Page 89 of Feral Omega

Wraith follows a few paces behind, that hulking silhouette swallowed by the swirling snow. I can feel the weight of his stare, those pale eyes boring into the back of my skull. Watching, always watching with that disturbing intensity.

It's unnerving, the way that monster seems to orbit Ivy now. Like she's the sun around which his fractured mind revolves, grounding him in a way I've never seen before.

The thought should terrify me. This is Wraith, after all. The monster whose violent outbursts have nearly gotten us all killed more times than I can count.

And now he's fixated on Ivy with that same single-minded intensity.

It should make me want to turn and tear him apart with my bare hands, to eliminate the threat before he can so much as breathe the same air as my omega.

But he protected her when the rest of us failed.

The realization is a bitter pill to swallow, an admission that the very monster I've deemed too dangerous to allow to live may not be entirely devoid of worth after all.

A low growl rumbles in my chest, equal parts confusion and reluctant acceptance.

Maybe there's more to the brute than I realized. More than just a raging beast driven by bloodlust and the need to destroy.

The thought is almost... reassuring, in a twisted way.

Almost.

We finally reach the mansion's rear entrance, a heavy steel door set into the concrete foundation. Thane wrenches it open, the hinges screaming in protest as frigid gusts swirl inside. I duck through the entrance and follow Thane down a series of stark, featureless corridors.

At last, we reach a heavy metal door marked with a faded red cross. The clinic, no doubt purposed for triage and emergency care back when this place was still in active use.

I push through without hesitation, already scanning the space with a critical eye. Dim fluorescent lights flicker to life, bathing the room in a sickly glow that only accentuates the drab monotony of steel and concrete.

Not exactly a five-star medical facility. But it'll have to do.

"Put her on the exam table," I say, already striding toward the locked supply cabinets lining one wall. I rip them open with ruthless efficiency, rifling through the meager contents in search of anything I can use.

Bandages, antiseptic, sterile gauze... all present and accounted for, if in short supply. But no IV drips or blood packs, no heavy-duty antibiotics or other advanced treatments.

I'll have to make do with what I've got in my field kit. Pray that it's enough to stabilize Ivy until we can get her somewhere with real facilities.

A soft creak of metal on metal draws my attention. I turn to find Whiskey gently lowering Ivy's limp form onto the exam table, those big hands surprisingly tender as he tucks Wraith's bloodied coat around her.

I fight back a possessive snarl at the sight, forcing myself to remain calm and detached. This isn't about me and my twisted desires. It's about saving her life, pure and simple.

Striding to the table, I lean over her pale form and begin my assessment with cold, clinical precision. Her pulse is thready but present, her breathing shallow but even. Good signs, all things considered.

The bandage is another story. I peel back the sodden fabric with careful movements, revealing the ugly furrow gouged into her upper arm. The flesh is inflamed and oozing, streaks of red already radiating out in the telltale signs of infection setting in.

"Shit," I mutter, probing the wound with gloved fingers. "This is going to need more than just a few stitches and some antiseptic."

"Well, get on with it then," Valek snaps from the corner where he lounges, somehow managing to look bored despite the tension thrumming through the room.

I level a scathing glare in his direction, the sudden urge to throttle the smirking bastard nearly overpowering me. "This is serious, Valek," I bite out through gritted teeth. "She's lost a lot of blood, and the infection is already raging through her system. If I don't get some antibiotics and a transfusion set up soon..."

I trail off, unable to give voice to the unthinkable possibility. Losing her now, after everything, after she somehow managed to survive the impossible out there...

It's not an option. Not for me.

"A transfusion?" Thane rumbles, already shrugging out of his tac vest and rolling up the sleeve of his thermal shirt. "Take what you need from me."

"I can't," I say with a shake of my head, the words like ash on my tongue. "You're AB positive. It would trigger a rejection."

Thane's jaw tightens, frustration flickering across those harsh features. "Then who?—"

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