Fated to the Warrior Wolf (The Hunted Omegas #3)

6. Gael

SIX

Gael

L eigh’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, and my heart tried to claw its way out of my mouth as she slumped in her seat, unconscious.

“Leigh, Leigh!” I barked, shaking her shoulders, trying to get her to wake up.

Shit, shit, shit, shit?—

“Gael, back up. Give Bri some room,” Reed tried to peel me away from her, but I couldn’t let her go, not like this.

“Gael! Back up, now!” Kane’s alpha command knocked me back, and I sank helplessly to my knees as I watched Brielle hover over my pregnant female, checking her pulse and snapping for someone to lower the seat.

She got her flat, then checked again.

“I need something cold, a bag of ice or a wet rag, something to shock her out of it.” Brielle seemed perfectly calm as she directed the situation, and I was glad, because if she panicked, I was going to shift right here in the middle of the damn plane.

The flight attendant ran on her spindly heels to get it, but I couldn’t peel my eyes from Leigh’s ghost-pale face to watch her go .

Leigh was usually golden, glowing from the sun, her skin a lovely tan that perfectly matched her natural blond hair. But now she looked ill, worse than when she’d been vomiting and clammy in her bathroom.

And I was pinned to the ground with alpha dominance, helpless. Unable to go to her, touch her, smell her?—

The flight attendant was back in a flash, passing a white rag to Brielle, who gripped Leigh’s limp arm, lifted it overhead, and pressed the cold fabric straight into her armpit.

Leigh gasped, eyes flying open like she’d been electrocuted. She jerked, trying to get away from the blast of cold, but Brielle hung on, shushing her.

“You’re okay. I just need you to breathe a little better for me and try to relax,” Brielle said soothingly, while Shay hovered over her shoulder like a ghost.

I strained against my bonds, finally looking at Kane.

“Alpha, please,” I said, working to keep the growl out of my voice. My wolf was close to the surface, and I was sure my eyes were glowing at this point. But I needed to touch her. It wasn’t optional. Just her hand, just something to settle my wolf and prove that she was going to be okay.

“Take it slow,” he warned me as he gradually pulled back the command.

I rose and stepped toward her at a glacial pace, not wanting to spook her all over again.

“Can I hold your hand?” I asked in a low murmur, and I hated the shakiness in my words. My wolf was so close to the edge, it wasn’t funny. But we needed to be strong right now, not flying off the handle when our pregnant female was sick. I wrestled him down as I waited.

The nod was so tiny, I might have missed it if I weren’t studying her like she was the Mona Lisa. But I sank gratefully to my knees at her side and laced my fingers with hers .

My wolf instantly calmed, and she shuddered at the contact, clearly needing that touch herself right now.

She might hate me, but her wolf didn’t. Her wolf needed pack, and had to recognize that we wanted to protect her as much as our young.

But I wouldn’t push it, not yet. Not when she was fragile.

Right now, the only thing that mattered was Leigh, and the baby. What they needed, they got, even if I had to walk over hot coals to get it for them. I’d take the blisters with a smile if she’d stop pushing me out of their lives.

So I stayed on my knees, stroking the back of her hand in soothing circles with my thumb, and I’d stay there as long as she’d let me.