7

7

By the time Lotty finally stepped away from the trauma bay, her legs felt like they didn’t belong to her anymore.

It had been one of those shifts that blurred into a single, endless stretch of blood, voices, and movement. One patient barely stabilized before the next one came through the doors. Wounds that shouldn’t exist. Injuries that told stories no one wanted to say out loud.

And through all of it, she worked. Not observing. Not hovering. Working. By mid-afternoon, even Dr. Hensley had stopped trying to sideline her.

“Clamp,” he snapped during one case. Lotty handed it to him before the nurse even moved. “Pressure here.” Already done. “Get me…”

“On your left,” she said, placing it directly into his hand.

He paused once, just once, glancing at her with something that wasn’t resentment anymore. Recognition. Respect. It wasn’t spoken.It didn’t need to be.

By the end of the shift, the tension in the ER had shifted just enough. Not gone, but different. The staff still watched her, still measured her but now there was something else layered in. Trust. Or at least the beginning of it.

Lotty peeled off her gloves at the end of the last case, her hands aching, her shoulders tight. She scrubbed in silence, letting the hot water run over her skin until the last trace of blood was gone. For now.

The doors opened behind her. She didn’t have to turn to know who it was. “Long day,” Matthew said.

Lotty glanced at him in the mirror. He looked just as tired as she felt but his eyes were sharper now. Focused. Calculating.

“What’s the verdict?” she asked, grabbing a towel.

Matthew crossed his arms lightly. “You made an impression.”

She huffed. “That’s one way to put it.”

“Hensley didn’t argue when I said I was taking you,” he added.

Lotty paused. That was… something. “Good,” she said simply.

Matthew nodded toward the exit. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

The drive back felt different than the one that brought her in. Still tense. Still watched. But now she was part of it.Her car followed behind again, the same warrior at the wheel. The escort hadn’t changed. Neither had the danger.

“Did you hear anything else?” she asked quietly.

Matthew shook his head. “Nothing confirmed. But the silence from Dark Mountain? That’s not good.”

“No,” Lotty agreed. “It’s not.” Silence usually meant planning. Or positioning. Or both.

They drove the rest of the way without talking, the forest pressing in close as the light faded. By the time they reached the gates, the sky had gone deep blue, the first stars barely visible through the canopy.

Security was tighter now. More guards. More eyes. More tension. The gates opened quickly for Matthew, but Lotty noticed how long the guards watched the road behind them before letting it close again.

Like they expected something to follow. Inside the pack grounds, things hadn’t slowed. If anything, they’d intensified.Warriors moved in tighter groups. Messages passed quickly between them. Vehicles came and went more frequently. The air buzzed with unease.

Matthew parked near the packhouse and cut the engine. “Adam’s still tied up,” he said. “Meetings, calls, coordination with allies.”

Lotty nodded. “Figures.”

Matthew glanced at her. “You did good today.”

She shrugged, but a small part of her held onto that. “Thanks.”

He studied her for a second, then added, “Get some rest if you can.”

Lotty gave a soft huff. “We both know that’s not happening.”

A faint smile touched his mouth. “Yeah.”

He stepped out, and she followed. The moment her feet hit the ground, she felt it again that pull, that hum of pack energy that never really left her. Stronger now. Closer. More alive.

“Go on,” Matthew said. “I’ll find Adam.” Lotty nodded and headed inside.

She had just stepped into the hallway when she felt him. Not saw. Not heard. Felt. Adam. The connection snapped into place like it had always been there, buried under years of distance and denial. She turned, and he was there at the end of the hall. Watching her.

For a second, neither of them moved. Then he walked toward her, slower this time. Measured.

“You survived your first day,” he said.

Lotty crossed her arms lightly. “Barely.”

His eyes flicked over her checking, assessing. “You’re not hurt.”

“Just tired.”

He nodded. “Good.”

Silence stretched between them for a moment. Then Lotty tilted her head slightly. “Matthew told you?”

“About Gregory?” Adam asked.

