Page 52 of What a Wolf's Heart Decides

It was a ceiling.

As soon as the thought popped into her head, sounds flooded her ears—as if someone had cranked the volume on the world. A steady beep, beep, beep was background noise over other sounds. There was a low, mechanic whirring along with the distant crackle of a voice over an intercom.

Her vision cleared, revealing industrial white tiles speckled with tiny bits of black. The scent of Band-aids grew stronger.

Hospital.

She started to sit up. Pain shot across the back of her head like a white-hot laser. A groan escaped her, and she slumped back against a hard pillow, causing a whiff of antiseptic to waft around her nose.

There was a metallic scrape, followed by the squeak of shoes on linoleum and a woman’s voice. “You’re awake!”

Haley opened her eyes against the pain. A woman in blue scrubs slid a curtain back in place, then turned and breezed across the room. She went straight to a monitor mounted on a metal pole near Haley’s head.

Alarm bells went off in Haley’s head. The woman was clearly a nurse—and a human.

Danger, danger, danger. Werewolves weren’t supposed to visit human hospitals. Ever. It was something about subtle differences in their blood that threw red flags when subjected to human medical testing.

Suddenly, being on her back made her too vulnerable. She gritted her teeth and tried to sit up again.

“No, no.” The nurse waved her hands. “That’s the wrong way to do it. Here.” She pressed a button on the side of the bed. There was a soft whirring sound, then the bed lifted, putting Haley in a semi-reclined position.

The nurse gave her an assessing look. “Better?”

Actually, yeah. Haley rolled her shoulders. The ache in her head faded. “Yes, thank you.”

The nurse nodded and turned her attention to the monitor. “One-fifty over a hundred,” she muttered, frowning. She looked at Haley. “Your blood pressure’s a little high. Doctor Bennett won’t like that.”

It took a second for the last part to sink in. Haley stared at the woman. “I’m—” Her voice came out as a croak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Did you say Doctor Bennett? As in Bard Bennett?”

The nurse gave an encouraging nod, as if Haley had just solved a complicated math equation. “That’s right. It’s good you’re remembering things. We always worry about amnesia when someone takes a knock to the head like you did.” She pulled a pad of paper from her pocket and scribbled something. Then she reached up and grasped a bag of IV fluid, muttering under her breath as she fiddled with a little plastic tab attached to the tubing. “Normally, I’d take your vitals, but Doctor Bennett insisted I get him as soon as you regained consciousness.”

Haley let her gaze wander down the tubing. It stretched from the bag to her left arm, where someone had placed a thin, clear bandage in the crook of her elbow. There was a blood pressure cuff on her other arm and some kind of clip on her index finger.

The nurse kept talking as she punched buttons on one of the machines. “I’m actually surprised he agreed to do his rounds.” She glanced at Haley with an exasperated look. “He didn’t leave your side after he brought you in. He started your IV and everything!” She shook her head and dropped her voice to a disgruntled murmur. “The stubborn man wouldn’t even let us take x-rays.”

X-rays? Haley dropped her gaze to her midsection, which was covered in a hospital gown and a thin white blanket. Just how badly had she been hurt? The moments just before the avalanche came rushing back. She’d been talking to Ben about his family and the horses. Then the blood had drained from his face, and he’d shoved her toward the path leading down the mountain.

And then . . . What then? She strained, trying to remember. A dull ache spread along the back of her head.

One of the machines let out a startled beeping sound.

The nurse leaned over and tapped a button, then put a cool hand on Haley’s forearm. “Hold tight. I’ll get the doctor.”

Haley tried to summon a nod, but pain rode her like a series of angry waves. Nausea thrashed in her stomach, and her mouth filled with saliva. The best she could do was rest her head gingerly on the pillow and choke out a gravelly, “Okay.”

As soon as the nurse left, Haley ran her gaze around the room, taking shallow breaths through her mouth as the nausea receded. The nurse was human. And this was a human hospital.

Which meant Bard was a . . . human doctor?

Was that even allowed?

“Haley.” The deep voice reached her at the same moment the curtain was flipped aside. Bard entered, the nurse on his heels. She gestured toward the beeping machines as they approached the bed, then spoke in a rapid, concerned tone.

“She’s reading between seventy-five and eighty, and her heart rate is still tachycardic.”

Bard limped to Haley’s side, his gaze roving over her face.

Haley caught her breath. The grumpy, plaid shirt-wearing Alpha was gone. In his place was a tall, commanding man in blue scrubs and a long white jacket with a stethoscope sticking out of one pocket. Blue embroidery to the left of his lapel read “Bard Bennett, M.D., Emergency Medicine.”

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