"Sit."

I stepped into Dr. Owen's office and the door clicked shut behind me. The room smelled like him. That intoxicating scent of pine and something darker, muskier. My knees went weak.

He sat behind his desk, looking at his computer screen. When he glanced up at me, the world stopped. Those amber eyes locked onto mine and heat flooded my face, my neck, my entire body. I felt like I was burning up from the inside.

"Sit," he repeated, his voice stern.

I sank into the chair across from his desk, my hands gripping my knees. Don't stare. Don't make it weird. Act professional.

He opened a file on his desk. My file. "Mary Hart. Twenty two years old. Graduated top of your class from Westbrook Medical Academy. Started your internship here three months ago. Excellent academic record but minimal practical experience." He looked up. "Until today."

I bit my lip, saying nothing.

He stood up and walked around the desk. My breath caught. He leaned back against the desk, right in front of me. So close I could smell his cologne. So close I could see the gold flecks in his eyes. My mind went completely blank.

All I could think about was how much I wanted to reach out and touch him. To run my hands over that chest, to feel those arms around me. To taste his lips. God, what was wrong with me?

"So tell me," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "how did you perform one of the most difficult surgeries in modern medicine?"

"Um." My voice came out as a squeak. I cleared my throat. "I guess it was just luck, sir. Maybe the adrenaline rush."

"Hmm. Interesting." He tilted his head, studying me. "Adrenaline doesn't go to medical school, Mary. You were reckless. You could have made the situation more critical. That patient could have died on your table."

"But he didn't." The words came out sharper than I intended.

His eyebrow raised. "No. He didn't. In fact, he's doing remarkably well. Dr. Stevens said your technique was flawless. Almost too flawless for someone with your level of experience."

The way he looked at me made my stomach flutter. Like he was trying to solve a puzzle. Like I was something fascinating and confusing at the same time.

"And this thing you've been doing since the board meeting," he continued, his voice dropping lower, "what's that about?"

"What are you talking about?" I tried to sound innocent, but my voice shook.

"Don't play dumb with me, Miss Hart." He leaned forward slightly and I nearly melted into the chair. "Looking into my eyes all through the meeting like the road to your house is mapped in there. Smiling with that messy hair of yours. Do you have any idea what you did? You made my wolf restless."

Oh god. Oh god. He caught me. My face burned so hot I thought I might spontaneously combust. His wolf? He felt it too? That pull between us?

"I don't know what you're talking about, sir," I lied. "I was only paying attention to the meeting."

His lips curved into a slight smile. It was devastating. "Really? Then tell me, what was the last instruction I gave at the meeting?"

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. My mind was completely blank. I'd been so focused on watching him, on the way his mouth moved when he talked, on the way his eyes kept finding mine, that I hadn't heard a single word after I sat down.

"Um. You said..." I bit my lip, trying desperately to remember. "You said... um..."

"That's what I thought." He straightened up, and the small smile remained. "I'm not complaining though. But be careful, Mary. I don't do interns."

"I'm not trying to 'do you,'" I shot back, using finger quotes.

"Your body language says otherwise."

Before I could respond, before I could even process what he'd just said, there was a sharp knock on the door.

"Dr. Owen, we have a case. Ward twelve. Possible cardiac arrest. They need you immediately."

"I'll be there shortly," he called out.

He looked back at me, and for a moment, something soft flickered in his eyes. Something that made my heart squeeze.

"You're dismissed, Miss Hart."

I stood on shaky legs and headed for the door. My hand was on the handle when his voice stopped me.

"Mary."

I turned back. He was watching me with an expression I couldn't quite read. Intense. Hungry almost.

"You know..I like it when your hair is messy."

"Stop looking at me like that, Juniper."

I stabbed my fork into my salad, avoiding my best friend's wide eyed stare. We sat in the hospital cafeteria during lunch break, and she hadn't stopped gawking at me for the past ten minutes.

"Wait, so let me get this straight." Juniper leaned forward, her curly red hair falling over her shoulder. "You woke up one morning and became a super surgeon by magic? Just like that? Poof?"

