by West, Tara
“She is damn good.” Johnson nodded at the door when it cracked open. “She’s also my niece, so I may be biased, but she graduated top of her class.”
“This is Dr. Eilea Johnson,” Johnson said, nodding toward a young black woman, whose pretty mocha eyes stood out above her mask and surgical scrubs. “She’s been taking care of Hakon.”
As Amara started scrubbing her hands, she inhaled the strong scent of oil that wafted into the room. Was that Hakon? The sound of his labored, ragged breaths made her knees weaken again.
“How is he?” she asked the surgeon.
“Not good, I’m afraid.” Eilea pulled down her face mask, revealing a youthful, full mouth. “He has shrapnel in his skull.”
Amara nodded to Eilea. “Take me to him.”
The surgeon looked her over with an assessing stare. “Have you assisted in surgeries before?”
“Plenty.” She gave Drasko a long look before following the surgeon inside.
Her heart slammed into her ribcage at the sight. Her big, burly protector looked like an old, warn rug, and the smell of his charred skin made her so sick, she had to fight back the bile that burned her throat. He was strapped to the table with several thick, steel bands, probably for his own safety as well as the surgeon’s. Though his fur was wet and smelled strongly of soap, and he was scrubbed raw, the overpowering stench of oil still clung to him. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths while monitors attached to him beeped.
“Oh, Hakon!” she breathed, fighting hard to restrain her emotions. She rested a hand on his wide, swollen brow. Closing her eyes, she summoned her magic, searching for the cause of the swelling. She immediately found it: a flash of metal wedged inside his skull.
Her eyes flew open, and she stared across the table at the surgeon. “There is shrapnel behind his left eye.”
“I know.” The surgeon nodded to an x-ray film hanging behind her. Sure enough, the foreign object stood out on the image.
“If you can remove the shrapnel,” she said, “I can heal him.”
The surgeon’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “How?”
“What do you know of the Amaroki?” Amara asked her.
“Not much. I was briefed this morning.”
Whoa. The doctor must have had quite a shock.
“Then I’m sure you didn’t believe in magic until today.” She fought to keep emotion out of her voice when Hakon let out a pitiful moan and his nostrils flared. She hoped her scent hadn’t agitated him. Either way, she had to focus on the task at hand, which was healing Hakon while ignoring the terror that twisted her heart at the thought of losing him.
“Honestly, I still don’t believe it.” The surgeon rolled her eyes. “My whole world has been science.”
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to steady her breathing through a constricting throat. “Get that shrapnel out, and I’ll make you a believer.”
SURGERY ON HAKON TOOK way too long. Amara had a hard time concentrating with the terrified anesthesiologist trembling behind her like a leaf in a wind storm. After kicking the anesthesiologist out of the room, she managed to heal Hakon’s gash and repair the damage to his brain. Healing a large protector took a lot of energy, and she was exhausted by the time Hakon’s breathing steadied. She hadn’t had a chance to heal the burns all over his body, but that would have to wait until she ate and drained the milk from her sore boobs. She imagined Rone would be out of bottles soon anyway.
After stripping off her scrubs and cleaning up, she trudged into the waiting room, right into Drasko’s arms. Her mates’ fathers, mother, and sister were there, anxiously awaiting news. Collective cheers ensued when she told them Hakon would survive. It was then that it hit her how close she’d come to losing him. Her legs weakened at the thought. Drasko helped lower her onto a chair, and she took her hungry baby in her arms, draping a blanket over him while he nursed. Smoothing a hand across his soft cheek, she rocked him while humming a lullaby, thankful he was no longer upset. The tantrum he’d thrown earlier must have been in response to Hakon’s accident, which meant Hrod had been watching his daddy. Her baby certainly was a blessing from the Ancients, though she couldn’t wait until he could talk, so he could tell them when he saw something instead of scaring everyone with a screaming meltdown.
She exhaled slowly while he relieved the pressure in her breast. One more breast to go, and then she’d pump the excess milk into bottles so she could return to Hakon and heal his burns. If she didn’t pass out from exhaustion first.
