The infirmary felt too small.
Too warm. Too quiet. Too full of my thoughts screaming at me in circles. Prototype One looped in my head like the world’s worst motivational slogan. My wolf paced restlessly under my skin, her ears pinned back, tail low. She did not like the silence. She did not like how the air tasted heavy, like it was waiting for something.
Which usually meant something awful.
Jack sat on the edge of my bed, his knee brushing mine. Beau leaned against the wall, arms crossed, expression carved from pure tension. The twins kept glancing at each other like they were mentally tag teaming my sanity.
I was about to ask if either of them would let me breathe without supervision when the infirmary door burst open.
A scout stumbled inside, panting hard. His eyes were wide and h
