Chapter Four: Wounds That Never Healed

Emma's hands didn't shake as she snapped on fresh gloves. They couldn't. Not now. Not when every second mattered. She'd spent five years building walls around her heart, learning to be Dr. Adams instead of just Emma, the rejected mate. But all that careful distance threatened to shatter as the ambulance sirens grew louder.

The trauma bay doors burst open with a bang that made her wolf flinch. Paramedics wheeled in the gurney, their voices clipped with urgency. "Male, multiple lacerations, possible chemical exposure—"

The words faded to white noise the moment she saw him. Steve Kane lay unconscious, his proud features twisted in pain. Blood soaked through his torn shirt, turning the fabric from navy to black. That same wrong chemical scent clung to his wounds, stronger now, more potent. Someone had wanted to make sure the Alpha didn't survive this attack.

"Start two large-bore IVs," Emma ordered, her doctor's training taking over where her emotions threatened to fail. Her voice remained steady, betraying none of the turmoil beneath. "CBC, chem panel, blood cultures. And get me a tox screen. I want to know exactly what we're dealing with."

Sarah appeared at her side, already hanging fluids with practiced efficiency. Her friend's quick glance spoke volumes: This is him, isn't it? The one who broke you? But she said nothing, professional to the core.

Emma forced herself to focus on the wounds, not the face that still haunted her dreams. The gashes across his chest mirrored the previous victim's—precise, deliberate. Hunting wounds. But these were deeper, meant to kill rather than just injure. The edges were burned black, the poison spreading visibly through his veins like dark lightning.

"Temp's 106.4," Sarah reported, her voice tense. "BP 70/40. Whatever this is, it's working faster than with the last one."

Higher fever than the last wolf. The poison was stronger, specially formulated for an Alpha. Emma's hands moved to the worst laceration, letting her weakened healing magic probe the injury. The same acidic resistance fought back, but this time she was prepared. She could feel the molecular structure, the way it targeted their supernatural essence.

"Where?" The word was barely a whisper, but Emma's enhanced hearing caught it. Steve's eyes flickered open, glowing Alpha-red despite his condition. Even poisoned and broken, power rolled off him in waves. "Where am I?"

"Seattle Grace Hospital." Emma kept her voice clinical. Professional. She couldn't let him see how his presence made her wolf howl with confused longing and rage. "You've been poisoned with a modified form of wolfsbane. Try not to move."

Recognition blazed across his face, followed by something that looked painfully like hope. "Emma?" He tried to sit up, setting off every monitor in a cacophony of alarms. "Emma, you're—"

"Currently trying to save your life," she cut him off, pushing him back down with more force than strictly necessary. "So lie still and let me work."

His hand caught her wrist, his touch sending unwanted sparks through her skin. Five years hadn't dulled that electric connection, that cursed echo of what they should have been. "The hunters... they found us. Rochester warehouse... my pack..."

"BP's dropping!" Sarah's warning cut through the tension like a blade. "He's going into shock!"

Emma yanked her hand free, ignoring the way her skin burned where he'd touched her. "He's crashing. Push one of epi. Now!"

"Emma, please." Steve's voice cracked, all Alpha authority stripped away by pain and desperation. Something in her chest twisted at the sound. "I'm sorry. For everything. I shouldn't have—"

His words dissolved into violent coughing. Blood speckled his lips, too dark to be normal. The poison was reaching his heart.

"Out," Emma ordered the other staff, her tone brooking no argument. "Sarah, stay. And get me activated charcoal. We need to bind this toxin before it spreads further."

The moment the room cleared, Emma pressed her hands to Steve's chest, letting her healing magic flow freely. The poison fought back viciously, but she could feel its pattern now. It wasn't just modified wolfsbane—it was engineered specifically to target their kind, to unravel the bonds that held wolf packs together.

"The last victim," she said through gritted teeth, sweat beading on her forehead as she fought the darkness in his veins, "mentioned the Rochester warehouse. What were you doing there?"

"Tracking... the hunters." Each word seemed to cost him dearly, his face contorted with effort. "They have a lab. Creating poisons... targeting pack bonds. Weaken the Alpha... weaken the pack. Make us... vulnerable."

Emma's magic faltered as understanding hit. Pack bonds. Like mate bonds. No wonder her healing felt weakened—the poison was designed to attack the very essence of what made them wolves, the sacred connections that bound them together.

"Emma." Steve's eyes locked onto hers, suddenly clear despite the fever. The red glow faded, leaving behind the forest-green she remembered. "I know I have no right to ask anything of you. But my pack... they're vulnerable. The hunters will come for them next. I need—"

"Don't." Emma pushed more magic into the wounds, watching the poison reluctantly retreat from his vital organs. "Whatever you're about to ask, the answer is no. You lost the right to ask anything of me five years ago."

"You're the only one who can help." His hand found hers again, burning hot with fever. The touch sent unwanted memories cascading through her mind—dreams of a future that had shattered like glass. "The only one with both medical knowledge and healing magic. Please. I'll beg if I have to."

The monitors steadied as the worst of the poison yielded to her magic. Emma stepped back, stripping off her gloves with more force than necessary. She couldn't bear to look at him, to see the mix of pain and pleading in those familiar eyes.

"Start the charcoal," she told Sarah, who had been quietly monitoring the situation. "Watch for signs of respiratory distress. I'll be back to check his levels in an hour."

"Emma, wait." Steve's voice was stronger now, though still rough with pain. "At least give me a chance to explain. To make things right."

She paused at the door, her back to him. The broken mate bond ached in her chest, a constant reminder of that night five years ago when he'd chosen status over love. When he'd broken not just their bond, but her belief in destiny itself.

"You're my patient, Mr. Kane. Nothing more. Try to rest."

She walked out before he could respond, her steps quick and measured. Professional. The perfect doctor's exit. Her white coat felt like armor, protecting her from the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her carefully constructed new life.

It wasn't until she reached the empty stairwell that she allowed herself to lean against the wall, her carefully maintained composure cracking like thin ice. The wolf inside her whimpered, torn between old pain and instinctive concern for pack.

Her pager buzzed—another trauma incoming. Emma straightened, pushing everything back behind her professional walls. She had a job to do, lives to save. She couldn't afford to drown in old wounds.

But Steve's words echoed in her mind: The hunters will come for them next.

The pack she'd left behind. The people she'd once sworn to heal and protect. The family she'd abandoned when she fled her broken dreams.

The door above her banged open. "Dr. Adams!" Sarah's voice was urgent. "His fever's spiking again. And... there's something else. Two more victims just arrived. Same wounds. They're asking for the Alpha."

Emma closed her eyes for one brief moment, letting out a shaky breath. Then she pushed off the wall, her decision already made.

Some oaths ran deeper than broken bonds. Some duties transcended personal pain.

She was still a healer, after all. Even if she'd never be whole again.