The door opened wide and Blay exploded out of that OR like he’d been shot from a cannon.

“She’s alive!” he yelled. “They’re both alive! They’re alive! And Layla is stable!”

There was a moment of total silence.

As if everybody who was in the corridor kind of had to reprocess everything, switch to a different track, change to another gear.

“And Qhuinn’s out cold on the floor!”

Later, Rhage would think it was bad timing that the cheering started up right after that little update—but who the fuck cared?

Blay was engulfed in bodies, everyone shouting and crying, hugging and slapping palms, cursing and laughing and sputtering and coughing as details were demanded and given once, twice, many times. There was just so much noise, so much life, and Rhage was right in there with the best of them, feeling like the lottery had been won, the gift given, the semi-trailer truck sailing by instead of striking one of their own.

Doc Jane was the next one out, and she peeled her mask off her face as everyone cheered for her. But unlike the new dad, she was careful to shut the door behind herself, holding it in place.

“Shhhh,” she said with a laugh. “We have a lot of patients in there. I need two gurneys to come through here, can you guys make some room? Oh, thanks, Ehlena.”

The nurse had obviously exited through the other door, and was doing a push-and-pull with the rollers. People milled to get out of the way, but Blay was still getting hugs, which led to a little bit of a delay.

“How can I help?” Rhage asked Doc Jane.

“Well, right now we’re good. Everyone’s okay—we just need to move some patients around.”

Rhage took the doctor’s arm before she turned away. “Are we really out of the woods with the young?”

Those forest green eyes held his. “As much as we can be right now. It’s going to be a long couple of nights, but that water ventilation system of Havers’s saved both their lives. We owe him.”

Rhage nodded and let the female go. And then he was going over to where Mary and Tohr were hugging and waited his turn. He just wanted to feel his shellan against him once more.

As Mary pivoted toward him, he held out his arms. It was so damned good to have her jump into them, and he lifted her off the floor.

“You ready to give it a shot?” he said into her ears. “You ready to be a parent with me?”

“Oh, Rhage.” His shellan’s voice caught. “Oh, I hope so.”

“Me, too.” Putting her back down on the ground, he frowned. “What?”

“Ah . . .” Mary looked around. “Where do you think we can get a little privacy for a sec?”

“Come with me.”

Taking her by the hand, he led her away from the crowd, going past the locker room and the weight room to the entrance to the gym.

“Ladies first,” he said as he held one of the steel doors open.

The security lights softly illuminated the vast space, and the exit signs over the doors glowed red like little hearths.

“I’ve forgotten how big it is in here,” Mary said as she broke away, put her arms out, and circled around, going Sound of Music.

Rhage hung back and just watched her move, her body lithe and beautiful to him, stirring him in places that were going to get greedy fast if he didn’t look away.

“I can turn on some lights,” he murmured, hoping for something to do.

“I like it dim like this. It’s romantic.”

“I agree.”

As his cock kicked behind the leathers he’d thrown on for dinner, he shook his head. Clearly, they had something important to talk about, yet here he was with sex on the brain. Disgraceful.

But, man, she was hot.

And he was juiced from the good news.

And they were alone.

And then Mary did a pirouette and some kind of sashay thing that made his eyes go to her ass and stay there.

Cursing under his breath, he cracked his back and stretched first one arm and then the other.

“Is there something wrong?” God, he hoped not. On a lot of levels. “Mary?”

“Oh, Rhage. Loss is hard, you know?”

The sadness in her voice was like a great eraser, wiping all the erotic right off his mind.

“Is Bitty okay?”

“That’s what she wanted to know.” Mary smiled in a way that seemed mournful. “That’s what Tohr wanted to know, too. Isn’t that what everyone does . . . and yes, she’s all right. She’s just going through a lot.”

“She needs a family.”

Mary nodded. “On the way here, while I was driving, I talked to one of the social workers, the one Marissa has assigned to our . . . case, or adoption petition, or whatever we’re calling it. We’re kind of making up the procedure as we go, but she’s going to talk to you and me separately and then together. About where we are in our lives. How we came to the decision to want to adopt. What our plans are both with, and without, Bitty.”

“What do I need to study to pass that?”

She twirled her way back over to him. “Just be honest. And thoughtful. There are no wrong answers.”

“Are you sure about that? ’Cuz I’m pretty frickin’ sure she’s not going to like my response to ‘Do you have a beast living inside of you?’”

“We talked about that with Marissa, remember? We can’t hide it, but the beast has never hurt me, and it’s never been a threat to anyone in the household—as long as they were not in the field. And I can counter any mortal danger argument with the whole I-can’t-die stuff. No problem.”