“Yeah.”

His expression hardened. “Yeah.”

“And?”

“We wait,” he said, though it clearly cost him to say it. “And we prepare.”

Lotty studied him. He looked… wound tight. Like a wire pulled too far, too long. “You haven’t shifted,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

Adam exhaled slowly. “Not since you got here.”

“Not since before that, I’m guessing.”

His jaw tightened. “Too much to do,” he said.

Lotty raised a brow. “That’s not the reason. That’s an excuse.”

A flicker of something annoyance, maybe crossed his face. Then it faded. “Maybe,” he admitted.

She stepped a little closer, lowering her voice. “You’re thinking too much.”

“That’s kind of my job.”

“Not like this,” she said. “You’re stuck in your head.”

Adam held her gaze. Then, after a beat, “You want to run?” he asked.

Lotty blinked.

“Shift,” he clarified. “Clear your head. Mine too.”

Something in her chest tightened. It had been a long time. Too long. “I wasn’t sure I still could,” she admitted quietly.

Adam’s expression softened slightly. “You can.”

She hesitated. Then nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

They didn’t go far from the packhouse. Not with everything going on. But they went far enough.

The forest wrapped around them, thick and alive, the ground soft beneath their feet. The sounds of the pack faded behind them until it was just trees, wind, and the quiet pulse of something ancient. Lotty stood still for a moment, breathing it in. This felt right.

Adam stepped back, giving her space. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said.

Lotty closed her eyes. For a second, doubt crept in. Then instinct took over. The shift came fast. Bones cracked and reshaped, muscles pulling and stretching, skin giving way to fur in a rush of heat and pressure that felt both violent and natural at the same time.

Her breath hitched. Then steadied. When her eyes opened again, the world had changed. Sharper. Brighter. Alive. Her wolf stretched forward, shaking out her body, muscles rippling with energy that had been locked away for too long. Freedom. A low, pleased rumble built in her chest.

Adam shifted beside her, his wolf larger, darker, power rolling off him in quiet waves. Alpha. He glanced at her once. Then took off. Lotty didn’t think. She ran.

The forest flew past in streaks of green and shadow, the ground a rhythm beneath her paws. Every movement felt effortless, instinct guiding her steps as she dodged trees, leapt fallen logs, and chased the wind itself.

Her wolf surged with joy. Finally. She pushed harder, faster, closing the distance between them until she ran alongside Adam, their strides matching.

For a moment there was no war. No blood. No tension. Just this. The run. The bond. The wild, unrestrained freedom of being exactly what they were.

Adam veered left suddenly, cutting through a dense patch of trees. Lotty followed without hesitation, her body responding before thought could catch up.

They ran until their lungs burned, until the tension in their bodies began to unwind, until the weight they carried started to loosen just enough to breathe again.

Eventually, Adam slowed. Lotty matched him, her sides rising and falling with steady breaths. They stopped in a small clearing, moonlight filtering through the branches above.

For a moment, neither of them shifted back. They just stood there. Wolves. Pack. Family. Lotty’s wolf padded forward slightly, circling once before settling nearby, her tail flicking with quiet contentment.

Adam’s wolf remained standing, watchful, eyes scanning the tree line even here. Always aware. Always Alpha. Lotty nudged him lightly with her shoulder.

You can relax. For a second, he didn’t.Then, slowly, he did. Just a little. Enough. The silence of the forest wrapped around them, but this time it wasn’t tense. It was grounding.

Lotty’s wolf stretched out, muscles loose, finally at ease in a way she hadn’t felt in years. We needed this, she thought. Adam’s gaze shifted to her, something softer in his eyes. Agreement.But beneath it, still there. The weight. The war. The future is pressing in from all sides.

Lotty lifted her head, ears twitching as a distant sound carried through the trees. A howl. Not theirs. Not pack. Far off. But close enough to matter. Her body went still. Adam’s wolf stiffened instantly, every line of him sharpening.

The moment shattered. The war was still there. Waiting.Watching. And now, so were they.