“No, no. Bring another stretcher into the trauma room,” ordered Mirabel. “They’ll just end up in the same bed if you don’t.”
Flint willingly climbed into the new stretcher. “Move it closer to hers,” he grumbled.
“We won’t be able to work around you,” a nurse said.
“Just do it.” Mirabel’s voice faded into the background as Flint took Emma’s hand and she relaxed into a dreamless sleep.
Emma could hear voices. Loud voices. Voices of people she loved. Daphne, Shiori, Mia, even Carter. They were talking. More like yelling, really.
She opened her eyes. But Flint wasn’t in the bed next to her, and they weren’t in the emergency room anymore but back in the oak-paneled room on the top floor in the maternity ward. Under the loud voices of her friends, she could hear a baby crying.
Emma’s arms were covered in gauze. A large patch was on her shoulder too. It rubbed against the hospital gown when she turned her head, searching for the white board. It read Nurse: Mirabel Dawson, Doctor: Dr. T. Swan, Date: Tuesday February 21st, Weather: sunny.
There were two things to be happy about. One, it was sunny, and two, she’d only slept for a day instead of half a week like last time. But what worried her more was the voice rising above the rest. Flint’s. Emma gingerly pivoted her legs over the side of the bed. With a breeze only a hospital gown can give you, she made her way to the door and pulled it open. No need for shifter hearing here.
Flint came through loud and clear as she stepped into the hallway. He was addressing the large group of people in the waiting room. “So, here’s the thing. I don’t care how long you’ve known her. You don’t know her now. Old Emma, new Emma. I don’t give a damn. She’s Emma. And she’s not a child. She’s fierce and brave and more than any of us deserve. I’m sick of listening to you all.”
Emma walked closer. Mirabel’s eyes flashed at her from the nurse’s station. She cocked her head. Emma’s heart slammed in her chest like when she’d broken curfew back in middle school.
But Mirabel tilted her head to the wheelchair next to her. “Sit,” she whispered.
With Emma safely in the chair, Mirabel wheeled her closer to the waiting room next to the wall in the hall. Most of the crowd Flint addressed couldn’t see she’d joined them. Just him.
Emma squeezed Mirabel’s hand in thanks as the nurse locked the wheels in place.
“So, stop telling her what she can and can’t do. She can obviously hold her own. Without her, both Oak and I would be much worse off.”
Emma shivered, thinking of what would have happened to Oak if they hadn’t lifted the chimney keystone off him before the cabin exploded into more flames.
“It’s not that we don’t think she can—”
Flint cut Shiori off. “I’m sure you think you’re a great friend, and in the past it’s even possible you were. But now? You’re shit. And unless you change how you act around Emma, and to her, I don’t want you around her anymore.”
Carter stood up. “She’s my employee. You can’t just say that.”
Emma fumbled with the lock on the wheel. But Mirabel put her hand on Emma’s shoulder and shook her head. Emma’s eyes widened, but she gave a little nod.
“She’s not your employee. She’s your whole business. Without her, you don’t have a product, let alone a company. So start treating her like it.”
“That’s right,” Daphne piped up. Emma could see Daphne’s Prada chunky loafer tapping, but nothing more of Daphne.
Flint glared at her. “You don’t want me to start on you. You’re not her mother. You’re her friend. Her power of three. Stop treating her like she might break. She won’t.”
Daphne’s toe froze to the floor. “You’re right.”
What?
Emma wasn’t the only one shocked by Daphne’s revelation.
“You’re right. Peter even told me something like that last week. I should apologize to her.”
“Yes, you should.”
The Prada shoe moved forward. “There’s something else I need to do—if you’ll let me see her?”
“I don’t know. She needs her rest.”
“You might be right. But what gives you the authority to speak to her family like this?” Shiori’s lawyerly tone was out in full force.
“I’m her mate.” Flint dropped his crossed arms.
And she felt it. Yes, some of his firefighter friends had said it. But they had both denied it.
“If she’ll have me. And if she won’t, that’s not going to stop me from making sure that all of you behave like the support system she deserves.”
“Now?” Mirabel asked Emma, unlocking the wheels.
“Now.” Emma’s heart thudded as Mirabel wheeled her forward.
Daphne gasped and started to cry. She waved her hand and removed the spell.
Emma had expected the full force of a fated mate to bowl her over, coming all at once with the spell dropped. But it didn’t. Her love for the male beside her had already filled her heart.
32
He’d known Emma was there. Her enticing scent couldn’t hide from him. Having her sneak up to the side of him wouldn’t change what he had to say to the room of their friends.
