Chapter 27 Chapter Twenty Seven - Awakening

Chapter 27 Chapter Twenty Seven - Awakening

Chapter Twenty-Two: Awakening

Carter's eyes fluttered open to blinding white light. For the

Everything hurt. Although this time it wasn’t the sharp, unbearable agony he vaguely remembered from before, instead it was a dull, persistent ache that radiated through his entire body as if he'd been hit by a truck.

His arms throbbed, his stomach felt tender and stiff, and his head pounded with a headache so painful it made him want to close his eyes again and sleep for another week.

He blinked slowly, trying to make sense of his surroundings.

He saw the white ceiling tiles, heard the steady beep of monitors, and smelled the sharp, antiseptic scent of a medical facility. For the second time that week, he was waking up in a hospital.

"He's awake!"

The shout came from somewhere to his left, and suddenly there was commotion everywhere.

People in white coats rushed to his bedside, shining lights in his eyes, checking his pulse, and asking him rapid-fire questions he couldn't quite process.

"Can you hear me? Can you tell me your name?"

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Pulse is steady, oxygen levels good, pupil response normal…"

Carter's mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. He tried to speak, but his tongue felt thick and clumsy. "What... what happened exactly?"

The doctor closest to him, an older man with silver hair and an unhappy expression, hesitated.

He frowned deeply, full of concern. "We can go into the details later. Please, just try to relax. You've been through quite an ordeal."

"But—" Carter started to protest, then his gaze drifted to the hospital bed positioned directly next to his own. “Is that...”

Dallas lay there, unconscious and utterly still.

His face was pale as grey, and covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his breathing was so shallow that Carter had to watch carefully to see his chest rise and fall.

He looked like a corpse, as though death itself had taken him.

Wires and tubes connected Dallas to at least half a dozen machines, all of them beeping and whirring. An IV dripped clear fluid into his arm and heart monitor leads were stuck to his bare chest.

His hands lay limp at his sides, completely motionless. Carter's chest tightened with fear

"What happened to him?" He whispered, his voice fragile and terrified.

But the doctors weren't listening. They were too busy chattering amongst themselves, calling out to each other using so much medical jargon that made Carter's aching head spin worse.

"—can't believe he's actually conscious. His vitals are stabilizing faster than expected—"

"—need to monitor for infection, internal bleeding. But right now we need to focus on the Alpha, his temperature is dropping, so increase the dosage of—"

"Can someone PLEASE explain to me what exactly is going on here?" Carter's voice cracked, raw with desperation and confusion and growing panic.

The commotion suddenly stopped.

All eyes turned to him, and in the sudden silence, Carter could hear his own ragged breathing, just like he could feel his heart hammering against his ribs.

One of the younger doctors stepped forward; he was some guy who looked barely out of medical school, with kind eyes and nervous hands that kept fidgeting with his stethoscope.

"Hello, Carter. My name is Isaac," he said gently, as though he was talking to a frightened child.

"You were attacked three days ago by the Alpha's younger brother, Marcus. You... you died. Your heart stopped, and you weren't breathing. You were gone." He finished.

Carter started to laugh awkwardly, unable to believe it, but when he saw no one else was laughing, he stopped.

He looked down at his arms, at the bandages wrapped around them, at the IV line snaking into his vein and suddenly fragments of his memories started to surface.

He remembered Marcus coming out from behind the door and slashing through flesh, his blood pooling on white marble, his pain so deep that it had swallowed him whole, but not before he used the last of his strength to call out for Dallas to return.

And he did.

"But Alpha Dallas stepped in," Isaac continued, his voice full of awe and respect for his leader.

“He used an ancient healing technique to take your pain into himself. All of it. So every injury and every wound, as well as all the agony your human body couldn't survive, he absorbed it all for you. Which is why now, miraculously, you're alive."

Carter's brain struggled to process that information. "What are you talking about?”

Isaac's expression flickered with uncertainty. "As for your baby, we're not sure yet. The fetus is so early in development that it's difficult to detect, but there are signs that suggest it may have survived. We'll need to run more tests to make sure of this."

"How long ago was this?" Carter asked, his voice hollow. "The attack. How long have I been unconscious?"

"Three days," the older doctor answered in a clipped, professional tone. "You've been in and out of consciousness, mostly delirious from the fever and the healing process. This is the first time you've been coherent."

Carter's eyes snapped back to Dallas's motionless body. "Dallas has been passed out for three days?"

The panic in his voice was rising, threatening to choke him. "Oh my God. Is he going to be okay? Is he... is he going to wake up?"

The questions tumbled out before Carter could stop them, each one laced with a worry and fear that he knew he shouldn't be feeling.

After all, he was supposed to hate Dallas, not to mention he was also supposed to be planning his escape, and not sitting here terrified that his kidnapper might not survive.

And yet here he was, his chest tight with dread, his hands shaking with the need to reach out and touch Dallas, just to confirm he was still breathing.

"Who's going to run this place if he doesn't wake up?" Carter asked, "The pack, the festival he kept talking about, what happens to all of that?"

Isaac opened his mouth to respond, but the older doctor cut him off with a sharp look.

"He saved your life," Isaac said anyway, ignoring his superior's warning glare. "The Alpha Dallas gave everything to bring you back. He…"

"That's enough, Isaac," the older doctor snapped. Then he turned to Carter, and his expression was cold as though he was accusing Carter of something.

The doctor said, “Count yourself fortunate that you are so loved, human. Hope beyond hope that the Alpha does not die because of this selfless act, despite my many warnings that fell on deaf ears."

He gestured toward Dallas's unconscious body with barely concealed frustration.

"He is currently experiencing all the pain your fragile human body could not handle; every cut, every puncture, and every moment of your torment, for your sake.”

The doctor sighed deeply, “We're hoping his werewolf healing abilities will help him recover faster, but the chances are slim. Every day he remains unconscious is another step away from reality, another step toward permanent damage or perhaps even death."

The doctor's voice grew harsher and colder with every word he spoke. "His family has been contacted. The pack elders are already proceeding with funeral arrangements. The consensus among the medical team is clear: the Alpha will not survive this."