Kian's POV
The Pack Hospital was too quiet and I stood at the glass of Room 402 with my fists shoved deep into my coat pockets.
Chelsea writhed on the bed, her sheets were tangled around her legs, and sweat had plastered strands of her pale hair to her cheeks.
Nicole Whitecrown was inside the room at the foot of the bed. Her hands gripped the metal rail so hard that her knuckles had gone white. Normally she carried herself like nothing in the world could touch her, a respected Luna that didn't tolerate anything less than perfection.
But tonight her control had cracked. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, but her eyes were wet with tears, and her shoulders shook each time Chelsea gasped for air.
Dr. Izaiah Underwood stood on the other side of the bed, with his arms fold