"I'm being honest, Juniper. I don't know what happened." I pushed the lettuce around my plate. "One minute I'm completely lost, crying my eyes out over Derek. The next minute I'm performing one of the most complex surgeries in cardiothoracic medicine. It was like someone else took control of my body. Like I was being possessed or something."

Juniper closed her eyes and held her hands up like she was performing an exorcism. "Hey, you evil spirit in my friend's body. Out. This instant. In the name of all that is holy, leave!"

"It's not funny, Juniper." But I couldn't help the small smile that tugged at my lips.

"Come on, it's a little funny." She opened one eye and peeked at me. "Maybe you're like those people in movies who get hit on the head and suddenly become geniuses."

"Nobody hit me on the head."

"Maybe you hit yourself and forgot about it. You know, because of the head hitting."

I groaned and put my head in my hands. "I'm being serious. I'm scared, Juni. What if it happens again? What if next time I mess up and kill someone?"

My phone buzzed on the table. I glanced at the screen and rolled my eyes. Another text from Derek.

"Hey, I haven't gotten a response from you about dinner. We really need to talk. I miss you."

"Let me guess," Juniper said, eyeing my expression. "Derek?"

"He's been a pain in my ass since the surgery." I shoved my phone into my pocket. "Suddenly he wants to talk. Suddenly I'm amazing and he misses me. Where was all this when I overheard him telling Tricia I was worthless?"

"Men are trash," Juniper declared, taking a big bite of her sandwich. "Especially werewolf men. They think just because they have a wolf and we're omegas, they can treat us like garbage and we'll come running back."

"Well, this omega isn't running anywhere except away from him."

"That's my girl!" Juniper high fived me across the table. "So, speaking of running toward things instead of away from them, what's the deal with Dr. Owen?"

Heat flooded my face instantly. "What? There's no deal. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh please." Juniper's grin was wicked. "The entire intern class is talking about how he couldn't take his eyes off you during the board meeting. Tricia is absolutely seething. She's been trying to get his attention for months and he barely knows she exists."

"He was probably just watching me because I was late and he was annoyed."

"Mmhmm. And that's why he called you to his office for a private meeting?" Juniper waggled her eyebrows. "Girl, spill. What happened?"

Before I could answer, the clicking of heels on linoleum made us both look up. Tricia approached our table, her face arranged in a smug smile. She wore her scrubs like they were designer clothes, somehow making the shapeless hospital uniform look fashionable.

"Well, well. If it isn't the miracle girl." Tricia stopped at our table, crossing her arms.

"What do you want, Tricia?" I didn't bother hiding my irritation.

"To make just one thing clear." She leaned down, her voice dropping to a hiss. "Dr. Owen is mine. I don't know what little trick you pulled in that meeting, but he's not interested in wolfless nobodies. So back off."

I stood up, meeting her eyes. "And Derek?"

Tricia laughed, a harsh sound. "Derek? Please. Derek was just to pass time. You think I, Patricia Weston, an alpha's daughter, would take a beta's son seriously? He was a toy. A distraction. Nothing more."

"You're disgusting," Juniper spat.

"And you're irrelevant," Tricia shot back. "Both of you. So stay away from what's mine."

"Mary."

That voice. That deep, commanding voice that made every nerve in my body stand at attention. We all turned to see Dr. Owen approaching, his white coat billowing slightly as he walked. He looked directly at me, ignoring Tricia completely.

"I need you to check on the patient in ward seven. Mr. Morrison. Make sure his vitals are stable and review his post op medication schedule."

"Yes, sir. Right away." I tried to keep my voice steady, professional.

Tricia stepped forward, touching Dr. Owen's arm. "Dr. Owen, I was wondering if you needed any assistance with the surgery scheduled for this afternoon. I'd be happy to observe and help in any way I can."

Dr. Owen's eyes flickered to where her hand rested on his arm. His expression turned cold. "Miss Weston, if you don't get over yourself and stop this inappropriate behavior, you'll lose your internship program. Are we clear?"

