18. ZANA

Chapter eighteen

ZANA

The hospital room is white, sterile and eerily quiet except for the sound of Reid’s sharp, panicked breathing. He jerks against the restraints, the leather straps on his wrists digging into his pale skin. His movements are wild, frantic, like an animal caught in a trap. The sight of him like this—thin, bruised, broken—makes my stomach twist. When he wouldn’t stop fighting the nurses earlier, they had to strap him down for his own safety but that’s only making him panic more.

“Reid,” I whisper, keeping my voice as steady and calm as I can despite the anger coursing through me. “Reid, stop. You’re safe.”

He doesn’t hear me or maybe he doesn’t believe me. His chest heaves, his hazel eyes wild and unfocused as he thrashes against the bed. The effort makes his ribs scream—I can see it in the way his face contorts—and yet he doesn’t stop.

I reach for his wrist, my fingers wrapping gently around it. His skin is cold, clammy, and he jerks harder. “Reid,” I say again, firmer this time. “You’re going to hurt yourself. Look at me .” I force some of my Alpha into my words, hoping that it’ll soothe him the same way it does Ethan.

His head snaps toward me, his eyes narrowing. For a second, there’s nothing but fear and defiance in them. He doesn’t trust me—why would he? He doesn’t even know me.

“You’re safe,” I repeat, leaning closer so he can hear me, feel me, even if he doesn’t want to. “I’m not going to hurt you. You’re not going back there if I can help it. I promise.”

His movements slow, just a little, his breaths still ragged. I keep my grip steady on his wrist, not holding him down, just anchoring him.

“Reid. It’s okay to stop fighting. You’re safe.”

The tension in his body starts to ebb. He slumps back against the pillows, his head rolling to the side as he stares up at the ceiling. He’s still breathing hard, but at least he’s not thrashing anymore. I reach out and brush the damp hair off his forehead, my hand trembling just slightly.

“I’ve got you, baby,” I whisper, my fingers brushing against his temple. “No one’s going to hurt you again. I swear it.”

His eyes flicker back to me, glassy and tired, but there’s something else there too—something like hope, buried under layers of exhaustion and pain. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t nod or even blink, but I can feel it. He’s listening. I take my chances as I lean down and press a kiss to his forehead, Reid relaxing just a bit more.

Slowly, his gaze shifts, his nose twitching as he scents the room. His body tenses again, but this time it’s different—not panic, but something closer to recognition. “Ethan,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse and cracked. His eyes widen, darting around the room, continuing to search.

A smile takes over my face and I hope it shows him everything I can’t say right now. “Yeah, baby. Ethan’s the one that found you. I wouldn’t have even known you existed without him. He’s my Omega. Our Omega,” I tell him.

Reid doesn’t look like he believes me, his lids sliding shut but for the first time in the last several hours, he’s calm. One of the nurses peeks her head in and grins before she pushes inside. “I definitely thought he was going to rip himself out of those restraints. He should be out for a little while once the meds kick in.”

I nod but don’t respond otherwise. I don’t need to. I’ve broken a lot of rules getting him here. Hell, I’ve probably broken a few laws. But looking at him now, safe and finally resting, I’d do it all over again. Every risk, every line crossed—he’s worth it.

“Zana, there’s two officers here to speak with you. Would you like them to come in here or—”

I give her another nod. “They can come in.” I’m not leaving Reid for one second if I can help it. I pull up a chair to the side of Reid’s bed, wrapping his hand in mine just as two familiar faces step into the room. I’ve dealt with the police a few times, a few of the lawsuits requiring a little more than just my words. And in this instance, Detective Liam Rourke was the one who pulled enough strings to get me in front of the Wilhelm’s house.

The second officer, Detective Grayson, has also been a tremendous help the past few years, a Beta with a penchant for bad jokes and an easy smile that doesn’t match the intensity in his eyes. Rourke clears his throat as he moves closer but still a respectful distance away from the bed. “Zana. What the hell happened?”

I snort, shaking my head as I lean back in my chair, glaring at the Alpha. “What happened is that the Wilhelms are exactly as bad as you’ve been suspecting, if not worse.” Rourke warned me that going into that house would anger me, that the richest are usually the worst but I didn’t believe it then. I do now.

Grayson raises an eyebrow, mustering up a laugh as he takes a seat by the door. “That’s not surprising but your Beta is in awful shape, Zana. What’s the story this time?”

This time? Grayson doesn’t seem to notice he said that but I won’t dwell on it. “Reid was supposed to be their pack Beta but the way they treat him… it’s beyond what any contract should allow. He’s injured and malnourished. He couldn’t even fucking stand up when I went into that house.” My thumb massages the back of Reid’s hand as I stare at him again. “I don’t even know the full extent of what they’ve done to him, but it’s enough to tell me they’ve been skating the line of legality for months.” The list of injuries the doctor gave me is appalling.

Rourke exhales sharply, running a hand through his dark hair. “But you managed to get him out?”

I nod, my jaw tightening. “Barely. I had to lie, twist the narrative to make it seem like I was there to help him recover so he could ‘serve them better.’” The words taste bitter even now. “It was the only way to get them to agree. If they’d known what I was really doing, it would’ve been a fight right then and there.”

Rourke pulls his own seat up beside me as he observes Reid resting in the hospital bed. “You lied on official business,” he says, his tone flat. But there’s no judgment in his eyes—just concern. “You realize that puts you in a tricky spot, right?”

I hold his gaze, my voice firm. “I don’t care. I wasn’t leaving him there.”

