The Moon's Legacy

Blood and Secrets pt 1

Willow POV

The clinic door slammed open hard enough to rattle the framed photos on the wall. “Exam room two,” I snapped, already moving.

The men didn’t hesitate. Good. They pivoted with the limp wolf between them and followed me down the hall, their heavy footfalls shaking the floor. Up close, the animal looked even worse. Blood soaked the gray fur along its flank and hindquarters, dark and wet and far too much of it. The metallic scent hit me like a blow, layered over with pain, fear, and the unmistakable wildness of wolf.

Not an animal. A werewolf.

I kept my face blank and pushed open the exam room door. “Get him on the table.”

They obeyed immediately, hoisting the massive body up onto the steel surface. It groaned under his weight. The wolf’s chest rose and fell in shallow, ragged pulls, and a low whine trembled out of him before his head lolled to the side.

Ivy pressed hard against the front of my mind, alert and restless.

'Easy,' I warned.

Her answer was more feeling than words—tension, focus, the instinctive urge to go to one of our own. Mine too, if I was being honest.'

The first man stepped into the room after them, ducking slightly under the doorframe though he didn’t need to. He was even larger up close, broad shoulders straining the thin gray t-shirt stretched across his chest. Dark hair, dark eyes, a hard, controlled face that would have been beautiful if it weren’t carved from tension.

Every man in the room was watching him. Not waiting for permission, exactly. Watching for a reaction. Power rolled off him in silent waves.

I didn’t need anyone to tell me who he was.

My pulse jumped once, hard, then settled. Wolves. In my clinic. In my town. Of all the places.

His gaze slid to me, sharp and assessing. Not lingering. Just enough to catalog me before turning back to the wolf on the table. Good. Let him look. A receptionist at a rural clinic was the last thing he expected to be dangerous.

“What happened?” I asked.

One of the men at the table answered first. “Bear trap.” The words clipped off in a growl.

My eyes dropped to the wolf’s back leg, and my stomach tightened. Fur and flesh had been mangled just above the hock; the torn tissue was ugly and swollen around deep puncture wounds. There were other injuries too—scrapes, torn skin, bruising already black beneath the fur. He must have fought like hell trying to free himself.

“That wasn’t all,” I said quietly.

The man’s jaw flexed.

“No,” the tall one said.

His voice hit me low and rough, the kind that could have sounded warm in another moment. Here it was all command, stripped down to necessity. “He made it out of the trap. He didn’t make it out before scavengers found him.”

My fingers curled once against my palm. Willow, receptionist. Human. Calm. I reached for the tray of emergency supplies with steady hands. “Doc!” I shouted, already pulling gauze and saline from the cabinet. “Emergency in exam two.”

Footsteps sounded in the hallway a second later.

I turned back to the table. “If he shifts in here, you tell me now.” That earned me all of their attention. Too much.

I kept unwrapping supplies as if I hadn’t said anything strange at all. One of the men frowned. “Shifts?”

I met his eyes blandly. “Into worse condition. I need to know if he’s likely to crash.” A beat passed.

The big one’s mouth flattened as if he knew exactly what I’d meant and knew I was covering it. Then he said, “He won’t shift.” A lie, or close enough to one. If this wolf lost control in pain, shifting was absolutely possible. Interesting.

Doc Blake barreled into the room, tugging gloves onto his hands. “Good Lord.”

He took in the wolf on the table, the three huge strangers crowding the room, and me standing at the cabinets. To his credit, he only paused for half a second before his expression settled into professional focus.

“What have we got?”

“Male wolf,” I said, switching without thinking into the clipped, efficient cadence emergencies always pulled out of me. “Severe trauma to the rear leg, probable blood loss, likely infection risk if the trap sat long. Secondary tearing along the flank and hindquarters. Breathing’s shallow.”

Doc blinked once, then nodded. “Sedation?” He was snapping questions at me like I was one of his vet techs. I went with it.

“Questionable with his size. And we don’t know how much blood he’s already lost.”

His brows climbed, just slightly. There would be time later for him to wonder when I’d become qualified to make that call.

Hopefully, much later.

“All right.” He moved to the table. “You two, back up and give me room. Willow, help me stabilize him.”

The two carrying the wolf obeyed at once. The third—Alpha, because that was exactly what he was—did not move far. He stayed at the head of the table, one hand braced on the steel beside the injured wolf, his attention fixed on every breath the male took.

Protective. Controlled. Terrified. He hid it well. Most wouldn’t have noticed.

I did.

“Can you understand me?” Doc asked the wolf. He talked to every injured creature the same way. “I’m going to help you, boy, but I need you to stay still.”

The wolf’s eyelids fluttered. A weak sound slipped from him. I stepped in before the men could react and laid a hand gently against the side of his neck. Heat burned under the blood-matted fur. His skin twitched under my palm. Ivy rose, threading calm through the touch before I could even ask.

The wolf stilled. The room fell silent. Too silent.

Doc looked up sharply. One of the men by the wall muttered, “What the hell?”

I forced myself not to freeze. “Animals do better when someone isn’t panicking around them,” I said, keeping my voice dry. “You all smell like adrenaline and bad decisions.”

The man scowled. Doc barked a startled laugh. To my relief, it broke the tension. Slightly. The Alpha’s eyes stayed on me.

Not suspicious. Not exactly. Aware.

I turned my attention back to the wolf before that look could settle under my skin. “He’s burning up.”