I was going to enjoy ripping the doctor’s head clean off. She had to be the one covering for him. It made sense. She was smug, entitled, and exactly the kind of person who’d plot murder just to prove she could.
I meet the boys and fill them in as we race to the pack hospital. As we arrive, I spot her across the waiting room, laughing with an orderly like she hasn’t got a care in the world.
The moment her eyes land on me, she plasters on a fake smile. But I catch the panic flashing behind her eyes when she notices the wall of muscle standing behind me.
“What can I do for you all?” she asks sweetly as we approach.
I resist the urge to lunge at her. Layla’s fury pounds through my chest, clouding my judgment. My fingers elongate against my will, the storm inside me begging to break free.
