The first thing I felt was the weight in the air. Heavy. Suffocating.
Like the whole room was holding its breath. Then I opened my eyes.
Light filtered in through the blinds, thin and pale, slicing across white walls. The scent of antiseptic clung to everything sharp, cold, clean but it couldn't mask the other scent that crawled beneath my skin. His scent.
My heart lurched as my vision cleared. The pack doctor, Mira, stood at the foot of my bed, her face drained of color. Two nurses hovered behind her, trembling so badly that the metal tray one of them held clattered against the floor.
And in the far corner of the room, half hidden in shadow, stood Alpha Zach.
He wasn't moving. Just standing there, arms folded, watching. His presence filled the room the way thunder filled the sky before a storm silent, charged, inevitable.
For a heartbeat, I thought I was still dreaming.
But then Mira spoke, and the tremor in her voice made the nightmare real.
