The Alpha's Medic

Chapter 4

ZARA:

I was to resume two days before the Alpha returned to the pack house. His personal assistant arrived ahead of time to check every wing in the pack house.

Standing at 5'11, Mr. Ferdinand Cohn, the Alpha’s personal assistant, had a large scowl on his face. Beside him was the famous Head Medical Officer of the pack house clinic.

"I am Zara Dos Santos," I introduced myself, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Dr. Nicholas Barkley, Head Medical Officer,” Dr. Barkley greeted me. His handshake was firm, his tone calm, but there was a weight to it — the weight of someone who had seen more than I could imagine. I’d heard whispers about him. They said he was the kind of person you don’t question — you just do as he said.

“You must be the new medic trainee,” Mr. Cohn said to me.

“Yes sir,” I replied.

"Nice to meet you," Mr. Cohn replied curtly.

"Thank you, Mr. Cohn," I smiled politely.

"Since you’ve passed the last stage of the trials selection, Dr. Barkley has no concerns about your basic skills," he began. "But working in the Pack House Clinic is not like treating omegas in the pack. Here, every patient you treat could be high-ranking … or the Alpha himself.”

My stomach twisted—not from fear, but from anticipation.

"Two rules," Sir Cohn continued, holding up his fingers.

"One — never delegate treatment of the Alpha or high-ranking pack members without clearance from the Head Medical Officer. If anything goes wrong, we need to know exactly whose head to cut off." He said it like he was discussing the weather.

“Two–if you intend to quit, submit your resignation at least twenty-four hours in advance to the pack house secretary. If you’re already doubting this job, now’s the time to walk away.”

“Your ID pass will be ready tomorrow. Get it from the secretary before starting your shift. Understood?"

"Yes, sir.”

"Good. Get familiar with Dr. Barkley. In a crisis, speed matters more than pride." With that, Sir Cohn left.

"Come on, rookie.” Dr. Barkley took over instantly, his pace brisk, his words clipped. “Let’s see if you know your way around a crash cart.”

He began by introducing me to the staff in the clinic. Then, he guided me through the supply rooms, treatment bays, and emergency kits, calling out protocols from memory.

"This is not a place to get sloppy, Zara," he said, as he checked through the crash cart. "We deal in seconds here. Seconds save lives."

We spent the rest of the day organizing supplies, running through a trauma drill, and reviewing the on-call rotation.

"Why do you want this job?" Dr. Barkley asked, leaning casually against the counter. He had been putting me through the basic orientation for a while now, and it was almost time to leave. His coffee-brown eyes studied me with a quiet, measured intensity — the kind of look that made you feel like he could tell when you weren’t giving the whole truth.

"I don’t know," I lied, shrugging. "The pay is really good. I’m sure you’d agree with me."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Can’t argue with that."

"So what motivates you to continue being here over the years?" I asked, curious.

"Because I love my profession," he replied simply. "The Alpha trusts me, the work keeps me sharp, and yes the pay doesn’t hurt." There was a glint of dry humor in his eyes.

"I hope my aim will keep me going too," I said with a small smile.

He gave a short nod.

"I saw Mr. Cohn earlier," Dr. Barkley added. "He said you can leave anytime today instead of the usual shift end. Just be here tomorrow to collect your ID pass and the clinic duty roster."

"That’s cool," I replied.

"So," he straightened, pulling off the stethoscope draped around his neck and hanging it neatly on the wall hook, "heading out, or sticking around to explore the clinic a bit more?"

"Leaving," I laughed lightly, gathering my things.

He nodded. "Okay, See you tomorrow.”

I had half-expected the Head Medical Officer to be stern and unapproachable, but Dr. Barkley was surprisingly easy to work with. He didn’t talk down to me or look at me with pity like some of the other staff had — and that, in its own way, was more encouraging than any welcome speech.

*********

"It's my official first day," I announced at breakfast. "And Alpha Maximus might be around today."