Chapter Two
Two cheeseburgers and a two-hour nap later, Amara was back inside Hakon’s room. He was still in protector form. His eye sockets looked less hollow and shadowed, and his furry face less pale. She lightly ran her hands over his burns, smiling when they vanished and soft patches of fuzz grew back over the wounds. Dr. Johnson sat beside her, quietly observing her work. After several hours, she left Hakon with a few nervous nurses. She needed fresh air after smelling blood and burned flesh all evening.
She sat on the porch steps, looking up at the starry sky and breathing in the cool summer air mixed with the scents of hay and horse manure. After her mates had taken her from the place she’d once called work and home, she never thought she’d come back. The horses neighed when they saw her, swishing their tails and demanding attention. She went to them and leaned against a weathered fence post, enjoying stretching her tense muscles while rubbing their necks.
She spun around at the sound of a low, frantic bark and was overcome with a mixture of joy and sadness when Max, the German shepherd, rushed to her side. She knelt beside him, alternating between laughing and crying while he plastered her face with kisses.
“Hello, Max.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and stroked his back. “I’ve missed you, too, buddy.”
He continued to shower her with attention, tail wagging fiercely while he licked her face and gave voice to small anxious sounds. She led him back to the porch and sat on the steps beside him, hugging him hard, but nothing she did seemed to calm him.
“Hey, buddy,” she said, throat tightening with emotion. “It’s okay.”
After her whirlwind courtship, she’d done her best to put her old life out of her mind, but now she felt ten shades of selfish, because her old life had obviously not forgotten about her. Though Max had been Dr. Tanner’s dog, it was Amara who’d taken care of him and given him love, treating him like a member of her pack. Dr. Tanner was always too exhausted by the end of the day to spend time with Max. She realized it had been a mistake to assume the dog would get over her. She was his mommy, and she’d left him, taking his siblings with her. Her yellow Lab, Buster, had been Max’s best friend and playmate.
She placed a hand on his chest, trying to soothe him with her healing magic, then gasped when she felt the chasm in his heart. Had her leaving done this? She sent her healing magic into him, whispering comforting words into his ear. Eventually, he calmed down enough to snuggle halfway on her lap. Leaning against the porch railing, she stroked him while looking at the night sky.
Max crawled higher, crushing her legs with his weight, but she wouldn’t complain. He needed her, and she realized she needed him, too. Holding him quieted her frayed nerves after the stress of almost losing Hakon. Silent tears fell as she petted the dog, wishing Max was hers. She wondered who was taking care of him now that she was gone. When she felt the protruding ribs on his sides, she had her answer. She decided Max would be coming home with her, and she didn’t give a damn what her mates or Dr. Tanner had to say about it.
The back door opened with a creak, and Amara peered over her shoulder at Dr. Johnson, who was carrying two bottled waters. She’d changed from her scrubs into jeans and a light sweater. She was pretty, perhaps in her late twenties or early thirties, with olive skin and dark hair slicked back in a tight bun. She sat on the steps beside Amara, holding out a bottle with a smile.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, wiping her tear-stained face. She took the water and wordlessly drank
until she’d emptied the bottle. Crushing the plastic, she set it beside her and returned to petting Max.
“Is everything okay?” Dr. Johnson asked.
Max’s tail thumped when she scratched behind his ears. “Did you know I used to work here?”
“That’s what my uncle said.”
“Max was like one of my dogs.” Her chest tightened, and she had to pause to will back the tears and catch her breath. “I feel terrible, because he’s missed me.”
“Is there any way you can take him with you?” the doctor asked.
“Oh, I’m taking him.” She stiffened, wrapping a possessive arm around Max. “I don’t give a damn what anyone says.”
“Good. If you need help, I’ll back you.” She leaned over, petting Max’s head. The dog pressed his nose into Amara’s jeans. “It’s clear you belong together.”
