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He smiled back, and for a few seconds, I felt a little less like I was in the middle of a wild goose chase and more like a woman going to the doctor for a mundane checkup. Something normal and not drastically important for the pack’s safety and well-being.

We met Dr. Stan inside the infirmary, and he led us to an exam room. He directed me to sit on an examination table before leaving to grab some equipment. I shifted from side to side as I sat.

The infirmary walls were white-painted wood. It smelled sterile and antiseptic, making my nose itch and putting me on edge. I had never sat inside a doctor’s office like this. I was used to going home with scrapes and bruises from my bullies, but I’d never been injured to the point that a pack doctor needed to see me.

Night’s hand was warm and reassuring on my shoulder, and a wave of calm stole over me. “Don’t worry, I’m here,” he reminded me.

I put my hand over his and leaned against him. “Thank you. I needed that.”

So many problems felt insur