Chapter 245 Chapter 245

Chapter 245 Chapter 245
Amber

“Amber, he’s going to be fine. Please calm down.” Ian’s voice sounded strained as he reached for my shoulders for what felt like the hundredth time. He wasn't being unkind, he was probably just exhausted and I understood. He didn't have to be here, he could be spending this time with Hadrian but he chose to stay here with me and while I appreciated that, it wasn't reassuring in the least bit.

I shrugged him off. I couldn’t stand still.

If I stopped moving, I would collapse.

The sterile white hallway outside the operating room felt suffocating. The fluorescent lights were too bright. The scent of antiseptic burned my nose and it should be ironic considering I'm a doctor but it's somehow different when you're the patient's family. Every time the red light above the O.R. door blinked, my heart lurched violently in my chest.

Roger had come back with backup.

I vaguely remembered it; the flashing lights, the chaos, officers swarming the rooftop. The thugs had been arrested one by one. Evidence bagged. Statements taken.

What was left of Erlan had been collected too.

I hadn’t looked.

I couldn’t.

Despite what everyone believed about Omegas being fragile, it had taken three grown men to pry me away from Rayne.

Three.

I had screamed at them. Clawed at them. Bit one of them hard enough to draw blood.

They said they needed to get him to the hospital.

They said if there was even the smallest chance, they had to take it.

I had refused to let go of him.

I remember gripping his body so tightly that my fingers cramped, sobbing that they couldn’t take him from me again.

But they did.

They loaded him into the ambulance, and I climbed in with him, my hands never leaving his.

We arrived at the hospital in what felt like seconds and an eternity all at once.

A doctor had checked him immediately.

“He’s not dead yet,” he had said.

Not dead yet.

The words had echoed in my mind like a fragile lifeline.

They rushed him into surgery.

That had been over an hour ago.

An hour on the clock.

Seven lifetimes in my chest.

I kept pacing.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

My flats squeaked faintly against the polished floor. My clothes were stiff with dried blood. My hair had dried in tangled clumps where Erlan’s blood and rainwater had matted it together. My skin felt tight and grimy.

I didn’t care.

Rayne was on the other side of that door fighting for his life.

And I—

I felt nothing.

No tug.

No warmth.

No faint, familiar pull at my soul.

The bond was gone.

For so long, I hadn’t even realized how much I depended on it. After we were freshly marked, it had been blazing and overwhelming; a fiery thread that bound us together so tightly I could barely breathe without feeling him.

After the surgery, it had dulled into something softer. A faint pressure. A gentle ache. Something subtle but constant.

Something that always made everything feel… less lonely.

I had never imagined I would miss that dull ache.

Now there was nothing.

Just emptiness.

An unbearable hollowness.

Like I had been scooped out from the inside.

Like a newborn taking its first breath in a cold, unfamiliar world.

Alone.

“Amber,” Ian tried again gently. “Sit down. Please.”

“I can’t,” I whispered.

If I sat down, I would start thinking.

If I started thinking, I would break.

Time crawled.

Every time the O.R. doors shifted even slightly, my heart slammed painfully against my ribs.

And then—

They opened fully.

The doctor stepped out.

My breath stopped.

His expression was familiar and wrong.

It was the kind of expression doctors wore when they had practiced what they were about to say in their heads.

“I’m sorry,” he began.

The word hit me like a slap.

“Despite our best efforts, Alpha Rayne didn’t make it.”

The hallway went silent.

I stared at him.

He kept talking.

Something about excessive blood loss.

Something about trauma.

Something about sending the body to the mortuary.

Body.

My knees buckled.

Ian caught me before I hit the floor.

The world tilted violently.

No.

No, that wasn’t right.

That wasn’t what he said.

I wiped my tears with the back of my hand, blinking rapidly.

“You’re lying,” I said hoarsely.

The doctor faltered. “Miss Queen—”

“You’re lying,” I repeated, louder this time.

There was no way.

Rayne wouldn’t just leave me like that.

He made me a promise.

He promised he wouldn’t die.

Ian’s arms tightened around me. “Amber…”

“No,” I snapped, shoving him away. “He wouldn’t do that.”

The doctor started to say something else, something careful and rehearsed but I pushed past him.

“I need to see him.”

“Ma’am, you shouldn’t—”

I ignored them.

I rushed toward the O.R. doors.

Two nurses tried to stop me, their hands grabbing at my arms.

“Please, you can’t go in there.”

“Let me go!” I screamed, thrashing wildly. My nails scraped against someone’s wrist. My shoulder collided with a metal cart, sending it clattering.

“Amber, stop!” Ian’s voice echoed.

“I need to see him!”

They tried to restrain me, holding my arms down as I struggled violently against them.

“Let her go,” Ian said suddenly.

Everyone froze.

“She needs to see it,” he added quietly. “She won’t accept it otherwise.”

There was hesitation.

Then slowly, they released me.

I didn’t wait.

I shoved the doors open and ran inside. The operating room smelled sterile and metallic. Bright lights hung overhead.

And there he was.

Rayne lay on the table.

Still.

Peaceful.

Too peaceful.

His skin was pale. Almost translucent. His chest wasn’t rising.

For a split second, he looked like he was just sleeping.

I rushed to his side.

“Rayne,” I breathed.

I grabbed his shoulders.

“Get up.”

Nothing.

“Rayne, this isn’t funny. Get up.”

He didn’t move.

I touched his face.

Cold.

The cold nearly made me recoil.

But I refused.

I forced myself to keep touching him, to keep holding him.

“You don’t get to do this,” I whispered fiercely. “You don’t get to die and just leave me like that.”

Still nothing.

My vision blurred.

“No.”

I shook him.

Harder.

“Get up!”

His head lolled slightly with the movement.

Something inside me cracked again.

“You don’t get the noble exit!” I screamed, slamming my fists weakly against his chest. “You don’t get to leave me with all this!”

I hit him again. And again.

“After everything you did, you think you can just die and make me carry it alone?”

Silence.

The monitors were off.

The room felt wrong.

Too still. Too final.

I stopped hitting him.

My hands trembled violently as I stared at him.

Think.

Think.

He was shot three times.

Back. Leg. Arm.

Blood loss. That had to be it. He lost too much blood. If that was the cause—

Then his heart didn’t necessarily fail.

It didn’t just stop because it wanted to.

It ran out of fuel. Out of electrical signal. Like an engine without gas.

That didn’t mean it couldn’t start again.

Right?

Unless—

Unless he entered biological death.

Unless his cells started dying beyond repair.

If that happened—

There would be no going back.

My breathing quickened.

No.

No, I couldn’t let that happen.

I had to work fast.

I pressed my palm against his chest again.

His heart just needed a spark.

A chemical spark plug.

Something to kickstart it again.

“There’s still time,” I muttered to myself.

There had to be.

There had to be.