Chapter 8

Lucas – POV

The moment Damian stepped inside and told the nurses to back off, I felt a wave of relief roll through the room.

Finally.

She didn't need more poking. She needed space. Rest. Us.

I was just about to follow him in when his voice cut through the air like a blade.

"Out. All of you."

I blinked.

Wait, what?

He didn't even turn around—just stood at her bedside like some overgrown guard dog who'd claimed the spot and wasn't moving.

Riven snarled softly. "You can't be serious."

Kael didn't say anything, but his jaw twitched hard enough I could see the muscle clench from across the room.

And me?

I gave a sharp, humorless laugh.

"You kicking us out now?" I said, arms folded. "You forget we're in this mess too?"

Damian didn't flinch. "She needs peace. The bond hit her like a truck. She doesn't need four Alphas breathing down her neck the second she wakes up."

"She's our omega," I snapped. "Not just yours."

He finally looked at me then. His eyes were calm—but dangerous.

"I'm not claiming her," he said. "I'm protecting her. And right now, that means letting her breathe."

I opened my mouth to argue—because hell if I was going to just walk away—but Kael stepped in between us, hand on my shoulder.

"He's right," Kael muttered, low enough for just us to hear. "She's scared. She needs quiet."

I hated when Kael was right.

I looked through the glass again—at her small body curled under those thin sheets, at the way her fingers twitched like she was caught in a nightmare she couldn't wake up from.

Yeah.

Maybe we were too much right now.

But it still burned.

I growled under my breath and turned toward the door. "Fine. We'll give her peace."

Then I looked back over my shoulder.

"But the second she opens her eyes? I'm going in."

And not even Damian was going to stop me.

It was quiet.

Too damn quiet.

Even Damian had stepped out of the room now, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft finality that felt heavier than it should've.

We all stood there like idiots. Alphas—strong, lethal, dominant.

And completely fucking clueless.

No one said anything for a long time. Just... stood there. Staring at the closed door like it might open and give us a manual on what the hell we were supposed to do next.

I ran a hand down my face and dropped into one of the chairs in the hallway with a sigh.

"So..." I said, dragging the word out like it might fill the space. "What the hell do we do now?"

No answer.

Typical.

I looked up at the others. Riven was pacing like a caged animal, jaw tight, eyes still storming with that same frustration. Kael leaned against the wall, arms folded, calm on the outside, but his eyes were locked on that door like it was the only thing anchoring him. And Damian—he stood still, unreadable, arms at his sides, but there was tension in his shoulders that hadn't been there before.

"She's gonna wake up," I added, quieter this time. "Could be five minutes, could be five hours. But she will. And when she does..."

I didn't finish it.

Because we all knew.

She'd be scared out of her goddamn mind.

Whatever she ran from—whatever left her half-dead in our territory—it left a mark. You could see it. In her eyes. In the way she flinched from touch. The way her body practically folded in on itself.

And now?

Now she was bonded to four Alphas she didn't know.

Kael finally broke the silence. "We need to take this slow. She doesn't know us. Hell, she probably doesn't even understand the bond yet."

"She looked at us like we were the enemy," Riven said, stopping his pacing long enough to scowl. "Don't forget that part."

"No one's forgetting it," Damian said flatly.

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. "Do we even know where she came from?"

Kael shook his head. "No pack markers. No alliance tags. Her scent's wrong—faint, masked. Could've been running for days."

"Or weeks," Damian added, voice rough. "We won't know until she wakes up."

I exhaled and looked back at the door again.

"And when she does?" I muttered. "What if she runs again?"

No one had an answer.

Because the truth was—we could tear through armies, lead packs, survive wars.

But none of us knew how to fix a broken omega who didn't even know she belonged to us.