Tricia's face went white, then red. She snatched her hand back. "I... yes, sir."

"Good." He turned back to me, and his expression softened just slightly. "Ward seven, Miss Hart. Now, please."

He walked away, leaving Tricia standing there looking humiliated. Juniper covered her mouth, trying not to laugh out loud.

"Oh my god," Juniper whispered. "Did you see her face?"

I couldn't help but grin. "That was pretty satisfying."

Tricia glared at both of us before spinning on her heel and storming away.

"I take back what I said," Juniper announced. "Dr. Owen is not trash. Dr. Owen is a god among men."

I was about to respond when screaming erupted from the emergency entrance. We both jumped up and ran toward the sound.

A woman burst through the automatic doors, carrying a boy who looked about twelve years old. The child's face was turning blue, his hands clawing at his throat.

"Help! Somebody help! My child is dying! Please, someone help us!"

Nurses rushed forward immediately. Dr. Stevens appeared from somewhere, taking charge.

"What happened?" A nurse asked, trying to calm the panicked mother.

"He was eating lunch and suddenly he started choking. I tried the Heimlich maneuver but nothing worked. He can't breathe. Please, please save my baby!"

The boy's lips were turning purple. His eyes rolled back. He was suffocating.

"Get me a laryngoscope," Dr. Stevens ordered. "We need to intubate. Someone page Dr. Owen."

But I was already moving. That strange feeling washed over me again, like stepping into a warm bath. The world sharpened into crystal clarity. I could see exactly what needed to be done.

My body moved on autopilot. I stepped forward, gently but firmly moving the nurse aside. "It's a complete airway obstruction. The Heimlich won't work because the object is lodged too deep. We need to perform an emergency cricothyrotomy."

"Mary, wait," Juniper grabbed my arm, but I barely felt it.

"Scalpel," I said, my voice calm and authoritative. "And a tracheostomy tube. Now."

A nurse handed me the instruments, her hands shaking. I didn't hesitate. I tilted the boy's head back, located the cricothyroid membrane with my fingers. One swift incision. The boy's mother screamed but someone held her back.

I made a small horizontal incision through the skin and membrane, inserted the tube, and secured it. The boy gasped, air rushing into his lungs. His color began returning from blue to pink.

"Oxygen," I said, and someone placed the mask over the tube.

The boy coughed, wheezed, then started breathing steadily. His eyes fluttered open, confused and scared but alive.

"Oh my god, thank you!" The mother rushed forward, sobbing. "Thank you so much! You saved his life!"

I looked down at the scalpel still in my hand. Blood covered my fingers. The strange clarity faded and I was suddenly myself again, staring in horror at what I'd just done.

What was happening to me?

I looked up and saw everyone staring. Dr. Stevens, the nurses, Juniper, other interns who'd gathered to watch. All of them looking at me like I was something impossible.

I dropped the scalpel on the instrument tray and ran. I ran through the emergency room, down the hallway, not knowing where I was going. Just needing to get away from all those eyes.

I burst through a door and found myself in a stairwell. I collapsed on the steps, my whole body shaking.

Two medical emergencies in one day. Two impossible procedures I shouldn't know how to do. This wasn't normal. This couldn't be normal.

"Mary?"

I looked up. Dr. Owen stood at the top of the stairs, his face concerned. He'd followed me.

"I don't know what's happening to me," I whispered, tears streaming down my face.

He came down the stairs slowly, like approaching a frightened animal. When he reached me, he sat down on the step beside me. Close enough that I could feel the heat of his body.

"Tell me," he said softly. "Tell me everything."

"I think I'm going crazy."

The words tumbled out before I could stop them. I sat on the cold stairwell steps, Dr. Owen beside me, and everything I'd been holding inside came pouring out.

"That surgery yesterday. The one with Mr. Morrison. I've never done anything like that before. I've barely even observed one. But when I was in that operating room, it was like someone else took over. I knew exactly what to do. Every step, every movement. It was perfect and terrifying and I have no idea how I did it."

