Page 61 of Pack Deception: Part Two

“It’s nothing to worry about just yet. Let’s call the nurse and get this IV out of you. You need to rest,” Brooklyn says, wringing her fingers.

Summer frowns at her and looks around, but we’re all avoiding her eyes. Nobody wants to be the bearer of bad news. To tell our mate we couldn’t protect her.

“Tell me,” she insists.

Brooklyn stares at Summer for the longest time, sighs, and then bites the bullet. She tells Summer everything that happened. About Tatem, Pack Monroe, the OPS agents, and the past two weeks.

Tears are streaming down Summer’s face as absolute devastation coats her features.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. You’re alright now. Everything’s going to be alright.” Hudson takes her hands in his and rubs the chill from them.

“You don’t understand,” Summer chokes out between tears.

“Okay. So tell us. Help us understand.” He brings her hand to his mouth and gives it a gentle kiss in encouragement.

We sit in silence for a few minutes while Summer gathers herself. The courage, maybe. Or the strength. She must be so tired. Emotionally. Physically.

But then she starts talking in a whispered voice. “When Maverick took me to get tattooed, I got a call from Doctor Tanner. She ran my bloodwork the night I thought you guys had… Well, that night.”

She moves on quickly, talking about the night she thought we were drugging her.

“Earlier in the day, I had an appointment with her because I thought… I thought I might be pregnant. We didn’t use any protection during my heat.” Pink tinges her cheeks as she looks at a now eerily still Hudson and Maverick. Hope fills my chest.

A baby.

We’ve talked about kids before. All of us were in agreement that we wanted them someday.

Is Summer?

“But she called me with the results of that blood work when we were at the tattoo parlor. Not only was I not pregnant, but I likely wouldn’t ever be. The drugs they were giving me were destroying my FSH levels.”

The mood in the nest goes from wary and worried, to sad, to red-hot anger. If they weren’t already behind bars, I’d hunt them down and end them myself.

“Five percent. That’s how likely I was to get pregnant before. Before this new drug they gave me. That’s probably zero now,” she cries, the tears starting up again. Hudson pulls her into his lap and rocks her back and forth, purring for her. Trying to soothe the heartache. I watch as our big, goofy alpha looks up to the ceiling to stop his own tears from falling.

Tears that his mate is suffering so much, or for a future he envisioned that won’t ever happen anymore, I don’t know. He was the most vocal about wanting a kid someday.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. We’ll figure it out. We’ll find the best doctors, the best fertility specialists. Anything you want, we’ll make it happen,” Brooklyn declares. Summer peeks her head out from where she was hidden in Hudson’s shirt.

“What if–What if I can’t ever get pregnant?”

She thinks we’ll leave her.I want to scream at Pack Moore–Monroe–for making her feel so unloved.

“Summer, listen to me.” Wary, warm brown eyes meet mine. “Even if you can’t ever have kids, even if we spend tens of thousands of dollars for a chance that never happens, nobody here is going to love you any less.” Shock ripples through our three alphas when Summer looks around like she thinks they’ll disagree with me.

“Of course not!” Hudson growls. “You’re stuck with us now. Forever.”

Nods of agreement from Brooklyn and Maverick. But she meets my eyes again, and I say, “Pack.”

A promise from one fucked-up, insecure, former abusee to another. One word that I know she struggles to accept, and maybe always will. Like I will. Because healing takes time. People regress. There will be bad days between all the good. But one thing she’ll always be able to count on is us.

Her eyes shine as she looks at me and whispers it back like a promise. A prayer.

“Pack.”

Epilogue 1

Summer

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