Twenty Six year old Blake Hunter is the Alpha of the largest pack in the region. Finding his mate is the last thing on his mind.
But, in the midst of dealing with uninvited relations, aspiring future Lunas and increasing rogue attacks on his easter...
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The surgery was located at the back of the pack house, a later addition to the original building. It housed the wards, theatre, consultation rooms and a spacious waiting room. It was all set around an enclosed courtyard where the patients from the wards were free to wander once they were allowed out of bed.
Presiding over it all was Doc, one of the oldest members of Blake's four hundred strong pack. It had to be assumed that he had once had a different name, but he had been 'Doc' for so long in his life that it was rumoured that even he had trouble recalling what that name may have been.
He had stood by Blake's side as he had been sworn in as Alpha of the Blackridge pack, just as he had stood by Avery's side when he'd subdued and claimed the pack sixty years before that. The man didn't seem to age, looking just as grizzled then as he did now, and he was waiting patiently by the door as Blake hurried through towards him.
He nodded sagely, as though his Alpha carrying what appeared to be a half-naked and unconscious girl into his consultation room was a regular occurrence. Life appeared to hold very few surprises for him these days. He ushered them through to the consultation room, waving away the curious onlookers that had gathered nearby.
"Pop her on here and let's see what we have to work with, shall we?" He bustled about, moving medical equipment around, and checking everything was where it needed to be.
Blake carefully lay her on the bed in the centre of the room and paused, one hand stroking a stray lock of hair from her face, hovering over her as though reluctant to let her go again. Doc coughed discretely behind him and he moved out of the way, retreating into the corner to watch the man work from the side-lines.
"Interesting," Doc murmured when he picked up on her unusual scent. He showed no other reaction as he continued to check her pulse and blood pressure; expertly manuvering her around to place the pads for the ECG machine, and hooking up the wires so that the steady beep-beep of her heart rate bounced around the quiet of the room.
Given the man's lack of reaction, Blake privately wondered if his old wolf was asleep. He could feel Rothan - still pacing up and down in silent agitation. Even the random pack members he passed as he'd rushed her through the village had recoiled, bared their teeth or jumped back as the scent wafted past them.
Doc's lack of reaction suggested a man with senses dulled by age... or a superb level of self control.
"How far did she walk before you found her?" Doc asked, lifting one of her feet and assessing the lacerations carefully. "These will need cleaning..." he muttered to himself.
"We don't know."
"Well, where did she come from?" He tutted at the state of her arms and legs as he moved his hands along them, swiftly checking them for broken bones, and Blake fought the irrational urge to tell him to be gentle with her.
