Alpha Alexander

Chapter Thirty-Six

"Oh, no. No, no, no," I said as the nurse came in with a wheelchair. "I can walk just fine."

"Protocol, honey." She blew a minty bubble with her ever-present green gum. "You gonna sit down or am I gonna have to call in your scary boyfriend?"

I chuckled. The hospital staff quickly learned who I was—and exactly who I was mated to—when they took me to another wing of the hospital for x-rays one morning and didn't tell Gabriel, who had gone to the pack house for a meeting and returned to find my room empty. As they were wheeling me back to my room, I felt a inkling of his panic through our damaged bond. I rounded the corner just as he was growling at the nurses who were at the nurses' station down the hall from my room. John was with him and looked as though he wanted to pull his Alpha away from the scared humans, but didn't want to lose an arm in the process. Spencer—who was apparently stationed as my guard while I was in the hospital—was walking beside the nurse who was pushing the wheelchair and, when he saw his Alpha, said under his breath, "Dear God, he looks pissed."

Ever since that little incident, it was "Can I get you anything, Alpha?" or "Are you comfortable, Alpha?" and even "I stole an extra puddin' cup for you, honey." The last one was from Stella, the only nurse who wasn't intimidated by Gabriel's growls and the only nurse who actually called me by my name, or simply "honey."

Stella patted the seat of the wheelchair. "Climb on, honey. We're goin' for a ride."

I ran a hand through my hair. "Stella, I really don't need—"

"Sit. Down." She raised a dark eyebrow. "Now."

I sighed and dramatically dropped my body into the wheelchair. "This is so unnecessary."

Stella didn't respond as she wheeled me out of my room and to the nurses' station, where my mate was signing forms. He turned to me as we approached. "I can take her from here."

"Protocol, honey," she repeated. "I gotta escort her out of the buildin'."

He just nodded and pressed the down button for the elevator. The journey out of the hospital was silent and when Stella stopped the wheelchair outside of the hospital doors, she gave me a soft hug and told me to take care of myself. I hugged her back more tightly and thanked her for taking care of me and keeping me company when Gabriel was busy with pack business and couldn't stay at the hospital with me. I was only there for a few days, but I grew to like the woman who was a mother of three and who offered to steal food for me because I didn't like what they gave me for lunch. She listened to me and offered her own funny commentary on my life the past couple of months. My mother really enjoyed her company, especially because her and Dad couldn't get as much time off work as they would have liked. Mom appreciated Stella just as much as I did.

When she retreated back into the hospital, I turned to the truck parked directly in front of the hospital. Gabriel tentatively reached his arms out and I briefly entertained the idea of trying to climb into the car on my own, but my bruised ribs hummed with pain, so I allowed Gabriel to gently wrap his arms around me and pull me into his chest, my knees bent over his left forearm. He silently placed me in his truck, trying not to shake me too much or accidentally touch the many bruises dotted around my body. He shut the door and slid into the driver's seat beside me. Without a speaking a word, I slid over the bench seat and tucked my battered body around his.

He didn't bother scolding me about my seatbelt. Instead, he simply wrapped his arm around my body, like he did on the night of my birthday, and started the drive home.

We were silent most of the ride. Then I saw the sign for one of my favorite fast food restaurants. I pointed and screamed, "TAKE THIS EXIT."

He flinched at my loud voice, but took the exit unhesitatingly. I pointed at the drive-thru and lunged over his lap—half out the driver's window, ignoring the throbbing bruises on my torso—to place my order. I looked back at him, "What do you want?"