Chapter 203
Kara
"No." The word came from all three of them simultaneously, a wall of Alpha authority that would have made anyone else back down immediately.
But Dr. Harrison just raised an eyebrow, completely unimpressed. "I've known you boys since you were in diapers. Your posturing doesn't work on me. Either you step back and let me do my job, or I call security and have you removed from this room."
"Try it," Blake snarled, moving closer to where I stood shivering in my underwear. "See how far you get before I—"
"Blake." I caught his hand, threading our fingers together. His skin was fever-hot against mine, his pulse racing beneath my thumb. "He's right. He needs space to work. And I need..." I swallowed hard. "I need to know if the baby's okay. If I'm okay. Please."
The internal struggle played out across his face, instinct warring with reason. His wolf wanted to guard me, to stand between me and anyone who might cause me pain—even a doctor trying to help. But the human part of him, the part that loved me enough to respect my choices, understood what I was asking.
Finally, reluctantly, he took a single step back. Asher and Cole followed suit, though none of them moved far enough to actually give Dr. Harrison the space he'd requested. They hovered at the edges of the room like sentinels, ready to intervene at the first sign of distress.
Overprotective idiots, I thought with a surge of affection I hadn't expected. My overprotective idiots.
Dr. Harrison's examination was thorough and professional, his touch clinical as he checked my injuries, listened to my heart, palpated my abdomen with the kind of careful precision that made me realize he knew exactly how terrified I was. Every time I flinched, I felt my Alphas tense through our bond, felt their barely restrained need to stop this, to make it stop hurting.
"The baby?" I asked quietly when I couldn't stand the silence anymore. "Is it—are they—"
"Strong heartbeat." Dr. Harrison's face softened into something approaching a smile. "Good positioning. You've been through hell, Kara, but your body is resilient. Your child is resilient. With proper care and rest, I see no reason why this pregnancy can't continue normally."
The relief that flooded through me was so intense it made me dizzy. Through our bond, I felt my Alphas' matching euphoria, felt Blake's knees nearly buckle with the weight of it, felt Cole's mint scent sweeten with joy, felt Asher's iron control finally crack just enough to let hope bleed through.
Our baby is okay, I thought, and for the first time since Diana had grabbed me, I felt something other than fear and rage. Our baby survived. We all survived.
"Rest," Dr. Harrison repeated, his tone brooking no argument as he helped me back into Blake's jacket. The leather was still cold and stiff, but it smelled like him—like fire and gunpowder and mine—and that was enough. "Which means no more running through collapsing buildings, no more fighting blood magic cults, and absolutely no stress for at least the next week. Ideally longer."
"A week?" Blake sounded incredulous, almost offended. "Try a month. Try six months. Try until the baby is born and another six months after that. Hell, try forever."
I would have argued—would have pointed out that I was pregnant, not made of glass—but the exhaustion was catching up with me now that the adrenaline had worn off. My eyelids felt heavy, my body suddenly remembering every impact, every terror, every moment of desperate flight through Diana's nightmare compound.
I'm so tired, I thought, swaying slightly on my feet. So tired of being scared. Of being strong. Of pretending I'm okay when I'm really, really not.
"Let's go home," Asher said quietly, and I realized he'd been monitoring me through our bond, feeling the exhaustion dragging at me. "You need real rest. In our bed, where you're safe."
Our bed. Not my bed. Not their bed. Our bed, like I belonged there. Like I'd always belonged there, instead of in that storage room counting down the days until I could escape.
The thought should have made me panic. Should have triggered all my carefully constructed defenses against depending on anyone, against believing I was wanted for more than what I could provide.
Instead, it just made me feel... tired. Too tired to fight, too tired to question, too tired to do anything except nod and let Blake lift me like I weighed nothing.
"I can walk," I protested weakly, but I was already curling into his chest, already letting his fire-and-leather scent wrap around me like a blanket.
"Humor me," he said, his voice rough with emotions I didn't have the energy to parse. "Let me carry you. Let me feel like I'm doing something useful instead of just standing around watching you hurt."
You came for me, I wanted to say. You tore through Diana's compound and saved my parents and got me out before she could steal my body. That's useful. That's more than useful. That's everything.
But the words stuck in my throat, too raw and vulnerable to voice. So instead I just nodded against his chest and let him carry me out to the SUV, let Cole fuss with blankets and pillows, let Asher's cold authority clear the halls of any pack members who might have had questions I wasn't ready to answer.
The drive back to Midnight Estate was quiet, the kind of exhausted silence that came after surviving the unsurvivable. Snow fell in thick curtains outside the SUV's windows, turning the world into a white blur that matched the static in my head. Everything felt muffled and distant, like I was watching it happen to someone else.
Shock, some distant part of my brain supplied. You're going into shock. That's normal after trauma. That's your body trying to protect you.
From what? I thought hysterically. The trauma already happened. I already lived through it. What's left to protect me from?
The memory, my wolf answered quietly. The fear that it could happen again. The knowledge that we're not as safe as we thought we were.
I closed my eyes against that truth, burrowing deeper into Blake's warmth.
Are you okay? Cole's mental voice was gentle, concerned, and I felt him monitoring me through our bond with the same intensity he'd use on a critical patient. Really okay?
I don't know, I admitted, too tired to lie. Ask me tomorrow. Or next week. Or next year, when I've had time to process any of this.
Fair enough, Asher sent back, his mental presence a solid anchor in the chaos of my thoughts. But for what it's worth—you were incredible back there. Rescuing your parents, freeing all those people, standing up to Diana herself. I've never been more proud to call you my mate.
Our mate, Blake corrected, his mental voice carrying a possessive edge that made my wolf preen despite my exhaustion. And Asher's right. You're the strongest person I know, Princess. The bravest. The most—
Blake. I cut him off before he could spiral into the kind of emotional declaration that would make us both cry. Save it for later. When I'm not half-dead from exhaustion and can actually appreciate it properly.
His chest rumbled with silent laughter beneath my cheek, the vibration soothing something raw and jagged in my chest. Through our bond, I felt all three of them settling into a kind of watchful contentment—the crisis wasn't over, not by a long shot, but for this moment, I was safe in their arms.
And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.