Grayson chuckles, his eyes flicking between me and Rourke. “She’s got that look,” he says. “You know the one.”

Rourke shakes his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite the seriousness of the situation. “You’re kidding.”

“What?” I snap, my patience wearing thin.

Rourke leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “He’s your mate, isn’t he?”

I stiffen, the question hitting me like a punch to the gut. My lips press into a thin line as I glare at him, daring him to say more. “What if he is?”

Rourke lets out a low laugh, shaking his head. “I should’ve known. You’re acting exactly how I did when I met mine.”

Grayson whistles, the sound low and drawn out. “That explains the fire in your eyes. Not that you don’t usually have it, but this is different.”

I growl, the sound rumbling in my chest. “This isn’t about me. This is about Reid and what those bastards have done to him.”

Rourke’s expression sobers and he nods. “Fair. But you know this complicates things.”

“I don’t care about complications. Rourke, I know you pulled every goddamn connection in the book but Reid’s my Beta. I’m not leaving him here. The Wilhelms will come for him if they think I’ve taken him. I’m not giving them the chance.”

Grayson leans forward, his grin fading. “Take him home, Zana. We’ll start an investigation on our end. It’s about time someone put those assholes under a microscope.”

I blink, surprised by the lack of resistance. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” Grayson says. “We’ve been trying to get something on the Wilhelms for years. If Reid’s willing to talk—and even if he’s not, his condition speaks for itself—we might finally have the leverage we need.”

Rourke nods, placing a firm hand on my shoulder and squeezing. “But you need to be careful. They’ll push back, hard. They won’t let this go without a fight. You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But you’re also putting yourself in the line of fire. Make sure you’re ready for what comes next.”

Grayson stands up, letting a heavy sign fall from his lips. “You’re lucky you got him out when you did,” he says, folding his arms across his chest. “A few more weeks of whatever they were pulling and I don’t know if there’d be anything left to save.”

Lucky isn’t the word I’d use. Nothing about this feels like luck. It feels like scraping Reid out of the gutter while the world watched and did nothing. I don’t bother answering him, my fingers brushing over the back of Reid’s hand instead. His skin twitches under my touch, the smallest reaction, but I’ll take it.

Grayson clears his throat, his tone shifting to something more formal. “The investigation gives us a week. That’s standard procedure when a pack Beta is removed under suspicion of abuse or neglect. But,” he pauses, narrowing his gaze at me, “that’s it. A week. He’s still under contract with the Wilhelms. You can’t push this into something personal.”

I laugh under my breath, sharp and humorless. “Right, because everything about this situation screams professionalism.”

“I’m serious, Zana. Anything that looks like tampering with their contract could backfire. Big time. If the Wilhelms file a report before the week’s up, it won’t matter what Reid wants—or what you want. He’ll go back.”

As much as I hate that, it’s the law and not even I can work around that. Still, I’m stubborn and Reid isn’t going to be stolen from me without a fight. “Let them try. Let them show up on my doorstep. They won’t touch him again.”

Grayson sighs, running a hand over his face. “Look, I get it. I do. But this has to stay clean or it’s over before it even starts. Whatever happens in your house stays in that fucking house. You know how these things go.”

I glare at him, the weight of his words settling on my shoulders like chains. He’s right, of course. He always is. But that doesn’t make it easier to hear. “What about him?” I ask, nodding toward Reid. “What happens to him if the Wilhelms decide to fight this?”

“That’s up to the courts,” Grayson mutters, sounding slightly defeated. “But if no one files anything during the investigation period... well, the Wilhelms have been known to cut their losses when things get messy.”

I grit my teeth, my hand tightening around Reid’s. “So, I just have to keep him alive and out of sight for a week? That’s the plan?”

Grayson shrugs, his lips twitching into a faint, knowing smile. “If he doesn’t want to go back, I don’t see anyone dragging him there. And from the looks of it, he doesn’t exactly seem eager to return.”

I glance at Reid again, watching the way his chest rises and falls with each labored breath. Grayson’s right. There’s no way he wants to go back, not after what they’ve done. But getting him to believe he can stay with me and Ethan—that’s a different fight entirely.

We sit in comfortable silence, the three of us watching Reid rest, the faint beeping of machines hanging in the background. Rourke stands and gestures to Grayson to leave before he squeezes my shoulder again. “Zana, I’d put my neck out for you any day. And while I wish you would have told me he was your mate, I would have done the same thing. Even if it’s messy, even if it’s risky—it’s right. A Beta should never be subjected to that kind of treatment and it’s going to hurt even more because he’s yours. However, don’t let your desire cloud your judgment.”

“That’s—”

Rourke chuckles. “Zana, I’m saying that you will protect your mates at all costs but make smart choices. The Wilhelms do not play fair. This will give us an in to start an investigation but don’t play into their hand. Be smart, Zana. I’ll make sure everything else goes as smoothly as it can.” Then he walks out, leaving me to the sterile cold of the hospital room.

Reid looks fragile lying there, his hand limp in mine, his breathing shallow. The pale bandages wrapped around his ribs and wrists stand out against his bruised skin. Every mark on him feels like a personal insult, like a challenge, daring me to not care. As if that’s possible. I squeeze his hand gently, trying to ignore how cold it feels in mine.

I don’t even know how he’s stayed upright in that house for this long. The Wilhelms had him twisted, body and soul. A contract shouldn’t leave someone looking like this. I glance at his face—his jawline too sharp from weight loss, his cheeks hollowed out—and it’s all I can do not to snarl.