Bound By Four

CHAPTER 4

I woke to darkness and sound.

A steady, infuriating beeping drilled into my skull, each pulse sharp enough to make me flinch. It felt like someone was tapping the inside of my head with a metal spike, slow and deliberate. The air smelled wrong. Too clean. Too empty. No pine. No dust. No rot from old wood. I opened my eyes and immediately regretted it as pain detonated behind them, bright and nauseating, my stomach rolling hard enough that I had to swallow bile.

I squeezed my eyes shut again and forced my breathing to slow.

In.

Out.

Slow.

When I opened them a second time, I stared at the ceiling until it stopped swimming.

White. Smooth. Perfectly intact. No exposed beams. No cracks spidering through cheap plaster. No water stains creeping along the edges.

Not home.

Hospital.

The word settled slowly, heavy and unwelcome, sinking into my chest like a stone. I turned my head carefully, every movement echoing through my skull like thunder. Machines surrounded the bed. Screens pulsed softly. An IV line ran into my arm. Thick bandages wrapped both wrists and forearms, stark white against skin that looked too pale even to me.

Then the deeper ache registered.

Low. Sharp. Wrong.

It bloomed through my body in waves that stole my breath. Memory slammed into me without mercy. Hands. Weight. Laughter. The layered scent of too many wolves pressed into my skin like a stain that wouldn’t wash out.

I sucked in air through clenched teeth and squeezed my eyes shut hard enough to see sparks.

No.

No no no.

My chest tightened like something was crushing me from the inside. I turned my face into the pillow, breathing shallow and fast, trying not to shake. My body felt foreign now. Heavy and fragile at the same time. Like it no longer belonged to me.

The door opened softly.

I didn’t need to look.

I felt him the way I always did. That steady presence that never wavered, even when everything else fell apart. Sam pulled a chair to the side of the bed and sat, the scrape of metal against tile quiet but deliberate. When I finally forced myself to look at him, his expression was blank.

Too blank.

That alone told me how bad things were.

“What the hell happened?” I asked.

My voice came out raw, scraped down to nothing. I couldn’t remember if I’d screamed or cried or both.

“I found you,” Sam said quietly. “You were bleeding out on your living room floor.”

The words felt distant, like they belonged to someone else’s life. I tried to sit up and gasped immediately as pain ripped through my arms and lower body, sharp enough to blur my vision.

Sam was on his feet instantly, one hand firm on my shoulder, the other bracing the bed.

“Don’t,” he said. “You’ll tear something.”

“Why did you bring me here?” I snapped, anger flaring sudden and vicious, cutting through the numbness like a blade. “You should’ve left me.”

He stared at me, disbelief flashing across his face before he could hide it. “You were dying.”

“That was the point,” I said, turning my head away.

I couldn’t look at him and say it again.

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. The machines filled it with soft beeps and distant hums, but it did nothing to ease the pressure in my chest.

“What happened last night?” Sam asked finally.

His voice was controlled, calm on the surface, but something sharp lived underneath it. Something dangerous. I’d only heard that tone a handful of times, usually right before someone crossed a line they couldn’t uncross.

“You already know,” I said. “You can smell them on me. I can smell them on me.”

The words tasted bitter. My stomach twisted as the scents rushed back, faint but unmistakable, clinging to my skin no matter how many times I’d scrubbed. Too many. Layered. Invasive. I gagged and turned my face back into the pillow, breathing shallow through my mouth.

I felt sick.

I forced myself to look down at my arms. Really look. The bandages were thick, wrapped tight from wrist to elbow on both sides. Tubes disappeared beneath the sheets. A bag of blood hung beside me, dark red liquid dripping steadily into my veins.

Life being poured back into me without my consent.

“You lost too much blood,” Sam said quietly. “They had to transfuse.”

“Good,” I muttered. “Maybe they should’ve let me finish.”

His jaw clenched, muscle jumping beneath the skin. “Why would you do that?”

A hollow laugh scraped out of me. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice was rougher, stripped of its careful control.

“They did a rape kit.”

My head snapped toward him so fast the room tilted.

“They had no right,” I growled. “I didn’t give permission.”

“You didn’t have to,” he said evenly. “You were unconscious. I authorized it.”

Rage surged through me, hot and blinding, burning faster than the blood dripping into my arm. “You had no right.”

“I had every right,” he snapped back. “They found fluids from multiple men.”

I turned away again, throat tight. “No shit.”

“How many?” he asked quietly.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “And it won’t matter. Once the names come up, it’ll be buried. Destroyed. You know how this pack works.”

Sam leaned back slowly, eyes dark and calculating. “I sent it to another lab. Different pack. They answer to me, not the Alpha.”

I stared at him, shock cracking through the numbness.

“They won’t be able to erase it,” he continued. “I’ll know who they are. And so will the Alpha.”

“You think that fixes anything?” I asked bitterly. “You think names undo what happened?”

“No,” he said. “But it makes sure they don’t walk away clean.”

I closed my eyes as exhaustion crashed over me in heavy waves. I felt it in my bones. In the space between thoughts. I was tired in a way sleep would never touch.

The Alpha.

The word alone made my skin crawl.

“He already hates me,” I said quietly. “This just gives him another excuse.”

Sam was silent for a long moment. Then he spoke again, slower.

“He knows about your wolf.”

My eyes opened.

“He always has,” Sam said. “That’s why you were never banished. Why you were kept close and out of sight.”

Cold fear slid down my spine, settling low and heavy.

“He’s waiting,” I whispered.

“Yes.”

“For my birthday.”

“Yes.”

The confirmation landed like a death sentence.

“I can’t let that happen,” I said.

“I know.”

The nurse came in not long after. Efficient. Polite. Carefully distant. She checked monitors, adjusted lines, smiled like this was all normal. She said my vitals were good. That I was healing well. That I was lucky.

Lucky.

The second she left, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood. The room tilted violently, but I stayed upright, gripping the mattress until it steadied.

Sam was on his feet instantly. “What are you doing?”

“Leaving.”

“You’re not cleared.”

“I don’t care.”

I dressed with shaking hands, ignoring the way my body screamed with every movement. Pain was familiar. Pain I could handle. Fear was not.

I slipped into the hallway, hood up, head down. I moved fast. Avoided eyes. Ducking into stairwells. Turning corners without thinking. I didn’t stop until cool night air hit my face.

The trees welcomed me like old friends.

I made it home on autopilot. Showered until my skin burned. Threw the ruined clothes away. Packed what I could carry. Pulled up the loose floorboard and took my savings. Not much. Enough.

I didn’t leave a note.

I took one last look at the cabin and turned away.

The woods closed in as I headed for the border. I dialed the number from memory while I walked.

“Commander Edwards,” a voice answered.

“Sir,” I said. “This is Sasha Nichols.”

A pause. Then warmth. “Sasha. It’s good to hear from you.”

“I have the credits,” I said. “I’m leaving my pack. I need to know if the offer still stands.”

“It does,” he said without hesitation. “The academy will be ready.”

Relief hit so hard my knees nearly buckled.

“I’ll be there in a few days.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

I ended the call and kept moving.

I almost made it.

Two wolves stepped out of the shadows ahead, teeth bared, bodies low and ready. Their growls vibrated through the night, warning and challenge braided together.

I raised my hands slowly. “I’m not a threat. Let me pass and you’ll never see me in this territory again.”

They glanced at each other.

Then one stepped aside.

I didn’t hesitate.

I ran.