Page 57 of Rejected By The Alpha Heir

I try to use my wolf senses to seek out Yelena, but the scents are all too overwhelming in the emergency room.

Shouts and cries echo throughout the space as medical staff rush to aid the injured.

I round a corner and there: her scent. Faint but unmistakable. I follow it, weaving between patients and staff until I reach a set of double doors.

“Move!” someone yells, and I turn, diving out of the way as two paramedics rush a gurney through the hallway.

Someone screams from beyond the doors, raising my hackles.

Taking the chance, I follow the gurney and slip past the double doors. The main treatment area is bustling, with injured people everywhere. Harried-looking doctors and nurses rush to andfro. The only good thing about this situation is that no one has noticed me or asked why I’m here.

I breathe deeply, trying to pick Yelena’s scent out from the crowd.

I slip through them into a quieter ward, the sounds of chaos fading behind me. Her scent grows stronger, a beacon guiding me to her.

The screaming starts again, and soon, a flood of people come running out of the far hallway.

“Call security! He has a knife!” someone yells.

The surrounding people push and shove to get out of the way. But, unlike them, I move forward toward the disturbance.

The closer I get, the stronger Yelena’s scent is. I push past a nurse and round the corner. I see movement out of the corner of my eye and a flash of bright pink. If I didn’t know better, I swear I just saw Sylvie. But when I scan the area, she’s nowhere to be found.

“Hurry! Yelena’s still in there!” I hear a nurse cry on the phone.

Yelena.

I surge forward, jogging down the hall until I reach the final treatment room. I can hear her before I can see her.

“You don’t want to do this. It’s going to be okay. I promise we’ll do the best we can to help her. Just put down the knife,” Yelena coaxes.

I peek through the door to assess the situation. What I see makes me clench my fists and see red.

An old woman is lying in the hospital bed, and she looks unconscious. Yelena is hovering over her, blocking her with her body, while a young, deranged-looking man is crowding her and waving a knife. His face is twisted in pain and distress, but there’s blood dripping off the knife, and there’s blood on Yelena’s scrubs.

My wolf doesn’t allow me to hesitate. Someone hurt our mate. I have to respond.

In a flash, I’m in the room. Both the man and Yelena gasp and whirl around at my presence.

I growl and stalk forward, grabbing the man by his wrist and twisting, sharply. A crack sounds, and he howls with pain. His knife clatters to the floor.

“Go to the door, Yelena,” I order, keeping my eyes glued on the man who hurt my mate.

He’s trying to cradle his injured wrist, but as soon as Yelena scoots by, he launches himself at me. I dodge him easily, catching the back of his shirt and slamming him up against the wall.

“You touched her, and for that, you will pay,” I growl in his ear.

He jams his head backward toward my nose, but I’m too fast for him. I wrap my arm around his throat and squeeze, stopping only when he goes limp. When he slumps to the floor, I quickly pocket the knife and hurry over to Yelena. She’s holding herself and looking terrified.

“Talk to me. Are you hurt? Are you okay?” I ask her urgently, scanning her for any more visible signs of injury. My hands are on her shoulders, and I can feel her shaking.

“Yelena, baby, talk to me,” I plead.

“It’s just a scratch. I’m fine,” she whispers, finally, “But I was so scared.”

I pull her into a hug, smoothing her hair and holding her as she shakes.

“How did you find me?” she asks when she pulls away.

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