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“I’m not convinced,” the Alpha responds. “If she can’t control her wolf, she’s a danger to everyone here. The injection needs to be given. It’s an antidote, for Christ’s sake.”
My ears prick up at that word. Injection. A chill runs through me as more memories of needles and restraints surface again. I can’t go through that again!
I pull back from Barrett, a whine working up from my throat. His hands come up to frame my face, his eyes locking with mine.
“Cedara,” he murmurs, “I’m right here. No one is going to hurt you.”
But the Alpha’s words cut through my panic. “She needs that damn antidote, Barrett. We can’t have an uncontrolled wolf running loose in Steel Lakes.”
I spin to face the Alpha. He’s standing with his arms crossed, his eyes hard. The doctor is beside him; she’s moved from her place across the room at some point. The gleaming syringe is clutched in her hand.
No more needles! No!
I growl.
“I’ll do it.” Barrett straightens, then looks down at me. “Do you trust me?”
Trust him. I trust him.
Yes.
I settle my haunches onto the floor, sitting and looking up at him. When the doctor moves this time, I don’t react again. I keep my eyes fixed on Barrett as he reaches for the syringe, then sinks down onto one knee in front of me.
“We need to do this, beautiful,” he says softly. I dip my head, trying not to wince when he gathers a handful of flesh beneath my fur. Again, I don’t react, sitting as still as I can.
I barely flinch when the needle pierces my skin. This is nothing like the careless jabs and roughness that the others had inflicted. A second later, a warmth floods through me. I feel myself sag. My nerve-endings prickle.
But that’s where it stops.
Minutes drag by, and nothing happens.
“How long is this going to take,” Jagger’s voice is tense.
“This may take some time,” the doctor says. “It was different with each of them.”
The Alpha huffs out an exasperated breath.
Barrett settles onto the floor, cross-legged beside me, and pulls my head down onto his thigh. “We’ll wait as long as it takes.”
I lie there with my head in Barrett’s lap, his strong fingers gently stroking through my fur. Despite the tense situation just moments ago, I feel a profound sense of peace and safety wash over me. His warmth coats me, comforting and reassuring, and I heave out a sigh.
We wait in silence for the antidote to take effect, for my human form to resurface. But time drags by with no change. A small crease appears between Barrett’s brows as he exchanges a glance with the doctor.
Jagger makes a noise of impatience from across the room. “We can’t just sit around indefinitely. Her family needs to be brought in on this.”
There’s a pause and then the sound of his footfalls retreating. A moment later, there are more footsteps, and the door shuts. The doctor has slipped out.
“It’s just you and me now, beautiful,” Barrett murmurs. “I’m not going anywhere.”
A shiver of contentment ripples through me at his words. Slowly, my eyes drift shut as the residual tension melts from my body. Barrett’s familiar warmth and steadiness allow me to let go, the last vestiges of fear fading.
I’m vaguely aware of time passing, of the soft cadence of Barrett’s breathing. There’s nothing else here now. Just Barrett and the quiet whisper of the air from the vents.
And then, a strange tingling begins in my extremities, like my nerves are waking up from a deep sleep. I don’t pay it much mind at first, too caught up in the hazy state between wakefulness and slumber. But the prickling intensifies, spreading upward until it reaches the very core of me.
My eyes fly open as a jolt of electricity crackles through every cell. I’m shifting before I know what’s happening, my bones crunching and reforming, my skin rippling. It’s not painful, not exactly, but it’s overwhelming in its intensity. My shifts aren’t normally so extreme; I can only imagine it’s what they injected me with. I hope that means it’s working.
I’m only dimly aware of Barrett’s arms coming around me as I’m wracked with spasms, pulling me against his chest. When it’s over, when I’m finally still again, I find myself cradled against him, my bare skin pressed to the warm strength of his body. The fabric of his shirt is rough against me.
