Isla’s POV~
I sat on the edge of the table in the exam room, my feet dangling.
They looked pale.
Too pale.
There were bruises on my ankles, finger-shaped bruises where Slade had held me down.
I stared at them.
The door opened.
I flinched, pulling the thin hospital gown tighter around my shoulders.
I expected a nurse.
Or maybe one of the brothers.
But it was a woman.
She looked tired.
She had short brown hair that was greying at the temples, and heavy, circular glasses that magnified her eyes.
She wore a white coat.
She wasn’t beautiful, but she looked…
kind.
In a worn-out way.
She didn’t sit behind the desk.
She pulled a stool over and sat right in front of me.
Her knees almost touched mine.
“Hello, Isla,” she said.
Her voice was low, and raspy.
Like she’d been smoking for twenty years.
“I’m Dr.
Reeves.”
I stared at her.
I couldn’t speak.
She looked at me.
Her eyes dropped to my neck, to the bite marks that were scabbing over.
She didn’t look disgusted.
She looked sad.
“How are you feeling?” she asked gently.
I tried to swallow.
It hurt.
“Like…” I started, my voice cracking.
I cleared my throat.
“Like I got hit by a truck.”
Dr.
Reeves nodded.
She didn’t write it down.
She just kept looking at me with that soft, heavy gaze.
“That’s normal,” she said.
“After a traumatic first shift.
Your body has been through a war.
The adrenaline is crashing, and the healing process is starting.
It hurts like hell.”
She reached out and patted my hand.
Her skin was warm.
“I’ll be taking care of you from now on.
Just call me Dr.
Reeves.
Or Sarah, if you prefer.”
I pulled my hand away.
I didn’t want to be touched.
“Okay,” I whispered.
Dr.
Reeves didn’t seem offended.
She pulled a tablet out of her pocket and tapped the screen.
The blue light illuminated her face, making her look ghostly.
She scrolled through the notes, her brow furrowing deeper.
My stomach dropped.
This was bad.
“Is it…” I started, my hands trembling in my lap.
I clenched them into fists to hide it.
“Is it bad?
The…
the damage?”
Dr.
Reeves stopped scrolling.
She looked up, taking her glasses off to rub the bridge of her nose.
When she put them back on, her eyes were hard.
“Isla,” she said, her voice was blunt.
“Your body shows signs of chronic abuse.
I’m talking years.
Malnutrition.
Dehydration.
Repeated blunt force trauma.”
She swiped the screen and turned it toward me.
I didn’t look at the charts.
I looked at her face.
“Your wolf is present,” she continued, “but she’s fragile.”
“Fragile?” I repeated.
The word felt stupid in my mouth.
“Weak,” Dr.
Reeves clarified, leaning in.
“Smaller than she should be.
Stunted.
Your body didn’t have the resources to develop her properly because you were starving.
Literally and figuratively.”
I felt a cold sweat break out on the back of my neck.
“So…
what?
She’s sick?”
“She’s starving,” Dr.
Reeves said. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
“And now, she’s been forced into a high-stress situation.
The shift, the mate bond…
it’s a lot for a healthy wolf.
For yours?
It’s like putting a newborn baby in a boxing ring.”
I looked down at my hands.
The silver scabs were glowing faintly.
“I just want them to go away,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
“I want to reject them.
I have to.”
Dr.
Reeves sighed.
“Isla, under normal circumstances, I’d say take all the time you need to process the mate bond.
Grieve.
Heal.
Make a decision when you’re ready.”
She paused.
“But these aren’t normal circumstances,” she finished.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
A chill ran down my spine.
Dr.
Reeves put the tablet down.
She took my hand again, and this time, I let her hold it.
Her grip was firm.
“Rejecting a mate bond is traumatic even for healthy wolves.
It’s like tearing out a part of your soul,” she explained.
“For you?
With your wolf in this condition?”
She shook her head slowly.
“It could be fatal.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“Fatal?”
“Your wolf is already weak,” Dr.
Reeves said, her eyes locking onto mine.
“The pain of severance, the shock of tearing the bond apart, could kill her.
And because you are human, and the bond is what’s keeping your systems regulated right now…
it would kill you, too.”
My breath hitched.
“You’re saying…
you’re saying I can’t reject them?”
Dr.
Reeves squeezed my hand.
Her expression was agonizingly gentle.
“I’m saying if you try right now, you might not survive the night.
You need to heal first.
You need to eat.
You need to get stronger.
Let your wolf stabilize.”
She leaned in closer, her voice dropped to a whisper.
“Then you can make decisions about the bond.
But not today.
Not while you’re this broken.”
I stared at her.
The tears I’d been holding back burned my eyes.
“And if I don’t want to wait?” I asked with my voice small.
“What if I just want it to stop?