And hopefully, I don't get fired. I thought to myself. People usually quit themselves, but this time I might just be one of the few people he's ever fired.

Xena replied with a mouth full of cereal. "Mine started three days ago, and Beta Jordan is a lot of work," she complained, rushing through her cereal as fast as she could. "Who knew he'd also be in charge of training and combat?"

“That man is so demanding. I see why he's friends with the Alpha," she dropped the blue cereal bowl on our wooden dining table and stood up. "Birds of a feather—"

"Bye, mom! Bye, dad! Bye, Zara!" She took her bag from where she hung it in the living room and checked herself out in the long mirror near our dining table.

"Bye, honey!" my parents smiled.

"Wait for me!" I pleaded. "Please."

"No way, you aren't even halfway done with your breakfast."

I checked the time and I had twenty minutes left to resume work.

I literally drank my cereal and ran to my room. Never had I ever gotten ready to go anywhere in five minutes.

"Bye, mom and dad!”

"Bye!" I heard their faint voices right after I closed the door.

The pack house was a little far. Thank Moon Goddess for public transport– even if I had to jog from the last stop.

"You’re late," Dr. Barkley remarked the second I stepped into the clinic reception, breathless and slightly hunched over.

"Only five minutes," I managed, still catching my breath.

His brows knitted slightly. "You okay?"

"Yup," I gave a weak thumbs up. "Just… going to change."

He nodded once. "Uniform, ID visible, then meet me in the treatment room. We’ve got a patient coming in from the training ground.”

"Got it.”

I darted to the staff changing area, swapped my clothes for the medic’s tunic, clipped my ID to the collar, and hurried back.

Dr. Barkley was already working with the quiet efficiency of someone who had been doing it a thousand times.

"What do I need to do?" I asked, stepping beside him.

"Prep the patient’s file and get a set of vitals when they arrive. I’ll handle the rest."

"Understood."

The door swung open a few minutes later and a young warrior limped in, a grimace on his face. I smiled reassuringly, led him to the cot, and began my checks while Dr. Barkley examined his leg.

"First day and you’re already in the thick of it," Dr. Barkley said without looking up.

"Wouldn’t have it any other way," I replied, jotting down the readings.

Once the patient was settled with his treatment plan, Dr. Barkley handed me a slim folder. "The Alpha has his quarterly health check today. I want you to assist."

My eyebrows shot up. "Assist… with the Alpha’s check-up?"

"Yes," he said matter-of-factly. "Think of it as your introduction to how things really work around here.”

My pulse quickened — partly nerves, partly excitement. This was exactly the kind of access I needed, yet I feel jittery.

Two guards stood right in front of an oversized double door made of fine pinewood. It had gold accents and a giant crest of a wolf at its center that would split in halves once the door got opened.

I showed them my ID card, and without a word, one of them went in. My confidence began to crack as he took some time.

"You can come in," he came back out and opened the door for me to go in.

The air inside was cool and faintly scented with cedarwood. Expensive ceramic tiles gleamed so brightly I could see my reflection.

Three bookshelves filled with new and old books rested there. I'm sure no one even read them, and opposite them were three gray chairs and a glass center table in the middle, probably where he relaxes. The windows were slightly opened, but in a way that gave the office minimum light.

Alpha Maximus cleared his throat, and that stopped me from further exploring his office. He still hadn't looked up from the documents. He sat there ever so calmly. His whiskey eyes showed a bit through his glasses in a serious expression.

I placed the slim folder of his medical notes and the portable diagnostic kit on the edge of his desk, a bit offended that he hadn't even noticed me.

"Vitals check, Alpha," I said quietly.

The moment I spoke, his head lifted sharply. Our eyes met and my heart stuttered. His gaze darkened, his scowl deepening as if my very presence was an offense.

He muttered, "What the hell?" under his breath, but my wolf hearing caught every syllable.

Only two things could happen now — I’d either be thrown out and get fired… or I’d walk out with my job intact.