My hand hovers at the door for a moment before I push it open. The soft squeak of hingesalerts him to my presence, and as he turns toward me, a delicate wince crinkles his face into a beautiful canvas of fragile pain.
Tears well in his amethyst eyes, and his lower lip trembles. “Emily, you came. You’re still my Alpha.”
The title sits wrong. I am not his Alpha.
Not anymore.
I approach the bed. “What happened?”
Auren extends his bandaged wrist to me in a silent plea for contact. When I don’t take it, his fingers curl inward, and the tears spill over.
“They left me.” His throat works, shoulders hitching as he drags in a shuddering breath. “My new pack… they only wanted someone pretty to show off. A decoration to parade through their parties.”
My hands ball into fists at my sides. In the narrow confines of the hospital room, the pheromone blockers can’t quite suppress the familiar crushed violets and honeyed cream of his pheromones reaching for me.
Once, I found that scent intoxicating.
Now, it sticks in my throat like syrup.
“Mark pushed me,” he continues, clutching his bandaged wrist close. “We were arguing, and heshoved me into the wall. I hit my head, and when I tried to catch myself, I twisted my wrist.”
I study the bruise that doesn’t match his story. The discoloration sits high on his cheekbone, not at his temple, where it would be if he’d hit his head on a wall.
“The doctors say it’s a sprain,” he adds, tracking my gaze. “But it hurts so much.”
“Where are they now?” I keep my distance, remaining at the foot of the bed. “Your Alphas?”
Auren crumples. “They left me here. Dropped me off and said they couldn’t deal with this right now. Couldn’t deal with with me.”
He reaches for me again, fingers grasping at air. “You’re the only one who ever protected me, Em. The only Alpha who ever cared.”
The monitors beside his bed beep steadily, his heartbeat regular despite his display of distress. No elevated pulse. No true fear response.
“If you don’t take me home with you, I don’t know what I’ll do.” When I don’t immediately react, he whispers, “I might die without you.”
The words slide into me like a knife between my ribs. I’ve heard them before, in different forms, each time I tried to set boundaries. Each time I needed space. Each time I wanted to be a person, not just his Alpha.
“Auren—” I start, but the door swings open behind me.
Two men step in. Mark is first, tall and polished in a charcoal suit that cost more than my truck. He carries a leather satchel in one hand. Jacob follows, standing at his packmate’s shoulder.
For a moment, we stare at each other. Shock flashes across both of their faces, irritation quickly replacing it. The last time we were in a room together, they were voting me out of my own pack.
“Emily.” Mark puffs up in a show of Alpha posturing. “What are you doing here?”
“The hospital called me,” I say, keeping my distance.
His nostrils flare. “Why would they callyou? You’re not a member of this pack anymore.”
Before I can respond, a nurse bustles in to check Auren’s IV line, and she flips through her clipboard. “The police will be here soon to take statements. It’s standard procedure for potential domestic incidents.”
Jacob flinches back. “What the fu?—”
Mark holds up a hand, then smooths his tie, all easy charm. “There seems to have been a misunderstanding. Auren tripped outside the bakery while we were getting dessert. The curb caught him by surprise.”
Auren’s head snaps up, tears threatening again. “That’s not what happened! You pushed me! You said I was a burden, and you wished you’d never brought me into your pack!”
Mark’s jaw flexes, and his knuckles whiten around the handle of the satchel. “That’s not what happened, and there are witnesses who will vouch that we never touched you.”