CHAPTER NINETY-SEVEN: FIRE AND FLESH

From Stephanie's Perspective:

Brock's demeanor had shifted, no longer recognizable. My mind buzzed with inquiries for him, but even bathed in an infuriatingly euphoric haze, I found myself longing for his gruff company. Grumpiness was far easier to navigate than this facade of blissful ignorance amidst chaos. I braced myself to unleash my inner Alpha.

I knew better than to protest as Brock threw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes; his mind wasn’t his own at that moment.

Bolting out the hospital’s back door, each leap over a log sent jolts through me, as though racing over a speed bump at high velocity. With only his ironclad grip keeping me aloft, I could almost feel the impending thud of my body hitting the ground.

Brock set me on my feet, his voice extraordinarily cheerful as he declared, "Come on, follow me."

This part of the pack territory was unfamiliar to me. Before us stood an ancient three-story edifice, its facade bearing the improbable sign "Maintenance Closet." A