CHAPTER 4
1491 Words
EZRA
The second Lainey walks out of my office, the air shifts in a way that makes it impossible to concentrate, because her scent lingers thick and warm and threaded with defiance, and even though Gianna is still sitting on my lap with her arm looped possessively around my neck, all I can smell is rain, blood, and something that has been mine for six years whether I admitted it or not.
I lower my eyes to the paperwork spread across my desk, reports about patrol rotations, tax compliance, and territory disputes that should demand my full attention, but the words blur together because my wolf is pacing inside my skull like a predator that has finally caught sight of prey after years of forced restraint.
Roman does not bother with subtlety.
You let her walk away.
I sign my name at the bottom of a document that no longer feels important, and I keep my expression neutral even though irritation coils tight in my chest.
“She’s nothing,” I mutter internally, and even I can hear how hollow that sounds.
Roman snarls low and deliberate.
Nothing does not make your pulse spike when she leaves.
Gianna presses a slow kiss to my jaw, her perfume sweet and suffocating, and she shifts on my lap as if to reclaim territory she assumes is secure.
“You’re distracted,” she says lightly, tracing her fingers down the front of my shirt. “That girl at school, what was that about.”
“It was handled,” I reply evenly, and I do not look at her because if I compare scents again, I will lose what little composure I have left.
Yesterday I would have enjoyed her touch, and yesterday I would have pulled her closer without hesitation, but today my body feels rigid and unresponsive while Roman’s growl deepens every time she moves.
Get rid of her.
“I have work,” I say, lifting her off my lap and setting her on the arm of the chair with controlled firmness.
She pouts briefly, but ambition smooths it away.
“My uncle wants a meeting,” she says, straightening her dress. “He’s ready to formalize the alliance.”
The word alliance settles heavily between us, and Roman goes still in a way that feels more dangerous than his anger.
Once the treaty is signed, you end this.
“I’ll arrange it,” I reply, although my voice sounds distant even to me.
Gianna smiles, satisfied with an answer she believes benefits her.
“You’re making the right choice,” she says softly. “The pack needs strength.”
Strength.
Roman’s voice slices through my thoughts.
You are not strong if you deny what is yours.
Before I can push back, Declan’s voice cuts sharply through the mind link.
Lainey’s at the hospital.
Everything in me locks into place.
What happened.
Beaten. Alley behind the diner. Multiple attackers.
The world narrows instantly, and Gianna’s voice becomes nothing more than background noise as Roman surges forward with violent clarity.
I stand abruptly, and she stumbles back.
“Ezra,” she snaps, confusion flashing across her face. “What are you doing.”
“I have pack business,” I say, already moving toward the door.
“Is this about her,” she demands, suspicion sharpening her tone.
I do not answer because I am already running.
The distance between the packhouse and the hospital disappears beneath my boots as I push myself faster than necessary, and every step sharpens my focus until there is nothing left except the imagined scent of blood.
When I burst through the hospital doors, the smell hits me instantly, metallic and faint and threaded unmistakably with pain, and my vision darkens at the edges as Roman pushes forward.
I follow the scent down the corridor without asking for directions, ignoring startled nurses and stiffened staff, and I reach the examination room within seconds.
The sight inside fractures what little restraint I have left.
A male is leaning over her, unbuttoning her shirt.
I do not think, and I do not calculate.
I grab him by the collar and rip him backward, slamming him into the wall hard enough that plaster cracks and dust shakes loose.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing,” I snarl, and there is no separation between me and my wolf in that moment.
He raises his hands immediately.
“No one was helping her,” he shoots back, anger flashing across his face. “I was checking her ribs.”
“She’s mine to handle,” I growl.
“She’s bleeding,” he fires back without hesitation. “And your staff was ignoring her.”
That lands harder than I expect, and I glance at Lainey.
Bruises bloom across her skin in violent purples and reds, her lip is split, and her breathing is shallow and uneven.
Something inside me splinters.
“Doctor,” I roar, and the authority in my voice reverberates down the hallway. “Get in here now.”
The response is immediate, because nurses rush forward and the doctor follows with pale urgency.
“Alpha,” he says quickly.
“You will treat her,” I say coldly, stepping closer so my words leave no room for doubt, “and you will treat her properly, and if I find out you ignored her because of rank, I will replace you.”
The doctor swallows hard.
“Yes, Alpha.”
They move with new speed, and I step back only when I am certain they are doing everything necessary.
I drag the male into the hallway.
“Name.”
“Carter.”
“You work at the café.”
“Yes.”
“With her mother.”
“Yes.”
“How many.”
“Five,” he replies without hesitation. “Madison, Sam, John, David, Luke. They were kicking her when I got there.”
Roman surges with lethal clarity.
Kill them.
My hands curl into fists, but my voice remains level.
“Where are they now.”
“They scattered,” Carter says. “They ran.”
Declan appears at the end of the hallway, his expression already dark.
“I want them rounded up,” I tell him immediately. “All five. Dungeon.”
Declan nods once.
“They’ll resist.”
“They won’t,” I reply calmly. “Because if they do, you break something.”
Carter stiffens.
“You’re just throwing them in a cell.”
I turn toward him slowly.
“You think that’s all that’s going to happen.”
He holds my gaze.
“She didn’t deserve that,” he says quietly.
“No,” I agree.
“I want to stay,” he adds. “I want to make sure she’s okay.”
The possessiveness that rises inside me is immediate and sharp.
“She has someone,” I reply evenly. “You’re dismissed.”
He clenches his jaw but eventually steps back.
“I’ll be at the diner,” he says, glancing toward the room. “Tell her.”
I do not respond.
Declan watches him leave.
“You’re going to split the pack over this,” he says quietly.
“Not me,” I reply.
Inside the room, the doctor’s voice carries faintly.
“She has internal bruising.”
“Fractures,” a nurse adds.
“Concussion.”
My jaw tightens.
“She will recover,” the doctor says quickly. “She heals stronger than expected.”
“She should,” I reply. “She’s not weak.”
Declan studies me.
“You were going to reject her.”
“I know.”
“You still might.”
I do not answer, because watching her lie there pale and battered and still breathing strips away every political calculation I made.
Roman speaks with quiet certainty.
You were never going to reject her.
“They will answer for this,” I say finally.
“You want it public,” Declan says.
“Yes.”
“And if the council pushes back.”
“They won’t.”
“And if they do.”
I meet his gaze without hesitation.
“Then they answer to me.”
Inside the room, Lainey shifts faintly, and my focus sharpens instantly.
“They thought she was expendable,” I say quietly.
“They won’t think that again,” Declan replies.
No, they won’t.
Because the wolves who touched her, who believed they could bleed her out in an alley without consequence, have no idea what they have just set in motion.
I told myself I would reject her, and I told myself it was strategy, and I told myself it was necessary for the pack.
But watching her bleed stripped every excuse down to bone.
Roman falls silent.
Satisfied.
And the wolves who did this did not just attack an omega.
They attacked the Alpha’s mate.
And I am done pretending otherwise.
- Writer
