“Copy that,” Margaret said. “Medical response?”
“Two more ambulances arriving from County General within the hour. Silas Vance and his team can brief them on current caseload.” I glanced at Silas, who was standing behind me along with Beau and Dane. All three of them had been hovering for the past ninety minutes, not interfering but present in a way that made it hard to pretend everything was normal.
“And you’ll be available for consultation if issues arise?” Margaret asked.
“Remote check-ins every four hours. Radio communication if needed. I’ll have full access to systems.” I pulled up the communication protocols I’d drafted. “You’re the primary coordinator now. I’m backup.”
She gave me a look that said she knew exactly why I was stepping back, but was too professional to comment. “Understood. We’ve got this, Sable. Take care of yourself.”
Take care of yourself. Like it was that simple.
I ended the call and stared at my tablet, trying not to acknowledge how hot I felt. How my skin was too tight and my clothes were too rough and every breath brought the scent of three alphas who smelled like home and safety and everything I’d been trying not to want.
“Time’s up,” Dane said quietly. “We need to move.”
“Five more minutes. I need to brief the shelter coordinators on the transition plan.”
“You already briefed them. Twice.” Silas moved into my line of sight, crouching so he could meet my eyes. “Sable, you’re doing that thing where you try to control everything because admitting you need help feels like weakness. But it’s not weakness. It’s biology.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re shaking.”
I looked down at my hands and realized he was right. Subtle tremors, barely noticeable, but there. Pre-heat symptoms manifesting despite my best efforts to ignore them.
“I’m just tired.”
“You’re going into heat, and you’re about ninety minutes from it hitting hard enough that you won’t be able to think straight.” His voice was gentle but firm. “Please. Let us get you somewhere safe before that happens.”
The please did it. Silas didn’t say please often. When he did, he meant it.
“Okay.” The word came out smaller than I intended. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Beau appeared at my side, taking my tablet and radio. “I’ve got these. Dane’s truck is out back. We’ll avoid the main floor.”
“People will notice I’m leaving.”
“Let them notice.” Dane’s voice held absolute certainty. “Your safety matters more than appearances.”
We moved through the building quickly, avoiding the main corridors where emergency responders were still coordinating. Out the back entrance to the parking lot, where Dane’s truck waited. Black, heavy-duty, with tinted windows that provided privacy.
I climbed into the back seat, and Silas slid in beside me while Beau took the front passenger seat. Dane drove, pulling out of the lot with smooth efficiency.
The motion helped. Movement meant purpose, meant we were doing something instead of just waiting for my biology to overwhelm me.
But it also meant I was trapped in a truck with three alphas whose scents were wrapping around me like they’d claimed space in my senses. Cedar smoke and charcoal from Beau.Vanilla and cardamom from Silas. Leather and gunpowder from Dane. All of it mixing with my own scent until I couldn’t tell where they ended and I began.
“How far?” I asked, proud that my voice sounded relatively steady.
“Thirty minutes to the safe house,” Dane replied. “Roads are clear once we’re out of town.”
Thirty minutes. I could handle thirty minutes. Then I’d be somewhere secure where I could ride out my heat in peace and try to salvage some dignity from this disaster.
Except I wouldn’t be alone.
The realization hit me suddenly. I’d agreed to go to Dane’s safe house. With all three of them. During my heat.
“I can’t do this,” I said abruptly. “I can’t go into heat with three alphas I barely know. That’s insane. I’ll find a hotel, ride it out alone like I always do.”