What if I hate them?”
Dr.
Reeves didn’t even flinch.
“Then I’ll be signing your death certificate.”
The air in the room suddenly changed before the door even opened.
Dr.
Reeves froze.
Her hand hovered over the tablet.
She looked toward the door, her expression shifting from concern to caution.
The door swung open.
They didn’t walk in one by one.
They filled the frame.
All four of them.
Shoulder to shoulder.
Brock was first.
He moved with that predatory grace, his eyes scanning the room.
He looked calm, but I could see the tension in his jaw.
Slade was right behind him.
He didn’t look at the doctor.
He looked at me.
His eyes were dark, dilated, fixed on me like I was the only thing in the world.
Colt sauntered in third.
He was leaning against the doorframe, one hand in his pocket.
That infuriating smirk was plastered on his face, but his eyes were cold.
Maddox was last.
He closed the door behind them, shutting out the hallway.
He looked…
wrecked.
His hair was messy, like he’d been running his hands through it.
The room felt smaller.
Dr.
Reeves slowly stood up.
She cleared her throat, adjusting her glasses.
“Alphas,” she said.
“Welcome.
I’ve just finished explaining Miss Isla’s condition—”
“We heard,” Brock said.
He didn’t even look at her.
He was staring at the bruises on my neck.
The room went dead silent.
My eyes narrowed.
“You were listening?”
Slade didn’t flinch.
He took a step toward the bed.
“We are your mates.
Of course we were listening.”
“That’s a violation of privacy,” I snapped.
“You can’t just eavesdrop on my medical appointments!”
Colt laughed.
He pushed off the wall and walked toward me, stopping just out of reach.
“But we don’t care.”
I wanted to throw the tablet at his head.
I glared at him.
“How much did you hear?”
Maddox moved then.
He walked past Brock, ignoring his brother’s warning look.
He stopped at the foot of the bed, looking devastated.
“Enough,” Maddox said softly.
“Isla, your wolf—”
“Is my problem!” I cut him off.
Brock shook his head.
He stepped forward, invading my personal space.
He was so tall he blocked out the light.
“No.
It’s our problem now.”
The Alpha command in his tone hit me hard.
My wolf perked up.
She wanted to roll over and show her belly.
I shoved her back down viciously.
I rolled my eyes, trying to look bored, but my hands were shaking.
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“The bond isn’t an accident, Isla,” Maddox added, his voice pleading.
He reached out, hovering his hand over my knee but not touching.
“It’s fate.”
Slade’s eyes were locked on my face, burning holes into me.
“The Goddess doesn’t make mistakes.”
“The Goddess is a bitch!” I snarled.
“And you’re all insane!”
Colt laughed out loud.
He clapped his hands together.
“Oh, I like you.
Feisty.”
I eyed him.
“I don’t like any of you.
I want you out.”
Colt leaned in, his face inches from mine.
“Yet,” he whispered.
He winked at me.
“Nothing will change my mind about accepting you,” I insisted.
Slade stepped forward.
He moved so fast I didn’t see him until he was right in front of me.
He grabbed the sides of the exam table, caging me in.
His face was inches from mine.
I could smell the mint on his breath.
“Listen to me,” he said, his voice was low and dangerous.
“I will never allow you to reject us.
You’re ours.
You have always been ours.
We were just too stupid to realize it.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to—” I started, but he cut me off.
“I got every right!” Slade snarled.
“You’re ours!
You hear me?
You can bully us back.
Make us beg.
Make us your toys.”
He leaned closer, his lips brushing my ear.
The heat coming off him was suffocating.
“Spread our legs for you, Isla,” he whispered.
“Use us.
Fuck us back.
Make us your slaves if that’s what it takes to keep you.
I don’t care.
I’ll get on my knees and worship you every night if you just stay.
But you are not leaving.”
My face burned.
I had no words.
This asshole was offering himself up as a victim.
And God help me, a dark part of me wanted to take him up on it.
“Wait,” Maddox said suddenly.
Everybody turned to look at him.
He slowly moved toward me, pushing Slade back with a look.
He knelt beside the bed and took my hand.
His palm was rough, but his touch was gentle.
“She doesn’t have to decide right now,” Maddox said, looking up at me with those soulful, puppy-dog eyes.
“But please…
you shouldn’t forget that you owe me.”
“Maddox,” Brock warned.
“Let me finish!” Maddox snapped, not looking at his brother.
He turned back to me, his thumb stroking the back of my hand.
“Have you forgotten?
When I saved you from Bella and her friends?
I stopped them from killing you, Isla.”
My breath hitched.
“Please, Isla,” Maddox whispered, his voice breaking.
“Don’t forget that.
Stay in the pack.
Heal.
And…
please don’t reject us yet.
Just give us a chance to fix this.”