Chapter 200

Almara’s Pov

The hospital doors burst open which commands my attention. Normally, the urgency in which the hospital doors open are mere background noise at this point, but something about the force in which the swinging doors almost flew off their hinges makes this particular entrance more intriguing.

Perhaps it was more than the urgency of the doors that caught my attention, and maybe it was the fact that we’re fated mates- but I lock eyes with Arthur standing tall and ready for attack just in front of the doors shutting too slowly behind him in comparison to the force in which they were opened.

For the first time, as far as I can tell, since I’ve been here the hospital which normally functions at a high intensity and anxious temper has stilled.

Though Arthur looks physically prepared to take on any sudden attack with his feet planted firmly on the tile, his fists clenched at his sides, and his shoulders slightly hunched at a defensive position, his eyes look defeated.

Behind his crazed expression which could be mistaken for ruthless rage, is the true feeling of trauma-induced psychosis. Before any though enters my mind, I’m making my way over to him, this time everyone stepping out of my way.

I wrap my arms around his neck and press my entire body into him. He’s stiff and then after a second too long he finally relaxes, ever so slightly. I was so sure that the only time I’d see him coming through these doors was on a stretcher in critical condition.

Not that I doubt his fighting abilities, but it’s no secret that no wolf is trained well enough to handle these monsters we’re up against. This thought is echoed by the words he whispers in my ear so that only I can hear.

“I don’t know if we can do it, Almara.”

I suck in a sharp breath and squeeze tighter. I can understand only a fraction of what kind of pain it must’ve taken for him to admit that.

Surrounding us, the energy of the hospital has picked back up to its usual amount. “Come with me,” I tell Arthur and release him out of my grasp. I link his hand with mine and try to pull him towards the classroom that’s currently empty so we can finally have some moments alone.

The last time we were alone was the night he left to lead this war. Since then, I’ve hardly seen him, let alone had any alone time with him all for myself.

Except Arthur doesn’t budge. I turn around and see a sad expression furrow into his brow and he shakes his head. “I can’t stay long,” he says. “I came on business,” he says. He pulls me back into him and places his palm gently on the back of my head and brings my lips to meet his.

For a moment, I forget where we are and everything going on around us. For a sweet brief moment, everything is as it should be. Unfortunately, the moment ends quickly. Arthur pulls back and lets his gaze linger lazily over my body.

My face reddens with heat as I realize I probably look like a mess. I’ve been working for the past nine hours, my hair has since fallen out of its bun, and my white scrubs are stained with blood from various patients.

Not to mention my baby bump is considerably bigger now than it was during my time pregnant with Grace. The only thing about me that’s more of an attractive appeal is my breasts enlarged, they tug at the tightening fabric around my chest. If they get any bigger, my scrubs are going to rip.

He licks his lips and instantly I’m filled with desire for him. Then, I remember where we are. I move my eyes off of him and try to catch my bearings.

I release his hands. “What is it you need?” I ask, sounding more business-formal than I’d like to for my husband.

Arthur’s eyes linger on me a moment like he wants to say more but doesn’t. “Some of the nurses are being recruited to the fields,” he says. My eyes widen and a few doctors and nurses nearby turn their heads in surprise.

“How is that possible?” I gasp. We barely have enough staff here as it is to take care of all the injured and dying.

Reading my mind, Arthur gives a reluctant shrug. “Your work is going to slow down, but only because we are dying out there,” Arthur explains causing my throat to go dry. “We need more gammas out there who can fight, or we’re going to have to forfeit.” Arthur spits out the last word.

I wait for him to tell me this is all some kind of sick joke, but deep down I know Arthur would never even joke about such a thing. I have no words, I just shake my head.

These wolves here aren’t even trained to fight. I know that it’s in our nature to do so, but there’s a certain skill level that every wolf possesses and gammas might be fierce and strong, but what they don’t have is technique- especially the skill required to fight these familiars that even the betas and Alphas are struggling to keep up with.

What Arthur is asking for is for bodies on the field.

“I’ll go,” I say offering myself and Arthur shoots me a warning glance.

“Absolutely not,” Arthur commands, except I don’t back down. I come to stand, toe to toe with him. I keep my shoulders back and tilt my chin up and he casts his eyes down at me.

“As Luna, I should be fighting along side you.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Arthur’s eyes travel once more down to my body but this time stay fixated on my stomach. Instinctively I place my hand over the swell of my belly. “Especially not in your condition,” Arthur says more with concern in his voice than anything else.

For some reason unbeknownst to me, my eyes begin to water. Maybe it’s the suppression of all my feelings rising to the surface, still I bat my eyes and fight back the tears from falling. I can’t let my colleagues see me get easily upset, that type of mannerism isn’t appreciated in our field.

“Well, then who is going?” I ask. By now a small crowd has gathered around to hear Arthur’s command. He pulls a piece of crumbled paper out from his combat pant pocket and begins to list off names.

Those that he calls that are nearby visibly pale and I do too once I hear the last name be called, “Cathy Mayweather,” Arthur says and gives me a look, knowing I’ll react to that, but I force myself to stifle any outbursts.

Cathy steps up, worry lines crossing her forehead, but quickly restores her expression back to a neutral look. Cathy has never been one to back away from a fight and I know she won’t start now, but I wish that she would.

Arthur hands the list to me and I numbly take it. “Burn this,” he says.