Amara had known she’d like Dr. Johnson the moment she met her, but now she liked her even more. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“Please call me Eilea.” She beamed. “No need for formalities. I’m amazed by your abilities.”
She shrugged. “Thanks.”
“How did you...?”
“I was blessed by the Ancients.”
“The Ancients?” Eilea had a look in her eyes, like the one Buster got whenever he was unsure of the origin of his fart.
“Our gods,” she said with a laugh. Clearly Agent Johnson hadn’t told her everything.
Eilea’s eyes widened. “I’ve never been into religion, but you’ve made me a believer.”
“I was never into religion either,” she said, “but I’ve met our gods and witnessed many miracles.”
“Wow.” Eilea straightened, shaking her head. “My uncle tells me there’s a man inside Hakon.”
“There is,” she answered, glancing at the back door. Her mate would wake soon, and she needed to be there when it happened.
“And that you and the other Amaroki can turn into wolves.” The way Eilea said it, Amara knew she was still having a hard time believing it.
“We can.”
Eilea let out a low whistle. “I’d like to see that someday.”
“I’m sure you will once Hakon wakes. By the way, thank you so much for everything you’ve done for him.” Amara took a chance and rested a hand on Eilea’s arm, pleased when she didn’t flinch in fear.
Eilea placed a hand over Amara’s, squeezing and smiling affectionately. “What I did was nothing compared to what you did.” She expelled a long breath. “I’m still having a hard time with this.”
“I know what you mean. I was raised by humans. I didn’t even know I was different until I hit puberty.” Amara chuckled. “Believe me, that was quite a shock.”
“So you weren’t raised on the reservation?” Eilea pulled back, gaping at Amara. “I thought all Amaroki were.”
“We usually were, but I was what is called a lone wolf.” Though it had only been a year, it felt like a lifetime ago that Amara was sleeping in a moldy trailer and collecting loose change to feed herself and her dogs.
When Max nuzzled Amara’s palm, she realized she’d stopped scratching. She began rubbing his ears again.
“How did you end up here?” Eilea asked.
She smiled, recalling the day she’d seen Luc in the clinic waiting room, demanding a private audience. She’d been terrified, and not just of him, but of her reaction to him. His scent had made her cream her undies. “One of my mates found me.”
Eilea arched a brow. “Luc?”
“Yeah. Your uncle told you about him?”
“My uncle talks about him the most. He says Luc can pick up scents from four hundred miles away. I get the feeling he’s like a son to him.”
Amara thought she heard a twinge of jealousy in Eilea’s voice. “Luc’s pretty awesome.” Her heart clenched when she recalled her handsome tracker’s devastating smile. He’d come and gone three times since Hrod was born. Agent Johnson sent him on so many missions, she’d lost track of the time they were apart. Perhaps that was part of her survival instinct, to ignore the widening chasm in her heart when he was away.
“And he’s one of your four mates, right?”
The way Eilea emphasized the word four, she couldn’t tell if the doctor was repulsed or curious.
“That’s right.” She remembered how horrified she’d been when she first learned she would be mated to four wolf brothers. Now she didn’t know what she’d do without her handsome shifters.
“I’m not sure how you handle all of them.” Eilea shook her head. “I don’t even have time for one.”
“You’re single then?” She was a little shocked that someone as smart and pretty as Eilea would be alone.
“Definitely. My uncle has asked me to run the tribe hospital, so I won’t have time for love anyway.”
“You’ve accepted?” Rone told her the old Amaroki clinic had been empty for years.
“You sound shocked.”
She frowned. “It’s going to be a lonely job.” The elderly physician who’d retired five years earlier had no family. Rone said he’d lived among the Amaroki for forty years, but being human, he wasn’t accepted into the fold, always an outsider looking in—kind of like Agent Johnson. What a desolate life.
The smile Eilea flashed looked forced. “I doubt it. I’m sure the Amaroki will keep me busy, and you and I will get to work together again.”
“That’s not what I mean. You won’t be able to marry and have a family.”
Eilea jerked back as if she’d been scalded. “Who said I want to marry and have a family?”
