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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Doc was tending to a large, ugly-looking wound on Amara's upper arm when Blake and Alex carried in the weakly-protesting Issac. He'd attempted to follow the would-be assassin and had collapsed near the tree line outside.
"Is it bad?" Alex asked her.
"It's nothing," Amara scoffed, although her face was pale.
"Is that the first thing they teach you warriors?" Doc asked icily. "To make light of your injuries?" The wound was slowly healing under his administrations, but it still had a long way to go. "She's lucky," he bit out slowly, inserting another stitch into the jagged cut. "A little higher up and she might have lost the use of her arm, werewolf healing or not."
"You're in excellent humour this morning, Doc," Issac joked weakly, looking his sister over to make sure she really was alright.
Doc pointed a threatening finger at him. "Issac. Sit," he said. "I'll deal with you in a moment."
Doc was not particularly impressed that the attack had taken place in his beloved hospital - he was even less impressed by the amount of cleaning up there was to do in the aftermath. His manner had been as stern as any of them had ever seen him, especially once it they'd discovered that several key pieces of equipment had been damaged during the attack.
Once he'd found out one of his nurses was injured, he'd been positively irate.
"They were after Hannah," Amara informed them, wincing at a particularly rough stitch.
Blake looked at her sharply, his eyes dark. "Are you sure?"
"They were chasing her when we got there," she confirmed. "The little creepy guy all in black - he kept trying to get back to her no matter how we distracted him. She's the one they were here for, no mistake."
Blake looked around. "Where is she?" he growled.
"She's with Marcus on ward four," Doc offered, still scowling at the wound he was trying to pull together. "Jenni's tending to a couple of burns on her –"
But he was already gone.
"Oh, sit still," he muttered to his patient as she squirmed beneath him.
Asher, who had been the first to make it to the scene of the carnage, looked thoughtfully in the direction his brother had disappeared, wincing at his own rapidly-healing broken rib. A gift, he'd explained to Doc, from a feral rogue using what appeared to be half a tree as a weapon.
"Any ideas how they got in yet?" he asked the two warriors.
"Same way he got out," grunted Issac as one of the nurses helped him out of his torn shirt. "He was in charge, I think. Dumb and dumber were following his lead anyway."
“Did you shift?”
“Not until it was over. No room. Tried to follow, but – " He hissed in pain, and the nurse rolled her eyes. “But he's damn fast, and I couldn't sustain the shift.”
