"Where did Trinity go?" he asked, his voice a low growl. "After she attacked you. Where did she go?"
"I... I don't know. I passed out... woke up and she was gone..." Daphne's face crumpled. "I'm sorry. I should have been more careful. I should have?—"
"Don't." The word came out sharper than I intended, and I softened my voice immediately. "Don't you dare apologize. This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault."
"He's right," Oliver said firmly. "You did nothing wrong. Trinity is the one who—" A sound from outside cut him off. Sirens, getting closer. The ambulance.
"I'll flag them down," Micah said, already moving. The next few minutes were a blur of paramedics and questions and medical equipment. They loaded Daphne onto a stretcher, started an IV, asked about symptoms and timelines and possible substances. I answered what I could, my voice sounding strange and distant to my own ears.
I didn't want to let go of her hand. I held on until they made me, until they loaded her into the ambulance and the doors started to close.
"I'm riding with her," I said. It wasn't a request.
The paramedic hesitated, then nodded. "Family?"
"Pack," I said, and something in my voice must have convinced him, because he stepped aside and let me climb in. The others would follow in the cars. I knew that. I knew they'd be right behind us, that we'd face whatever came next together. But right now, in this moment, I needed to be with her. Needed to hold her hand and tell her it was going to be okay, even if I wasn't sure I believed it.
"Levi?" Daphne's voice was thin, reedy, but her eyes were open again, finding mine.
"I'm here." I squeezed her hand. "I'm not going anywhere."
"I was so scared..." A tear slipped down her cheek. "I thought... I thought I was going to die. And all I could think about was..."
"What?" I leaned closer. "What were you thinking about?"
"You. All of you." Her breath hitched. "I kept thinking about how I never got to... we never got to..." She trailed off, her eyes fluttering closed again.
"Got to what, sweetheart? Daphne?" I asked glancing at her but she was unconscious again, her hand limp in mine, and all I could do was hold on and pray as the ambulance raced toward the hospital.
The waiting room was too bright and too quiet and too full of other people's grief. I sat in a hard plastic chair, elbows on my knees, head in my hands. Garrett paced the length of the room like a caged animal. Micah sat rigid and still, staring at nothing, his mind clearly working through scenarios and possibilities and plans. Oliver was on the phone with Sheriff Morrison, his voice low and tightly controlled.
Trinity was in custody. That was something, at least. She'd been found wandering the woods near Daphne's cabin, disoriented and ranting, blood under her fingernails. Daphne's blood. The thought made me want to vomit.
She'd attacked our omega. Poisoned her, then attacked her when she was too weak to properly defend herself. And Daphne—stubborn, fierce, incredible Daphne—had still managed to fight back. Had scratched and clawed and bitten until Trinity fled.
If we'd gotten there any later... I couldn't think about that. Couldn't let myself go down that road.
"Family of Daphne Evens?" I was on my feet before the doctor finished speaking, the others right beside me.
"That's us," Oliver asked, worry clear in his voice and stance as he stood next to the doctor, "How is she?"
The doctor—a tired-looking beta woman with kind eyes—consulted her clipboard. "She's stable. The substance she ingested was a synthetic compound we don't see often—similar to what's sometimes called 'omega's bane' on the black market. It's designed to mimic heat sickness symptoms, but in higher doses, it can cause cardiac arrhythmia, respiratory depression, and organ damage."
My stomach dropped. "Is she... will she be okay?"
"She's lucky you found her when you did. Another hour or two, and we might be having a very different conversation." The doctor's expression softened. "As it is, we've administered theappropriate treatment, and she's responding well. She's awake and asking for you." The relief that flooded through me was so intense my knees nearly buckled. Garrett's hand landed on my shoulder, steadying me, and I realized he was shaking too.
"Can we see her?" Micah asked, has hands in fists next to his sides. He was trying to keep it together.
"Two at a time, for now. She needs rest, but she was very insistent." A small smile crossed the doctor's face. "She said something about 'her alphas' needing to see she was okay or they'd tear the hospital apart."
Despite everything, I laughed. That was so perfectly Daphne.
"Go," Oliver said to me and Garrett. "We'll wait." I didn't need to be told twice. The room was small and sterile, full of beeping machines and the antiseptic smell of hospitals. Daphne was there, propped up against pillows, pale and bruised but alive. So beautifully, miraculously alive.
"Hey," she said, her voice hoarse. "Took you long enough." I crossed the room in three strides and gathered her into my arms as gently as I could manage, mindful of the IV and the monitors and her injured body.
"Don't ever do that to me again," I said against her hair. "I thought... Daphne, I thought..."