“I don’t know. I just thought....” She felt ten shades of stupid for even mentioning a family to Eilea. She thought that’s what human women wanted.
“I work best as a loner, like my uncle.” Whenever Eilea mentioned her uncle, Amara thought she heard regret.
“I’m thirty-three and set in my ways,” Eilea continued. “Besides, I don’t want to take the chance.”
Amara’s breath hitched when Eilea hung her head. Something bad had happened to her.
She reached for Eilea again, laying a hand on her arm. “What chance?” she asked softly, afraid she was pushing the doctor too far.
“Of losing another family,” the doctor whispered, her eyes going hollow.
She felt the doctor’s pulse quicken under her as a vortex of depression and grief swirled through her like a tornado. “You lost your family?”
Eilea shot her a sideways look through glossy eyes. “I lost my parents and brother to a drunk driver when I was ten and then my gran to a heart attack two years ago.”
“I’m so sorry.” Amara squeezed her arm, not knowing what else to say. She let her healing magic drip from her fingers into the doctor.
With a silent nod, Eilea turned to the sky as the clouds slipped past the half moon.
She struggled with what to say next, though she knew exactly how Eilea felt after losing both grandparents by age eleven, being shuffled around in foster care, then finally getting stuck at her uncle’s house, only to be used as their underpaid nanny and housekeeper.
A thunderous roar came from inside the hospital, so loud it shook the wooden planks under them. Holy shit, Hakon was waking up.
Max shot up, ears pricked.
Two terrified nurses ran out the back door, shrieking as they raced around the building without a backward glance.
Eilea’s hands flew to her mouth. “Omigod.”
Amara jumped to her feet, holding a hand down to her. “Don’t worry.” She forced a smile as an even more powerful roar shook the marrow of her bones. “He’s a gentle giant.” At least, she sure as hell hoped so.
HAKON THRASHED AGAINST his restraints. Drasko and Tor had shifted into protectors and were holding him down. Amara knew better than to get between fighting protectors, —a lesson she’d learned the hard way last fall after she was injured trying to break up a fight between Tor and Drasko and inadvertently caused Drasko’s banishment.
“Hakon, my l
ove,” she called from the doorway. “Calm down, you’re okay.”
Hakon instantly stilled. “Amara,” he said groggily. “What happened?”
She tentatively stepped toward the foot of the bed, stopping when Drasko issued a warning growl. “There was an explosion on the field. You were badly injured.”
“Fuck.” Hakon groaned, going limp and falling back against the table.
Drasko and Tor eased up as Hakon’s eyes opened.
When Drasko waved her forward, she rushed to Hakon’s side. “How are you feeling?”
“Like my head was split open by an axe,” he grumbled. His eyes were glassy, which meant the drugs hadn’t entirely worn off.
“It sort of was.” She kissed his brow, silently thanking the Ancients for Hakon’s recovery. “But you’re looking a lot better now.”
“Where am I?” he asked, the pupils in his yellow eyes contracting as he looked up at the bright overhead lights.
“At my old animal hospital,” she said.
He blinked several times. “An animal hospital?” He held a furry hand in front of his face.
“Hakon,” Tor said, hovering over his son, “you were injured in protector form.”
“Shit,” Hakon groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “The cameras.”
“Johnson is taking care of it,” Tor said.
“And my men?” Hakon asked, lower lip trembling.
Tor clasped his son’s shoulder. “They all lived, thanks to your bravery.”
“I want to go home,” Hakon growled, sounding like the angry, warrior protector who uprooted trees and flipped over cars.
“You need to rest,” Amara said, placing a hand on his broad chest, hoping her magic would calm his frayed nerves.
“Fuck that,” he grumbled, straining against the straps that bound him to the table. “I’ll rest in my own bed.”
There was a gasp behind her, and she turned to see Eilea, eyes wide with fright.
“The first thing you need to learn about the Amaroki is that the alphas are stubborn.” Amara forced a laugh, turning back to Hakon. “Very stubborn.”