Chapter Seventeen

Chasten

I stretched out on the sofa to catch up on Treg's web comic. I only made it a few panels in before the quiet house and late hour lured me to sleep. I didn't rise again until someone banged down the door as if they were the guardians of Hemlock Mountain and I was hiding a cannibal in my kitchen pantry.

"Huh?" I blinked and my wolf barked inside my thoughts.

Something about him was fuzzy as if he had been working to wake me up for some time. Instinctively, I reached out for Kirk, but nothing was there. Well, something was. Our mating link was always there but he wasn't there. How was that even possible?

"Kirk? Alpha? Babe?" I called out through my grogginess.

"Answer the door!" Treg's voice broke through the haze. "I swear to Frost and Juda and all their crazy children, Chas, I will knock down this door if you don't answer it!"

"Huh?" I grunted again but this time managed to scramble off the sofa. "What the hell did I sleep through?"

"Chasten!" Treg hit the door again, slapping it with their palm.

"What?!" I wobbled toward the door.

I was just at the beginning of my second month but suddenly felt too pregnant. My belly wasn't how it normally was. It was bigger now – more weight to carry alone. Too much weight to carry alone. Where was Kirk? He'd gone to get ice cream but that didn't take this long---

My mind went blank and for a second my fingers couldn't remember how to open the door.

"Treg!" I shouted, hitting the door back.

"What are you doing? Chasten! Open the door, friend. Are you okay?" Treg said, their voice trembling.

I opened my mouth to tell him I couldn't get the door open when my fingers finally found the lock and turned it. A second later, I looked up at a shaky Treg dressed in their pajamas.

"What happened to him?" I asked, my heart dropping into my stomach. "I can't feel him, Treg!"

"He'll be okay," Treg pulled me into a tight hug. "Everyone tried calling you and you didn't answer!"

"So they called you?" I blinked at them.

"I was there when that car slid and smashed into the bed of his truck and ---"

"Treg?!"

"He's okay. He's alive. A broken pinky and the steering wheel smashed his leg up real bad when it crunched down. They had to sedate his wolf. I ran out because my favorite black marker dried up on me and --- it doesn't matter," they shook their head. "Anyway, I ran into him in the self-check out line and we chatted for a bit in the parking lot. A car hydroplaned out into him. Right into the bed of the truck and smashed the truck's nose right into the pole."

"Why didn't I feel that?" I asked, almost fighting mad.

Why wouldn't Treg just tell me everything?!

"I dunno. Maybe he shut down the link to keep from scaring you," they said, glancing down at my baby bump.

"I have to go to the hospital."

"He's in surgery now. Won't be out for a few hours. They're working on his leg. He's one of their own. They'll take good care of him, Chasten. I was more worried about you. He was too! At first I thought you just fell asleep but when you didn't answer your phone even when I called you from his, I worried. Then you didn't answer the door right away either. I thought you passed out or fainted or whatever you want to call it."

"I didn't need ice cream!" I howled and Treg flinched.

They took a deep breath and squeezed their eyes shut. Under normal circumstances, Grina and I both worked with their sensory issues as much as we could. Only, right now with my link to Kirk all screwed up by him or medicine or whatever nothing felt normal!

"For your blood sugar? That's what I thought anyway," Treg said a moment later, keeping their eyes shut as if they could protect their ears by not opening their eyes.

"I didn't need it!" I howled again. "How could I --- I sent him out there in that rain, Treg!"

"You can't blame yourself," Treg opened their eyes and put their hands on my shoulders. "Look at me right now, Chas. You aren't to blame. Hell, blame the rain or the texture of the streets that allow that to happen. One driver lost control, and he was hit."

"He's going to be so upset about the truck," I said and considered dropping to the floor to sit on my haunches. "I gotta go to the hospital."

"Do you want to get dressed first?" Treg asked.

"Why? You went to the store in your pajamas," I snapped.

"Because you might be there awhile," Treg said, ignoring my attitude problems. "Because it's something you offer someone before they leave their house. I don't know!"

"Are you okay?" I asked. "I mean with it all. Did the other person--?" I let my unsaid words hang in the air.

"They took her right in for surgery. She wasn't wearing her seatbelt."

"Through the windshield," I said and let out a long sigh as some of Treg's memory leaked over the pack link.

"Through the windshield," they nodded. "Rescue got there quick. Kirk was still awake and insisted they tend to her first even with her low odds. Once they gave the clear, me and one of the fire fighters got the steering wheel up. They don't think he'll lose the leg."

The blood drained from my face and my heart pounded around my ribs like a lost ping pong ball.

"I need to check my blood sugar before we leave. I don't care about clothes. Shit! Did you call Grina?"

"She called me! She felt me freak out over the pack link," they nodded. "She's at the hospital with her mate. They stayed in case there were any new developments. Do you need me to help you check your sugar?"

"Can you get the little black bag from the nightstand?"

"You still using your bedroom, or did you guys mix it up?"

"Same room," I nodded and turned to lean on the back of the sofa.

My heart pounded so fast I thought it might break free through one of my collarbones if I couldn't calm down. My energy buzzed up and down my body like electricity and I worked for each breath, forcing myself not to hyperventilate for the sake of our pup.

"Stupid ice cream," I muttered under my breath over and over like a mantra until Treg came back.

With shaking hands, I found out my blood sugar was on the low side of normal. I grabbed one of the emergency fun sized candy bars and followed Treg out to their car not even bothering to grab my shoes. Sighing, Treg scooped them up on their way out of the house and locked the door behind us. All I wanted was my mate back. I couldn't live the rest of forever without him. I couldn't raise our pup without him.

