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Her words offered me a glimmer of hope, but the fear lingered in the back of my mind. I cared deeply for Cole, and I didn’t want to do anything that might strain our relationship to the point of ruining it. Especially with Noah involved. These choices no longer affected only Cole and me; they would affect Noah and any pack members close to us.
My phone rang, buzzing and skittering across the table. It was Cole. My heart skipped a beat as I answered the call.
“Hey, handsome,” I said, trying to master my voice and not let on that I had just been talking through stuff with Sylvia. “I was just thinking about you.”
“Marley,” Cole said, sounding frantic. “Travis had a bad reaction to his second injection. An ambulance is taking Trav to the hospital now. Lana’s with him. I’m on my way over there.”
My breath caught in my throat, and my body went cold and numb. Without another word, I bolted to my feet. “Oh. Oh, god, we’re on our way. Wait, we have to pay. Uh, um—”
I was starting to panic and couldn’t sort out what to do first. Sylvia plucked my phone from my hand and put it up to her ear.
“Which hospital?” she asked Cole as she pinched the phone between her ear and shoulder, fishing out her wallet from her purse and handing it to me. “Blue card,” she said to me.
I nodded, opening the wallet and grabbing the specified card. While Sylvia handled things with Cole, I paid for our meal. By the time I was done, Sylvia had already hung up.
“They’re going to the hospital back in New Middle Bluff,” she said. “We’ll take the toll roads so we can get there as quickly as possible.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Are you all right?”
“Just worried. Worried about Cole and Travis and Lana.”
Sylvia nodded. “He’ll be fine. They have protocols for this sort of thing,” she said. “Come on, let’s go.”
We rushed to the hospital, Sylvia driving with surprising speed and efficiency. The air in the car seemed to crackle with tension, and the one update Cole had texted me hadn’t eased any of it. As soon as Travis had made it to the hospital, they’d had to rush him into a trauma bay.
Driving eighty down the highway felt like moving at a snail’s pace. Even so, when we arrived at the hospital, Cole and Lana were in the lobby, waiting. Lana was pacing back and forth, her arms curled around her waist. Cole was seated, his elbows resting on his knees, his head hanging in quiet focus.
The sight of my best friend and my mate in distress tore at my heart. Cole looked so dejected, and Lana was terribly pale. When Lana turned toward the door and saw me, her face crumpled. She ran over to me, pulling me into a tight hug.
With her strength, the embrace was almost painful, but I tried to return the pressure as much as I could. “Hey,” I said softly.
“H-hey.” Her voice hitched. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’m totally freaking out.”
“I bet,” I said. “I’m sure he’s going to be okay. We just gotta stay strong and come up with our best witty quips for when he’s awake again.”
Sylvia approached us, and Lana let go of me to talk to her. I heard a hushed question about something regarding healing, but I was too focused on Cole to hear much of it. I went to sit down next to him. He looked at me and took my hand in his.
“How are you holding up?” I asked him in a hushed voice.
“Not great,” he said. “I wasn’t there when it happened. He wasn’t feeling great when he and Lana got back home from the second dose. He got a sky-high fever and started seizing. Then he had a couple of really nasty partial shifts. The doctors looked grave and couldn’t really give us a prognosis.”
“He’ll be okay,” I said. “I know he will.”
Time dragged on, each passing minute heavy with anticipation and anxiety. The waiting room felt like a vacuum of collective worry, the atmosphere thick with unspoken fears. Lana and Cole seemed to switch positions like a changing of the guard while Sylvia and I did our best to keep them calm. Cole’s agitated pacing had practically etched a trail into the linoleum floor, a physical manifestation of his restless thoughts. Beside me, Lana’s fingers tapped a nervous rhythm against the armrest, her gaze locked on the door through which the doctor would eventually emerge. Hopefully, sooner rather than later.
At long last, the door swung open, revealing the doctor’s solemn expression. My heart sank as I braced myself. The doctor’s voice was measured, his words tinged with gravity as he detailed Travis’s reaction to the serum. It hadn’t been an allergic response, which was good, but it was still a severe enough reaction that they would have to alter plans for future injections.
“In cases like this where the patient has an extensive network of shifter friends and family,” the doctor said, “we usually recommend administering the next dose after a nasty reaction in a comfortable space with those closest to the subject. Shifters, much like wolves, fare better in packs than they do on their own.”
“We’re starting a pack,” Cole said, looking over at Lana. “I can get my crew at the beach house to put a rush on finishing up repairs. We can do the next injection there with all four of us present.”
“That would work very well,” the doctor said. “Even if Travis isn’t fully transitioned, he will start feeling the pull and bond of his pack members. The more support he gets, the better.”
Lana nodded in agreement. “It would be good,” she said. “And it will help me feel a little better about the next dose, too.”
Cole’s voice broke through the tension, his determination cutting through the gloom. “We’ll do that, then,” he declared, his gaze steady as it swept across each of us. “We won’t let this stop us. But how is Travis doing now? Is he stable?”
