At the infirmary, the Pack Doctor, Martha, was still tending to the rogue when she stirred, a low groan escaping her chapped lips as she blinked against the sterile white of the infirmary lights. Panic flared the moment awareness returned.
Her eyes darted wildly around the room, searching for an escape, a threat, anything. Every sound made her flinch; the steady beep of a monitor felt like a countdown.
Adrenaline surged, and her hand shot out, grabbing a scalpel from the nearby medical tray, her grip tight and desperate. She was clearly determined to use it as a weapon if anyone dared approach.
"Relax," Martha said calmly, her voice soft but firm, trying to soothe the terrified girl. "We are here to help you." But she didn't look like she'd heard her until the door opened and a scent o
