Chapter 4

"Stop looking at me like that, Juniper."

I stabbed my fork into my salad, avoiding my best friend's wide eyed stare. We sat in the hospital cafeteria during lunch break, and she hadn't stopped gawking at me for the past ten minutes.

"Wait, so let me get this straight." Juniper leaned forward, her curly red hair falling over her shoulder. "You woke up one morning and became a super surgeon by magic? Just like that? Poof?"

"I'm being honest, Juniper. I don't know what happened." I pushed the lettuce around my plate. "One minute I'm completely lost, crying my eyes out over Derek. The next minute I'm performing one of the most complex surgeries in cardiothoracic medicine. It was like someone else took control of my body. Like I was being possessed or something."

Juniper closed her eyes and held her hands up like she was performing an exorcism. "Hey, you evil spirit in my friend's body. Out. This instant. In the name of all that is holy, leave!"

"It's not funny, Juniper." But I couldn't help the small smile that tugged at my lips.

"Come on, it's a little funny." She opened one eye and peeked at me. "Maybe you're like those people in movies who get hit on the head and suddenly become geniuses."

"Nobody hit me on the head."

"Maybe you hit yourself and forgot about it. You know, because of the head hitting."

I groaned and put my head in my hands. "I'm being serious. I'm scared, Juni. What if it happens again? What if next time I mess up and kill someone?"

My phone buzzed on the table. I glanced at the screen and rolled my eyes. Another text from Derek.

"Hey, I haven't gotten a response from you about dinner. We really need to talk. I miss you."

"Let me guess," Juniper said, eyeing my expression. "Derek?"

"He's been a pain in my ass since the surgery." I shoved my phone into my pocket. "Suddenly he wants to talk. Suddenly I'm amazing and he misses me. Where was all this when I overheard him telling Tricia I was worthless?"

"Men are trash," Juniper declared, taking a big bite of her sandwich. "Especially werewolf men. They think just because they have a wolf and we're omegas, they can treat us like garbage and we'll come running back."

"Well, this omega isn't running anywhere except away from him."

"That's my girl!" Juniper high fived me across the table. "So, speaking of running toward things instead of away from them, what's the deal with Dr. Owen?"

Heat flooded my face instantly. "What? There's no deal. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh please." Juniper's grin was wicked. "The entire intern class is talking about how he couldn't take his eyes off you during the board meeting. Tricia is absolutely seething. She's been trying to get his attention for months and he barely knows she exists."

"He was probably just watching me because I was late and he was annoyed."

"Mmhmm. And that's why he called you to his office for a private meeting?" Juniper waggled her eyebrows. "Girl, spill. What happened?"

Before I could answer, the clicking of heels on linoleum made us both look up. Tricia approached our table, her face arranged in a smug smile. She wore her scrubs like they were designer clothes, somehow making the shapeless hospital uniform look fashionable.

"Well, well. If it isn't the miracle girl." Tricia stopped at our table, crossing her arms.

"What do you want, Tricia?" I didn't bother hiding my irritation.

"To make just one thing clear." She leaned down, her voice dropping to a hiss. "Dr. Owen is mine. I don't know what little trick you pulled in that meeting, but he's not interested in wolfless nobodies. So back off."

I stood up, meeting her eyes. "And Derek?"

Tricia laughed, a harsh sound. "Derek? Please. Derek was just to pass time. You think I, Patricia Weston, an alpha's daughter, would take a beta's son seriously? He was a toy. A distraction. Nothing more."

"You're disgusting," Juniper spat.

"And you're irrelevant," Tricia shot back. "Both of you. So stay away from what's mine."

"Mary."

That voice. That deep, commanding voice that made every nerve in my body stand at attention. We all turned to see Dr. Owen approaching, his white coat billowing slightly as he walked. He looked directly at me, ignoring Tricia completely.

"I need you to check on the patient in ward seven. Mr. Morrison. Make sure his vitals are stable and review his post op medication schedule."

"Yes, sir. Right away." I tried to keep my voice steady, professional.