Dr. Owen listened without interrupting, his amber eyes fixed on my face.

"And just now with that boy." My voice cracked. "A cricothyrotomy. I learned about it in class but I've never performed one. Never even practiced on a dummy. But my hands just knew. My body moved like it had done it a thousand times before." I looked at him, desperate. "What's wrong with me?"

He was quiet for a long moment. Then he reached out and gently wiped a tear from my cheek with his thumb. The touch sent electricity through my skin.

"Nothing is wrong with you, Mary," he said quietly. "I think something is awakening in you."

"What do you mean?"

"Your wolf." He studied my face carefully. "You said you're twenty two and haven't shifted yet. That's unusual but not unheard of. Sometimes wolves emerge late, especially in omegas whose abilities are being suppressed."

"Suppressed? By what?"

"Trauma. Fear. Strong emotions." He paused. "Or sometimes by someone else."

I blinked. "Someone else? You mean like a spell or something?"

"It's possible. But that's not what's important right now." He shifted closer, and his scent surrounded me. Pine and earth and something uniquely him. "What's important is that your wolf is trying to emerge. And when that happens, dormant abilities can surface. Enhanced instincts. Knowledge you didn't know you had. It's like your wolf has been learning even while you couldn't access her."

"That's insane."

"Is it?" His lips curved slightly. "You performed a perfect Bentall procedure and an emergency cricothyrotomy in the same day. Both procedures that take years of practice to master. Tell me what's more insane: that your wolf is awakening with knowledge, or that you're just suddenly a surgical prodigy?"

I laughed weakly. "When you put it that way."

"Your wolf has been there your whole life, Mary. Watching. Learning. Just because she hasn't been able to manifest doesn't mean she hasn't been paying attention." He paused. "The question is, why now? What changed?"

Derek's face flashed through my mind. The betrayal. The heartbreak. "I don't know. Maybe the stress?"

"Maybe." But he looked like he didn't quite believe it.

We sat in silence for a moment. I was acutely aware of how close he was. How his shoulder almost touched mine. How I could see the gold flecks in his eyes, the strong line of his jaw.

"Dr. Owen," I started.

"Owen," he corrected softly. "When we're alone, you can call me Owen."

My heart skipped. "Owen. Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"In your office earlier, you said I made your wolf restless. What did you mean?"

His eyes darkened. He looked away, jaw tightening. "I shouldn't have said that. It was inappropriate."

"But you did say it." I don't know where the courage came from, but I reached out and touched his hand. "Please. I need to understand what's happening. Between us. This pull I feel. Is it just me? Am I imagining it?"

He looked down at where my hand rested on his. Slowly, he turned his palm up and laced his fingers through mine. The touch sent heat racing up my arm.

"You're not imagining it," he said roughly. "From the moment you walked into that board meeting, my wolf has been clawing at me. Demanding I claim you. Mark you. Make you mine." He met my eyes and the intensity there stole my breath. "But I can't, Mary. You're an intern. I'm the chief of surgery. There are rules. Ethics. I could lose everything."

"I could transfer to a different program," I whispered.

"No." His grip on my hand tightened. "You're too talented. This hospital is lucky to have you. I won't let you leave because of me."

"Then what do we do?"

"We stay professional. We ignore this." But even as he said it, his thumb stroked across my knuckles, betraying his words. "We focus on your training and your wolf's awakening."

"And if I can't ignore it?" My voice came out breathless.

He leaned closer. So close I could feel his breath on my face. "Then we're both in trouble."

The stairwell door above us banged open. We jumped apart like we'd been burned. Juniper appeared on the landing, slightly out of breath.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere." She paused, taking in the scene. Me and Owen sitting close together, my face flushed, his hair slightly mussed like he'd been running his hands through it. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No," we both said at the same time.

Juniper's eyebrows rose. "Right. Well, Dr. Stevens wants to see you, Mary. Something about documenting the procedures you performed today."

I stood up quickly, smoothing my scrubs. Owen stood too, putting professional distance between us.

