Reluctantly, my hands unclasped from Fiona’s cold shoulders. I stepped back, watching in a numb, frozen silence as the trauma team immediately converged around her body. I couldn't bear to stand there and watch them fight the Grim Reaper for her soul. Turning on my heel, I walked out of the emergency unit, retreating to the isolation of my grand office.
Hours later, I sat at my massive oak desk, mindlessly staring at a stack of pack paperwork, completely unable to process a single word on the pages. My mind kept flashing back to the scent of her blood on my skin.
A sharp, hesitant knock sounded at the heavy mahogany door.
"Come in," I growled, my voice rough and laced with residual tension.
The door creaked open, and one of the pack nannies stepped into the office. Sauntering in direct