Tricia stepped forward, touching Dr. Owen's arm. "Dr. Owen, I was wondering if you needed any assistance with the surgery scheduled for this afternoon. I'd be happy to observe and help in any way I can."

Dr. Owen's eyes flickered to where her hand rested on his arm. His expression turned cold. "Miss Weston, if you don't get over yourself and stop this inappropriate behavior, you'll lose your internship program. Are we clear?"

Tricia's face went white, then red. She snatched her hand back. "I... yes, sir."

"Good." He turned back to me, and his expression softened just slightly. "Ward seven, Miss Hart. Now, please."

He walked away, leaving Tricia standing there looking humiliated. Juniper covered her mouth, trying not to laugh out loud.

"Oh my god," Juniper whispered. "Did you see her face?"

I couldn't help but grin. "That was pretty satisfying."

Tricia glared at both of us before spinning on her heel and storming away.

"I take back what I said," Juniper announced. "Dr. Owen is not trash. Dr. Owen is a god among men."

I was about to respond when screaming erupted from the emergency entrance. We both jumped up and ran toward the sound.

A woman burst through the automatic doors, carrying a boy who looked about twelve years old. The child's face was turning blue, his hands clawing at his throat.

"Help! Somebody help! My child is dying! Please, someone help us!"

Nurses rushed forward immediately. Dr. Stevens appeared from somewhere, taking charge.

"What happened?" A nurse asked, trying to calm the panicked mother.

"He was eating lunch and suddenly he started choking. I tried the Heimlich maneuver but nothing worked. He can't breathe. Please, please save my baby!"

The boy's lips were turning purple. His eyes rolled back. He was suffocating.

"Get me a laryngoscope," Dr. Stevens ordered. "We need to intubate. Someone page Dr. Owen."

But I was already moving. That strange feeling washed over me again, like stepping into a warm bath. The world sharpened into crystal clarity. I could see exactly what needed to be done.

My body moved on autopilot. I stepped forward, gently but firmly moving the nurse aside. "It's a complete airway obstruction. The Heimlich won't work because the object is lodged too deep. We need to perform an emergency cricothyrotomy."

"Mary, wait," Juniper grabbed my arm, but I barely felt it.

"Scalpel," I said, my voice calm and authoritative. "And a tracheostomy tube. Now."

A nurse handed me the instruments, her hands shaking. I didn't hesitate. I tilted the boy's head back, located the cricothyroid membrane with my fingers. One swift incision. The boy's mother screamed but someone held her back.

I made a small horizontal incision through the skin and membrane, inserted the tube, and secured it. The boy gasped, air rushing into his lungs. His color began returning from blue to pink.

"Oxygen," I said, and someone placed the mask over the tube.

The boy coughed, wheezed, then started breathing steadily. His eyes fluttered open, confused and scared but alive.

"Oh my god, thank you!" The mother rushed forward, sobbing. "Thank you so much! You saved his life!"

I looked down at the scalpel still in my hand. Blood covered my fingers. The strange clarity faded and I was suddenly myself again, staring in horror at what I'd just done.

What was happening to me?

I looked up and saw everyone staring. Dr. Stevens, the nurses, Juniper, other interns who'd gathered to watch. All of them looking at me like I was something impossible.

I dropped the scalpel on the instrument tray and ran. I ran through the emergency room, down the hallway, not knowing where I was going. Just needing to get away from all those eyes.

I burst through a door and found myself in a stairwell. I collapsed on the steps, my whole body shaking.

Two medical emergencies in one day. Two impossible procedures I shouldn't know how to do. This wasn't normal. This couldn't be normal.

"Mary?"

I looked up. Dr. Owen stood at the top of the stairs, his face concerned. He'd followed me.

"I don't know what's happening to me," I whispered, tears streaming down my face.

He came down the stairs slowly, like approaching a frightened animal. When he reached me, he sat down on the step beside me. Close enough that I could feel the heat of his body.

"Tell me," he said softly. "Tell me everything."