Chapter 373

Olivia

In a panic, I darted out of the house, the cold night air biting at my skin as I ran across the dew-covered grass towards Clint’s cottage. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale light over the property, making the shadows around me seem deeper, more ominous.

I reached Clint’s door, pounding on it so loudly that it echoed in the quiet night. “Clint! Please, open up!”

After a moment that felt like an eternity, the door creaked open, and Clint appeared, looking groggy and disheveled. His hair was tousled, and he leaned heavily on the door frame. He looked as though he had just woken up.

“Olivia?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep. “What’s wrong?”

“Clint, it’s Nathan,” I blurted out, my voice quivering as I spoke. “He’s… extremely sick. I need to get him to the hospital. Now.”

Clint’s eyes widened in alarm, and he straightened up as much as his aching joints would allow. “Did you call an ambulance?” he asked, concern etching his features.

I shook my head, my heart pounding in my chest. “No, I can’t. It would cause too much panic in the pack if someone saw the ambulance pull up. I need your help to get him to the car.”

Clint hesitated, his gaze shifting from me to the dark path leading back to the house. “I’m not sure I can do much with this arthritis, Olivia, but I’ll do what I can.”

I nodded, feeling unbelievably grateful for his kindness. “Thank you, Clint. Let’s hurry.”

Together, we made our way back to the house. We stayed quiet so as not to alert the neighbors; the only sounds were those of the crickets and the ocean. Clint moved slowly due to his aching joints, which made me feel bad. I hated waking him like this, but what was I supposed to do?

When we finally reached the bedroom, Clint’s breath hitched at the sight of Nathan. He was still lying there, still and lifeless, his breath coming out in short rasps. “Good god, what happened to him?” he managed, his own voice strained with shock.

“He was sick earlier,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “Just a bad cold, or so I thought. Then I fell asleep for a couple of hours, and now this…”

My voice trailed off. Clint’s eyes met mine, soft and full of worry. He reached out and grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. “He’ll be alright, Olivia,” he reassured me, although I didn’t feel any better. “I promise. Now, let’s get him up. You take the right side, I’ll take the left.”

I nodded stiffly and did as Clint instructed. First, I laid a blanket down on the floor. Then, we each took one side of Nathan and managed to lift him up to a sitting position.

His head fell limp, and I had to support it with one hand so he wouldn’t hurt himself. He groaned something incoherent in his sleep, which was a bit of a relief; at least he was still somewhat there, even if his body was useless.

“Now,” Clint said, jerking his head toward the blanket, “let’s lay him down on that. Then we can carry him using the blanket. Like a stretcher, sort of.”

Carefully, we maneuvered Nathan’s limp form out of the bed and onto the blanket I had prepared. It was a struggle, his tall, muscular frame a dead weight between us. Clint grunted with the effort, his face contorted in pain as his arthritic joints protested the strain. But finally, we managed to get Nathan in place. Once he was on the blanket, it was a lot easier to carry him that way, although a little precarious.

We inched our way out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and out to the car. Each step was agonizingly slow, Nathan’s unresponsive body a heavy burden in our arms.

We moved carefully so as not to swing him from side to side or hit him on anything, but my heart raced the entire time with the fear of what might happen if we couldn't get him help in time.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, we reached the car. With one last push of effort, we managed to lift Nathan into the back seat, his body sprawling across it.

Clint leaned against the car, catching his breath, his face pale and drawn. “I’ll stay and watch the twins for you,” he said, his voice strained. “You go. Get him the help he needs.”

I hugged him tightly, my eyes brimming with tears. “Thank you, Clint. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“It’s nothing,” he replied, a wry smile touching his lips. I knew he was lying and that his body would be aching for days, but he kept that to himself. “Just keep me updated on Nathan. And be careful.”

I nodded, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill. “I promise, Clint. I will.”

Climbing into the driver’s seat, I glanced back at Nathan, lying unconscious in the back. The sight of him so vulnerable, so unlike the strong, commanding Alpha he was, sent a fresh wave of fear through me.

I started the car, the engine springing to life in the quiet night. With one last look at Clint, who stood watching us with a worried expression, I drove off, the urgency of the situation propelling me forward.

The drive to the hospital was a blur, my mind racing with worry for Nathan and what the doctors would say. Nathan remained unconscious the whole time, his breathing shallow, his face ghostly pale in the dim light of the car.

Upon arriving at the hospital, I rushed to get help, my voice breaking as I explained the situation. The doctors quickly wheeled Nathan away on a gurney, their faces grim and focused. And that was the last I saw of my fiance for hours.

I was left alone in the waiting area, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for any news. Time seemed to be both at a standstill and moving too fast all at once. I couldn’t sit, couldn’t drink, couldn’t even think straight.

“Are you sure I can’t get you some water or tea, dear?” the elderly receptionist said, her worried eyes meeting mine. “Or maybe something to eat? There’s a cafeteria down the hall.”

I shook my head. “No, thank you. I can’t.”

She sighed, and there was a knowing look in her eyes. Surely she had seen stuff like this countless times before; how many times did it end up in disaster? How many times did it end up with the spouse being broken the bad news, that their partner didn’t make it?

Would I be like one of those cases?

Suddenly, as I was chewing my nails, the door to the examination rooms burst open. Out walked a doctor in a set of green scrubs, his surgical mask pulled down to his chin.

“Miss Olivia?” he asked, his eyes scanning the room before meeting mine. And it was in that instant that I saw it, and it made my heart sink.

The sadness in his gaze.