Page 54 of Met Your Mate

It comes easier than it would have months ago. I don't think it's only my brother influencing my moral compass, but my entire pack. They make me want to do better, to be better. For them, and especially for our omega.

"It's okay," Casey says. "I think we both needed someone to wrangle us back together."

My responding smile is broken by a knock on the door. Then it opens with two nurses in light blue scrubs guiding Freya's still unconscious body through the frame.

We're on our feet and rushing for her bed as they hook her up to a bunch of shit in the empty space furthest from the door. The placement settles some of my anxiety, knowing that whatever comes through here has to go through us before they get to her.

"Gentlemen. A word?" the alpha doctor assigned to our pack requests in a no-nonsense tone.

It takes a considerable amount of effort to step away from Freya, but I do because I need to know what happens now.

"How bad is it?" Casey asks hesitantly, as if he's scared to know the truth.

Freya is nothing but a subtle hum through the bond. Almost like a void of nothingness; sleeping without any processing.

"Ms. Hope has a grade two concussion. Meaning she will most likely experience some dizziness and possibly confusion, but we won't know until she wakes."

"Why hasn't she woken up?" I ask immediately.

Doctor Allard, as his name tag reads, replies, "A combination of her body needing a severe amount of rest, hydration, and nutrients. Based on what Mr. Hart"—he nods to Ronan—"has relayed about what happened to her, I will also say there's a high probability she went into shock."

Curable, all of it. "So, when will she wake up?"

"When she's ready. We gave her a sedative to keep her under while we operated on her ear so those will wear off in a few hours. After that, it's up to her. She needs the rest," Dr. Allard informs us with a hard look.

Ronan guides the conversation to another pressing issue. "Her ear?"

Dr. Allard sighs but stays professional even as we all stiffen. "That's where things get complicated."

"Complicated how?" Elliott growls next to a sick-looking Casey.

"I was told a gun was shot within inches of her right ear. What we found was a ruptured eardrum, which caused the bleeding you saw. When an eardrum ruptures, it can't vibrate properly, which leads us to Ms. Hope likely having hearing problems in her right ear," he says like he didn't just make me want to throw the fuck up.

"What?! Like she's deaf in that ear now?!" Casey hisses, his hands clutched to his chest in shock.

The doctor doesn't even grimace, just answers the question. "Unfortunately, this is a wait and see kind of injury. In a lot of cases, the tear will heal anytime between a few weeks and a few months, allowing her full or partial hearing depending on the healing process. In more severe cases, if hearing doesn't improve by six months, then she would likely never be able to hear out of that ear again."

I think I'm going to be sick. Every nerve ending feels like electricity jolting through my system, demanding I do something. Anything.

"I'm going to be honest. The left one should be fine, but she might experience ringing in it for a bit right when she wakes up since it was also near the gunshot. With how close the firearm was to her right ear, though, and the severity of the tear, Ms. Hope will be lucky if she gains any hearing back in her right ear."

Everything turns muffled after that. Kind of like what my sweet mate is going to experience, I think bitterly as I turn to look at the woman in question.

I feel like I am the embodiment of the static electricity right before the first crack of lightning explodes. I fizzle and pop as I walk around her bedside to her right.

Then her poor little ear comes into view. A cotton swab plugs the hole, but it's what I see beneath that which finally makes my inner alpha roar out his fury and pain.

Blood.

I don't know whose, could be Ken's or my omega's, but either way, it shouldn't be there.

She should be in a soft, dark, cozy fucking nest, not in another sterile white room! Her porcelain skin should be pink from blushing and enjoying the sunshine. Fuck, she should be in her own clothes, maybe even one of those blankets with a hood.

I will buy her everything she could ever fucking desire. My omega will never know sacrifice ever again! I will ensure her happiness, warmth, and comfort.

No more blood.

No more bruises.

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