"Thank you for the talk, Dr. Owen," I said formally.

"Of course, Miss Hart." His eyes said everything his words couldn't. "Remember what I said. About your wolf."

I nodded and followed Juniper up the stairs. At the top, I couldn't help but glance back. Owen stood at the bottom, watching me with an expression of hunger and frustration.

"Girl," Juniper hissed as we walked down the hallway. "What the hell was that?"

"Nothing. We were just talking."

"Just talking? He looked at you like you were the last meal on earth and he was starving."

My face heated. "Juni, please."

"And you touched his hand! I saw that. There was definite hand touching happening."

"Can we not do this right now?" I begged. "I need to focus. Dr. Stevens wants to see me and I already feel like my life is spiraling out of control."

Juniper sobered. "Hey, are you okay? Really?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "Everything is so confusing. The surgery thing. Derek. Owen. I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff and one wrong move will send me falling."

"Then it's a good thing you have me to pull you back." She squeezed my arm. "Whatever is happening, we'll figure it out together. Okay?"

"Okay."

We reached Dr. Stevens' office. Juniper gave me an encouraging smile before heading back to her rounds. I knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Dr. Stevens sat behind his desk, several files spread out in front of him. He looked up when I entered, his expression unreadable.

"Miss Hart. Please, sit."

I sank into the chair, my stomach twisting with nerves.

"I've been reviewing your performance today," he began. "Both the surgery on Mr. Morrison and the emergency procedure with the young boy. I've also spoken with Dr. Owen."

Oh no. Was I in trouble? Was he going to kick me out of the program?

"I have to say, in my twenty years of medicine, I've never seen anything quite like it." He leaned back in his chair. "Your technique was flawless. Your decision making was sound. You saved two lives today, Miss Hart. Two lives that would have been lost without your intervention."

"Thank you, sir, but I'm just an intern."

"Yes, you are. Which makes this all the more remarkable." He paused. "It also makes it highly irregular. The board is concerned about liability. About proper protocols. There are questions about how an intern with minimal surgical experience could perform procedures that take years to master."

My heart sank. "Are you saying I'm in trouble?"

"No." He smiled slightly. "I'm saying the board wants to fast track you into the surgical program. They want you working directly under Dr. Owen, learning from the best. If you can perform at this level now, imagine what you could do with proper training."

I sat there, stunned. "I don't understand."

"You have a gift, Miss Hart. A rare talent. We'd be fools not to nurture it." He pushed a paper across the desk. "This is a formal offer to join the advanced surgical track. It means longer hours, more responsibility, and intensive training. But it also means you'd be on the path to becoming a surgeon much faster than the traditional route."

I looked down at the paper, my mind spinning. This was everything I'd ever wanted. A real chance to become a surgeon. To save lives. To matter.

But it also meant working directly with Owen. Spending more time with him. Fighting this attraction that already felt impossible to resist.

"I need to think about it," I heard myself say.

Dr. Stevens nodded. "Of course. Take the weekend. Let me know Monday morning."

I stood to leave, the paper clutched in my hand.

"Miss Hart," Dr. Stevens called as I reached the door. "Whatever is happening with you, whatever this is, don't be afraid of it. Embrace it. The medical world needs more people who can do what you do."

I walked out in a daze. The hallway seemed too bright, too loud. Other staff members passed by, some giving me curious looks. Word had clearly spread about what happened.

My phone buzzed. I pulled it out and saw a text from an unknown number.

"Congratulations on your big day. But you should know: gifts like yours don't come without a price. Someone wants to meet you. Tonight. Come to the old medical library at midnight. Come alone. Don't tell anyone. Especially not Dr. Owen."

My blood ran cold. Who was this? How did they get my number?

I looked up and down the hallway, suddenly feeling watched. But there was no one suspicious. Just nurses and doctors going about their day.

Another text came through.

"If you want answers about your wolf and your abilities, you'll come. If you want to know the truth about why you really can't shift, you'll come. Midnight. Don't be late."