Page 64 of Puck Your Friend

Ten minutes pass. Then twenty.

Jace shows up first. Logan’s right behind him. Both look like they haven’t breathed since they left the rink. Logan’s eyes search the room.

Jace’s hands clench at his sides. “Wes is on his way, probably speeding down the highway. Where is she?”

I point toward the trauma doors. “They’re working on her.”

Logan drops onto the bench beside me. His knee bounces quickly.

Jace stays standing, pacing in tight lines. “Did they say what happened?”

My jaw clenches. “Suppressant overdose. Her system’s tanking.”

Logan leans forward, elbows on his knees. “I knew something was off. She was overheating early this morning. I should’ve called a fucking ambulance.” He buries his face in his hands.

I reach over and grab his shoulder. “There’s no way you could’ve known this was going on, and she would’ve stopped you.”

Jace rubs his hands over his face. “She hid it so well.”

I grit my teeth. “Because she had to. She wouldn’t have been able to have her job as an Omega.”

Silence drops heavily over us.

The nurse from before walks past with a tablet. I stand. “Is she—”

“Still being treated.” She keeps walking. “They’ll come update you soon.”

I sit again. Jace keeps pacing. Logan bounces both legs.

Hours pass. The antiseptic is giving me a headache.

Then Wes appears.

He’s out of breath. His dreads are pulled back into a low tie, a few loose ones framing his face. His amber eyes cut across the hallway and land on us. He’s no longer wearing his sling, and he’s in the clothes he uses for when he goes to the gym.

“Where is she?”

I stand and motion with my head. “In there. She collapsed after the game.”

Wes crosses the space in two strides. His hand lands hard on my shoulder. He says nothing. Just grips tight and presses our foreheads together before he lets go.

As if he were waiting for Wes to show, a doctor appears at the edge of the hallway, a tablet in hand. He’s young, with a calm, unreadable face. He scans the four of us. “Are you Miss Darian’s pack? The nurse told me one of you came in with her and stated you were a pack.”

I nod and step closer to him. “Yeah. We are her pack.”

He nods. “We got her information from a fingerprint scan, but not all the information is correct. It states she’s a Beta, which is false.”

Logan clears his throat. “We’re just learning all of this now, too. We didn’t catch her scent fully until last night. Before, we thought she was a Beta.”

He glances at our group. “Are you scent-matched or dating?”

Jace steps forward. “Scent-matched.”

“Come with me.” He leads us into a side room. The room has clean lines, stock art on the walls, and quiet lighting. A coffee, cocoa, and tea machine stands in the corner with tissues. It’s the kind of room they use to deliver bad news.

My stomach twists.

The door clicks shut behind us.

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