Page 51 of Pucking the Enemy

“Miss Giltbrook!” Oliver gaped at the sight of me carrying the small omega through the lobby.

“Hazel isn’t feeling too hot. I’m taking her to the doctor,” I informed him.

He nodded, mouth agape. “Where is Mr. Sebastian?”

“Away game,” I explained simply, ignoring the anger at his question. Sebastian seemed to be prominent in every aspect of her life, and I hated it, even though he hadn’t been around in weeks. I know I should be above jealousy, since Hazel was pregnant with my child. Not Sebastian’s.

Saying he was at an away game seemed like an easier explanation than trying to tell him what had happened recently between him and Hazel.

I placed Hazel in the passenger seat of my car, grabbing the blankets and pillows that we kept in the trunk and making sure she was comfortable. When Phillip had suggested we keep blankets and pillows in the cars in case of emergencies, I thought he was being ridiculous, but as Hazel wrapped the blanket around her with a small, sleepy smile, I silently thanked him.

My doctor’s office was situated ideally right between my place and Hazel’s, so it was only a short drive. I made sure to keep the car at a comfortable temperature and kept glancing over at Hazel, whose head was lolling on the pillow as she dozed. She must truly have been exhausted to not be paying attention on the drive.

“Hazel?” I gently shook her shoulder as we got to the doctor’s office. “We’re here. Do you want me to carry you in, or do you want to try and walk?” If it were up to me, I’d be carrying her, but I knew she would likely be embarrassed if I carried her through a busy doctor’s office.

“I can walk,” she declared groggily, sitting up and looking around the parking lot with hazy eyes.

“Are you sure?” Part of me wanted to disregard what she was saying and just scoop her up, anyway.

Unfortunately, I knew Hazel well enough to understand that would probably lead to a very angry omega, and a very angry omega did not make for a good time.

Hauling myself out of the car, I walked around to her side, opening the door and holding my hand out for hers. Even her hand felt tiny in mine.

Standing up, Hazel let out a small moan before shaking her head and focusing on the task ahead.

Once inside the doctor’s office, I went straight to the reception.

“Kingswood,” I said. The nurse didn’t need to know anything other than my name.

“Go straight into exam room three,” the nurse instructed, looking over Hazel with concerned eyes.

Nodding, I did as I was told, practically dragging Hazel with me.

Money talked—and for Hazel, I would make it fucking scream.

“I feel stupid.” Hazel sighed, leaning back and resting her head on the wall behind her.

“Don’t. The baby is causing all kinds of chaos in your body.”

“But dehydration? You carried me out of my dorm like some masked superhero wannabe because I was a little thirsty?”

I snorted. It was a bit more than that. According to the doctor, she had reached the point of dehydration where her muscles were struggling, and her cognitive function was minimal.

When the doctor had mentioned that, she had laughed weakly and informed the doctor it was okay—she spent her time around people like me who already had minimal cognitive function.

Even when sick, she found a way to sass me.

“Can we go yet?” she whined.

“Not until your veins have taken the whole bag. You heard the doctor.”

After diagnosing the issue, the doc had hooked her up with IV fluids. She had tried to protest when he had brought out the needles, so to distract her, I let her squeeze my hand.

If all my bones were still intact, I would have been surprised. For such a tiny, frail omega, she had one hell of a grip.

“But I want to go home,” she whined.

“Come back to the pack house with me,” I offered, though I didn’t plan on taking no for an answer.

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