gathering her against his chest with careful precision. Rath's eyes flashed with something that might've been disappointment at being beaten to the gesture, but he stepped back without protest, keeping one hand on the towels pressed to her head as they moved.

The security center fell silent as they emerged from the bathroom, every face turning toward their injured mate with expressions ranging from concern to curiosity. Jace appeared at their side immediately, his grey eyes wide with alarm.

"Oh my god, what happened?" he demanded, falling into step beside them as they headed for the exit.

"She fell in the bathroom," Rath said curtly. "We're taking her to the medical facility."

"How did she fall?" Jace pressed, his engineering mind clearly seeking logical explanations for unexpected failures.

Torren felt Lana tense in his arms at the question, and he made a split-second decision to protect her privacy until she was ready to share the truth about her condition.

"Just an accident," Torren said firmly, increasing his pace as they reached the front door.

The morning air hit them as they stepped outside, and Torren adjusted his grip to ensure Lana's comfort while Rath maintained pressure on her head wound. Torren's bear drove him forward with single-minded determination, every step bringing them closer to help for their injured mate.

She feels so small in my arms, he thought, hyperaware of her vulnerability despite knowing she was one of the strongest people he'd ever met. How can someone so brilliant and capable be so fragile at the same time?

The medical facility soon came into view ahead, and Torren's steps quickened to an urgent stride that ate up the distance between them and professional help. Seconds later, Rath burst through the front door ahead of them, his voice carrying the unmistakable authority of an Alpha in crisis mode.

"We need help! Now!"

Two familiar women appeared almost instantly—Kelly, with her chestnut hair braided back from her kind face, and Emry, with her shorter auburn hair and intense focus.

"This is Lana, our fated mate," Torren said as they approached, his words coming out clipped with controlled urgency. "She fell and hit her head at the security center."

Kelly gestured toward a treatment room with crisp efficiency. "This way. Let's get her examined properly."