Max couldn’t bear the sight of Amber Rose looking defenseless and still. Her chest barely moved, and if it weren’t for the machinery beeping at regular intervals, he would’ve screamed for the doctor to check her.

“I’m sorry, but I promised the police that I’d bring you back to them,” Doctor Kalisten said.

Max pushed off the glass, and after taking one last glance at his little daughter, he turned. “Thank you for giving me a few minutes with Amber Rose.”

“I always fight for the kids and their families’ rights. No matter what the press says about you, I saw what you did for your daughter. She’s only alive because of you.”

“Thank you.” Max pressed his hand against his chest as he gulped a lump that had lodged in this throat. “I won’t cause you any problem,” he said, “Lead the way.”

“I told the cops to wait outside the Pediatric Ward.” The doctor opened her hand to the side. “They are probably about to storm inside by now.”

“Max?” Wilson’s voice reached Max’s sensitive ears.

“In here,” Max answered as he and the doctor walked out of the small anteroom.

Wilson appeared at the mouth of the hallway, sprinting toward them. “The press is outside the hospital. You can’t go out from the main entrance,” he said all in one breath.

Wilson’s head swiveled toward a TV hanging from the wall, drawing Max’s eyes to the scene playing on the screen. One of his worst pictures, a candid taken by a paparazzi during a private party depicting Max as a lecherous drunk fondling a model, covered the right side of the screen. On the left, the word “Live” was juxtaposed to footage from the non-descriptive entrance to a hospital that only the supernatural community knew was Seattle Shifter Hospital.

The doctor patted Max’s arm. “Wait here. I’ll go talk to the police to convince them to escort you out from the back entrance instead of using the front.” She left at a brisk pace and reached for her cell phone when she rounded the corner.

Max felt like punching something but fisted his hands and let out a long breath instead.

“Your parents are outside,” Wilson said, and before Max could ask, he added, “I told them. They have the right to be here for you.” He passed his hand through his hair. “I’ve just called your lawyer. She’s en route to Seattle PD to make sure that you won’t stay downtown longer than it’s strictly necessary.”

Leaning against the wall, Max bumped his fists against each other. He forced his dragon to calm when all he wanted was to unleash his animal and vent his frustration. If he wasn’t allowed a good fight, riding the thermals was the next best thing, but tonight, he had no recourse but to bottle up his anger.

A low, keening sound followed by a growl came from the other end of the hallway, in the same direction of the waiting room.

“Vivienne?” Max looked at Wilson.

“I left her—” His friend’s eyes widened as he tilted his head to better listen to the faint noises.

Max sprinted at once, followed by Wilson.

From somewhere behind them, a door opened, and someone shouted, “Maximus Prize! Stop! You are under arrest for—”

Max didn’t hear the rest of the police’s warning because his blood thrummed hard against his ears, drowning any other sound. He ran as fast as he could, his long legs covering a five-minute walk in seconds.

His nostrils caught a whiff of blood mixed with the cloying scent of an expensive perfume he had come to hate. Louise had come back. Fear of what he would find made him run even faster. He burst into the waiting room and shouted in pain. The mangled body of a small, tan wolf lay on the floor, resting in a puddle of blood.

“Is it Vivienne?” Wilson’s choked question came from the door.

Vivienne’s distinctive scent was all over the animal. Max could only nod before shouting, “Call the doctor!”

He knelt by the she-wolf, taking her paw in his hand. A feeble heartbeat pulsed against his touch.

Running steps filled the ominous silence.

“Doctor, there’s a wounded she-wolf. She needs medical assistance,” Wilson said, his voice loud as the steps became closer.

“What happened?” the doctor asked, running into the room.

Four cops entered with her, their guns aimed at Max. They were all shifters. Seattle Shifter PD had sent their men to keep the situation under control.

“Move aside and raise your hands,” one of the policemen ordered, stepping closer to Max. “What did you do to her?” He pointed his chin at Vivienne’s she-wolf.

“Nothing. Louise Dortmund attacked her.” Max raised his hands but had no intention of cooperating. He stood at once and towered over the officer, who stumbled back.

“Stop!” The man, a were-panther, aimed the gun at Max’s head. “Dragon-grade, silver bullets.”

“Shoot.” Max’s anger was a red, fiery ball growing inside his chest. “Or move out of my way,” he used his alpha voice. “Is she going to make it?” he asked the doctor, ignoring the rest of the room.

Raising her eyes to him, Doctor Kalisten shook her head. “Her wolf can’t heal her. Whoever attacked your friend almost severed her head. It would be too much to fix even for a full-breed shifter.”

A huge weight dropped on Max’s chest, making it hard for him to breathe. “There must be something you can do.” He couldn’t accept that sweet Vivienne wouldn’t wake up to scold him about diapers and cribs, and how to properly care for babies. He wanted a lifetime of that with her. He wanted a lifetime with Vivienne. “You must do something for her.”

The doctor grabbed her cell phone and punched a number. “Need a surgical team. Werewolf. Severe trauma. Can’t be moved,” she said, nodding to her invisible interlocutor.

“Maximus Prize—” The policeman swung his gun in an arc.

Max’s hand shot forward and grabbed the weapon by its muzzle, jerking it away from the man’s hand. “The shifter who did this is out there.” His nostrils flared. “Can’t you smell her scent? I told you it’s Louise Dortmund who attacked this she-wolf.”

“We are here to take you into custody,” the man said, looking at his mates, who lowered their eyes. “Another team will take statements and start an investigation.”

“If you aren’t going to do your job, I’ll do it.” Max stepped around the man, heading for the door. “I’ll walk myself into district headquarters later.” He couldn’t do anything for his daughter or Vivienne, but he wouldn’t let Louise get away this time.

“Stop!” the man shouted. “Shoot him,” he told the others.

Wilson moved in front of Max and raised his arms. “You’ll have to shoot me first.”

“You—” The policeman’s voice shook. “Shoot him, too!”

At the door, Max threw the gun back at the policeman before saying to the doctor, “Save my girls.”