He gestured Jax and Flynn to vacate their seats in front of and behind Alex. Setting his medical bag on an empty seat nearby, he withdrew a pre-loaded hypodermic needle and tapped it to release the air bubbles. “She’s probably close to exhaustion by now. Vasiliev, restrain her from behind long enough for me to get this into her arm.”
I watched with deep misgivings as Vasiliev headed for her. Alex roared and jerked against the cuffs with her full strength. With a sharp, metallic crack, the welds on the seat arm gave way. She took a wild swing at the orderly, the angled hunk of metal arcing out like a weapon, still attached to the other end of the handcuff. Vasiliev cursed and stumbled backward, the heavy length missing his head by barely an inch.
“What the hell is going on in here?” A familiar voice, breathless with exertion, echoed from just outside the cabin door. In our relatively short acquaintance, I’d come to associate that voice with safety and stability. Rhys Beckett stormed onto the plane, one hand wrapped protectively over his swollen belly and his pale eyes snapping fire.
Nikolayev was halfway to him before I could so much as blink. “Solnishko, you should not be out of bed!”
“If you wanted me to stay in my fucking bed, you should have done a better job of dampening your worry through the bond.” Beckett’s growl was worthy of any alpha. “Jax—report, damn it!”
Jax practically snapped to attention beneath the whip-crack order. “She’s in full rut, sir. The doctor wants to sedate her so we can move her, but we can’t get close to restrain her.”
Beckett’s gaze raked over the small collection of people left in the cabin. “Everyone get off the plane. Doctor, give me the sedative.” His attention fell on me, assessing. “Kam, you’ve got no pheromones to rile her up. You can stay.”
Nikolayev straightened to his full height. “This isn’t safe for you. The pregnancy—”
Beckett’s lips pulled back in a silent snarl of warning. “Get. Off. The damned. Plane.”
Nikolayev took an involuntary step backward. Apparently, no one had warned him about trying to steamroll a pregnant omega.
Beckett softened almost imperceptibly. “I already have pups, Kostya. You know that. And one of them needs me right now.”
As if to punctuate the statement, Alex shrieked again. The broken chair arm flew through the air and cracked sharply against the tiny airplane window, still attached to the handcuff chain.
Nikolayev stared Beckett down for a long moment before giving a single, sharp nod. “Do as he says.”
Leo gave me a pleading look as I rose to let her squeeze past me into the aisle. “Be careful, odama.”
I pressed a kiss to her temple. “Always. We’ll figure out what to do next, just as soon as she’s someplace safe.”
Jax and Flynn followed Leo toward the cabin door, each of them resting a hand on my shoulder as they shuffled past me in a brief gesture of support. I doubt they would have willingly left Alex alone on anyone else’s orders, but one word from Beckett was all it took.
The doctor handed over the loaded syringe to his pregnant patient. He didn’t look pleased, but there was resignation in his tone when he said, “I’ll be waiting outside. You already know this is ill-advised, yes?”
“I’ve made a successful career out of doing things that are ill-advised,” Beckett replied. “I’ll send Kameron out to inform you once she’s safely out cold.”
The man shook his head ruefully, but he didn’t argue. With a sharp gesture to his assistant, he led the way to the exit. Once we were alone with Alex, Beckett’s tense shoulders slumped. A heartbeat later, he grunted and curled forward, his teeth gritted as he clutched at his distended abdomen for a long moment before straightening cautiously.
A sinking sensation took up residence in my gut. “You’re going to bring on your labor prematurely,” I said.
He took a couple of deep breaths and let his hand fall to his side. “Can’t be helped. And I’m only a couple weeks out from my due date.” He indicated Alex, whose violent outburst had subsided into low growls. “The faster we get her the support she needs, the faster I can get back in that blasted, ridiculous bed.”
I nodded. “You think your pregnancy pheromones will calm her?”
It was unclear if that was what had halted Alex’s rampage, or if it was merely the fact that almost everyone had left the cabin.
“It should help.” Beckett quickly checked the syringe. “Alphas tend to get very protective around pregnant omegas. Stay back until I call for you. I’m guessing you know your way around a needle from testosterone injections, yes?”
“As long as it’s intramuscular, I can do it,” I said.
“Good.” He handed me the syringe. “I’ll hold her and try to keep her calm. When I tell you it’s safe, come stand in the row behind her and inject her in the shoulder. Watch out for that loose seat arm.”
“All right,” I said. “But for the love of god, try not to get brained, bitten, or otherwise damaged. Your mate would wring my neck with his bare hands.”
“Actually, he’s partial to firing squads,” Beckett replied. “Stay here.”
I stared after him. It was probably meant as a joke.
Probably.
