Get out!

Elena’s POV

The interior of the SUV felt like a trap. Outside, the city lights blurred into long, neon streaks as Zack pushed the car to its limits, but inside, the air was stifling.

I sat in the passenger seat with my hands folded in my lap. I looked like a calm, professional doctor, but my heart was drumming against my ribs. I wondered if he could hear it. I wondered if he could smell the lie I was holding onto with everything I had.

“Why would I lie to you?” I scuffed, in a bid to sound unbothered and believable.

"Mark Gunter," Zack said. He didn't look at me. "You said he was a doctor."

"He was," I replied. I kept my voice flat, stripping away any emotion. "He was an oncologist and a good man, Zack. He didn't care about ranks or power. He just wanted to help people live."

"And he just happened to have children who look exactly like me?" Zack let out a dark, breathless laugh. "I’m not a fool, Elena. I felt it. The moment I stood in that garden, my wolf saw his own blood."

I turned my head slowly, meeting his icy blue gaze for the first time since we’d left the house. "That’s the problem with you, Zack. You think your 'wolf' is a god. You think every gut feeling is a divine truth. But science doesn't care about your instincts. Dark hair and golden eyes aren't exclusive to your bloodline! It's a coincidence, nothing more."

"It’s not just the eyes," he hissed, swerving around a slow-moving truck.

"It’s the presence! One of the boys… I wish I knew his name; he looked at me with my own eyes and he judged me. He didn't act like a human child. I know you said he took after you, but a son born of an omega can't have that kind of power surgung through him.”

I held back my anger from being insulted. I couldn't show any emotion; that was my weakness.

"He’s a child who lost his father and had to grow up fast," I hit back, my voice sharpening.

"He protects me because he has seen me struggle. Don't project your desire for a legacy onto my son just because you're drowning in guilt. It’s pathetic."

Zack growled. It was a low, guttural sound that shook the floorboards of the car. Six years ago, that sound would have made me whimper and hide. Now, it just made me feel a cold, hollow sense of pity.

"Why didn't you come back?" he asked. His voice suddenly dropped, losing its edge and turning into something raw. "If you were in trouble, if you were alone... why didn't you send word? You knew I would have provided for you."

"Provided for me?" I chuckled dryly.

I felt a spark of real anger break through my pretense. "Like you 'provided' for me the night you rejected me in front of the whole pack? After telling me you would choose me? I didn't want your money, Zack. I wanted my dignity. And I found it the second I crossed your border."

"I searched for you," he insisted. He sounded like a man who was bleeding out. "I sent trackers. I spent months looking for you. I didn't think to look for a world-class surgeon with a new name and a life I wasn't allowed to see."

"You were looking for the girl you could control," I said, turning back to the window. "She died in the woods six years ago. Dr. Willow is the one in this car. And I’m only here because you begged me to save your dying elder.”

We hit the boundary of the Silver-Crest lands. The smooth asphalt of the city gave way to the rugged, forest-lined roads of the pack. The air shifted, growing thick with the scent of pine and the heavy power of the territory. I felt a chill.

"The Elder is in the west wing," Zack said, his tone shifting back to a command as the pack house came into view. "The equipment you asked for is ready. My medics are confused; they say the silver is rotting him from the inside out."

"Because it’s a rejection, not an infection," I said, my professional brain taking over. "Shifters can handle almost anything, but silver attracts bad energy. If he’s been exposed to dark magic or bad herbs, the silver will bind to it and rot the tissue."

“Hmmm…” he hummed.

Zack pulled the SUV to a screeching halt. He was out of the door before the engine stopped, rounding the car to open mine. He reached for my arm, but I pulled away before he could touch me.

"Don't," I warned. "In this building, I am your superior. You will call me Doctor, and you will stay out of my way."

He stood there, his chest heaving, looking like he wanted to scream. But he stepped back and gave a tight nod. "Yes, Doctor."

I walked into the pack house. The smell of it hit me like a punch to the gut; the scent of my nightmares. But I didn't falter. I reached into my bag, pulled out my wig and my mask, and fitted them into place.

We entered the surgical suite, Tiana was there, standing in a corner, looking pale and distraught. When she saw me with Zack, her eyes narrowed with a sharp, ugly suspicion.

"You're late, Doctor," she snapped. "The Elder is dying. Zack, why did you take so long to fetch her?"

Zack didn't even look at her. He was staring at my face, rather, my mask. "She’s here now. That’s all that matters."

"Is it?" Tiana walked toward us, her scent smelt of fake flowers and something sour. "You look different, Doctor. Less composed. Did something happen in the city?"

I didn't answer her, I didn’t have the time to. I just walked straight to the scrub sink. Elder Thomas looked like a ghost on the table, his vitals were flatlining.

"Out," I said. My voice echoed in the sterile room.

"Excuse me?" Tiana gasped.

"Everyone who is not essential to this surgery, get out," I commanded. I looked right at her through the mask. " I need silence to work."

I could say whatever I pleased, the life of an essential pack member lied in my hands.

"Zack!" Tiana turned to him, but he didn't move.

He looked at the dying man, then at me. I could see the conflict in his eyes; the man who wanted the truth about his kids, and the Alpha who needed his pack saved.

"You heard her," Zack said, his voice cold and final. "Everyone out. Now."

As the room cleared, I caught a whiff of Tiana’s scent as she passed me. It was that same sour smell, but stronger now. It wasn't perfume. It was the smell of something rotting.

I picked up my scalpel. I had twenty-four hours to save a life, but I was also subconsciously looking for evidence. I was going to cut the rot out of this pack, starting with her.