"You're not going to have to," Treg shook their head as they turned the key. "He's going to be okay. He might be hopping around on one foot until his leg heals but he's gonna be okay."

I nodded. I didn't have the energy to argue with them. Everyone said true-mates always knew when the other one died but how true was that? I tried hard not to think about that question as my wolf paced inside his inner sanctum. Imagines of Kirk hurt and laid out on an operating table plagued my inner eye.

"He's not going to be happy they sedated him," my wolf chimed into my thoughts, growling. "He's gonna be so mad when he wakes up."

Kirk's wolf probably would be pissed but Kirk probably told them to. Injured shifters had been known to lunge, bite, scratch, and cause other injuries to those trying to help them. Hell, he probably plunged the syringe into his own thigh as Treg and the fire fighter worked to free him. If Treg's theory was right and he closed our link before the worst parts of the accident happened, he was the same ole Kirk – trying to save everyone else and make our lives easier. How could the world keep spinning if he weren't here?

Treg gave up on trying to comfort me and focused on driving. The rain had stopped but the air had an icy chill to it. Would Kirk and I be robbed of our first yuletide season together? Treg sighed, but didn't say anything. They knew when they were fighting a losing battle.

I was out of the car before Treg killed the engine. I sprinted across the parking lot, slipping and sliding.

"Stop that right now!" a familiar voice called out. "Right now!"

For a moment, my confused brain thought Grina had caught me running over the ice. Except, the voice wasn't that familiar. I squinted across the icy-shiny parking lot to see Doctor Dreala standing outside the entrance.

"They called me as soon as they realized Kirk was your mate," she called out.

"What are you? My mother?" I called back, swallowing down an annoyed groan.

"The doctor in charge of your high-risk pregnancy. Stress isn't good for the baby, but your sprinting is more dangerous than stress. You stay there and I'll come get you," she said as Treg caught up with me after locking the car up.

"I got him," Treg said, scooping me up.

Doctor Dreala said something I couldn't make out, but Treg was already trekking across the parking lot. She stood akimbo, shaking her head. Her long blonde ponytail bobbed along with her head before the wind snatched it up and made it look as if her head had a tail.

"Don't put him down yet," she called out when we stepped onto the sidewalk. "If you're going to do a job, you better do it correctly. I'll grab the wheelchair."

"Wheelchair?" I called after the doctor, but she'd already disappeared inside.

Seconds later, she reemerged pushing a wheelchair and nodded for Treg to sit me down. I let them and motioned the doctor in close.

"Treg's pronouns are they/them. Don't be a fuck up," I said.

"I know that. You've mentioned them before, Chasten. We have seen each other every week for almost two months now. I'm not here to be a problem. You have enough of those tonight. I'm here to monitor your pup while you deal with the problems. Think of me as the babysitter. Only the baby is still in utero and I'm more qualified than your average babysitter."

I swallowed a groan and said thank you because it was the grown-up thing to do. Besides, she had crawled out of her warm bed in the middle of the night to check on me and the baby. Sure, she was probably on the clock now, but she could've let the on-call doctor know to peek in on me.

"Do you know anything?" I asked her.

"About Kirk?" she shot the question back at me.

"Yes," I nodded as she wheeled me into the elevator with Treg following behind us.

"He's in surgery. His injury isn't suspected to be life threatening. They ran a CT to ensure there were no brain injuries and a battery of other tests before taking him to surgery. His leg will probably be fine. His prognosis is a good one. He was worried about you. Maybe more than he should've been given the situation. I only spoke to him briefly before they took him away, but he was in good enough spirits, considering the situation. How are you feeling? Have you checked your glucose levels?"

"Low side of normal. Had one of those mini chocolate bars," I nodded. "Are you taking me to Kirk?"

"As close to him as I can get you. He was still in surgery the last I checked."

"How long will that take?" I asked.

"As long as it needs to," she said. "I'm not going to lie to you. That's one thing I always pride myself on. My patients may be pregnant and at risk from high stress situations, but that doesn't mean you need to be coddled. It means you need to count on someone who always tells you the truth and I am that person for my patients. Your mate's surgery will take however long the doctor needs."

"Did he say why I couldn't feel him?" I asked. "Can we stop a minute? When we hit the waiting room Grina is going to bowl me over."

"Proverbially," Treg added.

Doctor Dreala stopped my wheelchair and circled around so we could see each other while we talked.

"Currently he's in surgery. That means there is nothing to feel. Anesthesia has that unfortunate property. He is an alpha. So, with that sort of genetic healing I figure they'll have to undo some healing that occurred improperly. This surgery will take a while."

"Could he do it like Treg said?"

"Could he what?" she glanced over my head at Treg.

"I think Kirk shut down all his links before impact," Treg said.

"That is likely. It wouldn't be the first time someone took those few seconds to protect those they cared about. If he had endured fatal harm, you'd still have felt those repercussions."

"Without a doubt?" I asked, unsure if I could trust her proclamation of honesty.

"Without a doubt. That is not medicine. That is magic older than the concept of medicine," Doctor Dreala nodded.

"I think I'm ready to face Grina now," I said, leaning back in the wheelchair. "Do I really need this thing?"

"Probably not. This is me erring on the side of caution. Plus, I can wheel you away from anyone who stresses you out too much. No one really yells at doctors for wheeling away their patients."

"Grina is my friend."

"Friends can be stressful sometimes."