Page 57 of Run Wild Omega

Miles drops his ice pack. It hits the floor with a wet thud, but he doesn’t move to pick it up. He just stares at the wall, his shoulders shaking slightly.

I stand over them, looking at the door where the doctor disappeared.

Tess is alive. She’s going to heal.

And we lied to a doctor to get into this room.

I look at Dylan and Miles. The unspoken truth hangs between us, heavier than the snow outside. We told him we were her pack. We let him write it down.

Maybe we were just saying it to get information. Maybe it was a convenient lie to get past the red tape.

But as I stand here, feeling the phantom ache of the dream I woke up from, feeling the way my heart is finally slowing down from its frantic beat… I realize it wasn’t a lie.

We’re her pack. We have been since the moment we strapped on our gear to go find her.

Wyatt

The coffee in my hand has gone cold. I don’t remember when I picked it up, but the Styrofoam cup is crushed in my grip, the liquid inside tepid and bitter.

It’s been four hours since Dr. Evans gave us the update. Four hours of sitting in this cramped consult room, staring at the water stains on the ceiling tiles, listening to the muffled noise of the ER beyond the walls.

Dylan is asleep again, his head lolled back against the wall, a thin line of drool tracking down his chin. Miles is still awake, but barely—his eyes are glazed, unfocused, the tablet in his lap dark. The adrenaline crash has hit us all like a freight train.

My phone buzzes on the table. I look down.

Daniel: Parents made it through the pass. ETA 30 minutes.

I type back a quick acknowledgment and set the phone down again.

The door opens.

Maggie steps in, and my stomach drops instantly. The lines around her mouth are tighter than before. There’s a tension in her shoulders that wasn’t there an hour ago.

“Callahan.” Her voice is clipped. “She’s out of recovery. We moved her to ICU about twenty minutes ago.”

“ICU?” Miles sits up straight, the exhaustion vanishing from his face. “You said she was stable.”

“She was.” Maggie crosses her arms. “Something’s changed. Dr. Evans is with her now. He wants to see you—all of you.”

Dylan snaps awake, wiping his mouth. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not going to speculate.” Her tone leaves no room for argument. “Follow me.”

We follow her out of the consult room and down the hallway. The ER is still a madhouse—gurneys lining the walls, shouting voices, the wail of monitors—but Maggie cuts through it like a blade, parting the crowd with her presence alone.

We take the elevator up to the third floor. The ICU is quieter, more sterile. The beeping of monitors is a constant, rhythmic pulse. The lights are dimmer, the air cooler.

Maggie stops outside a room with a glass window. Through it, I can see Tess.

She’s pale. Paler than before. Her skin has a grayish tinge that makes my chest constrict. She’s hooked up to more machines than I can count—IV lines, a heart monitor, a pulse oximeter, and something else, a bag of dark red fluid hanging from a stand beside the bed.

Blood.

My legs move before my brain catches up. I push through the door, ignoring Maggie.

Dr. Evans is standing at the foot of the bed, reviewing a chart on a tablet. He looks up when I enter, his expression weary but composed.

“Captain Callahan. I was just about to come get you.”