Diesel grunted something about a cot and left behind her.
I looked to the others and cocked my head. Faust shrugged and shifted, padding to the foot of Jazz's makeshift nest, where he curled up in a matching position and set his head down. Dog followed him but did not lay down. He stared at Jazz and the baby like he was memorizing their features.
The twins shifted as well, choosing the corner near the door to sleep in. I didn't think they were rejecting us but offering to cover the room from a different angle. I nodded, laying my head over the top of Jazz's wings.
Wings.
They were softer than I'd expected. Part of me thought I'd touch them and they'd fall off like parts of a costume. They certainly looked picturesque. Layered with shimmering feathers, they'd likely stretch three feet out on either side.
Dr. Tiff's sharp steps heralded her return. She'd changed—into pajamas, not into her wolf form—and tightened her ponytail. "I'm not too worried about either sleeping a bit longer. We've let Jazz's body do what it needed to do, and I don't see any reason to stop that now. I'll do what research I can on the wings, but honestly, I don't know where to start with that one. Probably Nana. I need take his vitals at least once an hour until he wakes up, so make sure I have a clear path so I don't have to bother you every time." As she spoke, she fumbled with her phone. I assumed she was setting up alarms to get her through the early predawn hours.
Diesel returned with her cot. He set it up before awkwardly standing a few feet from where Faust and I lay with Jazz. Our eyes met, his human to my wolf. Was this too much for him? Was seeing new life, my omega, and everything else too much of a reminder of what he'd once had? I didn't want to hate him if he chose to leave, but a part of me would. Still, I kept my face clear—an easier feat when there were fewer muscles to control.
Diesel stepped toward the door, his legs seizing at the knees like he was fighting an inner battle. He spun around, shifting as he rotated so that he fell on all four facing us. His wolf was solid black and rigid with uncertainty.
He didn't look at me, but at Jazz and our child—who still needed a name. With everything else to prepare, we hadn't spoken about what to call our child. I wouldn't make that choice without my omega's input, so the little pup would have to remain nameless a bit longer.
Diesel tracked the sleeping pair as if expecting their eyes to fling open at any minute. They didn't, and he got close enough to lean his muzzle in, nearly touching the tips of Jazz's ears, and inhaled to scent him.
I chuffed proudly, both for my new family my pack brothers had all accepted and of Diesel's strength. Quinlan had never technically been his omega, since Diesel had insisted on waiting until the gap between their ages didn't mean as much. But Quinlan had always been Diesel's. Anyone with eyes could see that.
If our places were reversed and I was forced to watch a pack brother find what had been stolen from me, I didn't know that I could do as Diesel had done.
He exhaled, inhaling a second and third deep breath before directing his attention to the child and doing the same. When he was confident he had their scents, he padded to the opposite corner, across the room from the twins, where he could watch the room from yet another angle.
I wouldn't sleep much this night, but I would feel comforted knowing my pack, no matter how small or troubled, was there with me.
***
No one slept well that night. Dawn came, bringing uncertainty rather than promise. Father and son were both sleeping soundly. Dr. Tiff checked them every hour, but as we faced a second night with them still asleep, I had Dr. Tiff teach the rest of us how to give Jazz his hourly check-ups.
I thought about transferring Jazz to the bed in our room, but the system worked so well with him in the operations room, I decided against it. The others liked having them near while they went about their day, and I couldn't expect everyone to huddle in our room for long hours.
When evening came for a second time, everyone resumed their positions from the first night.
"I'll take first watch," Faust murmured, still at the table where he mumbled at his laptop. "You and Dr. Tiff should both get some sleep."
We were all tired, Faust needed sleep as much as the rest of us, but I wouldn't disrespect him by claiming to know more about what his body could handle than he did.
Dr. Tiff was asleep before she'd rolled all the way over. I took my preferred spot where I could shield and hold my omega and son at the same time. My fingers carded through Jazz's thick tawny hair. As I toyed with it, I saw bits of his red curls shining through.
He was shaped like a wolf but still smelled the same. Even his wings, foreign and shocking as they were to witness, smelled of him. They were as much a part of him as his leg or tail.
I'd take comfort in what I could smell, not what I saw. I'd never heard of a winged shifter. Dr. Tiff hadn't either. She'd called Nana Walker, and when the matronly shifter said she'd never heard of a thing either, that was when my concern skyrocketed. Somehow, Nana Walker not having any suggestions was more of a statement than anything else had been.
I imagined that was partly the reason Faust offered to stay up first. He and Diesel had uncovered enough that they were sure something suspicious was happening between Portal and their insulation supplier, but he didn't know what that suspicion was.
I closed my eyes. The ocean was louder tonight than normal. That always happened when the tide came in far enough the echoing crashing sounds had nowhere to go but up the craggy stone cliff, filtering into the hotel. The waves seemed an apt representation for how I felt inside. Churning with uncertainty. My guts turned, frothing with fear. Jazz and my son were here, by my side, breathing, hearts beating.
At what point was sleeping medically called something else? We hadn't tried waking either up, which Dr. Tiff had described as an important deciding factor. I had to believe my omega would wake up, that they would both be fine. I had to believe that, or I wouldn't be able to live with myself.
I shuddered awake with a ragged gasp. Rapidly gathering my wits, I recalled where we were and why. I wasn't in my nightmare; those things hadn't actually happened. My racing heart dredged up old feelings of failure, of not being strong enough or smart enough to prevent what had happened from happening.
"Knox?" Faust asked, just loud enough to be heard across the room.
"I'm fine," I grunted, delicately removing myself from Jazz's close proximity. A glance at the clock told me Faust had stayed up longer than his shift was supposed to be. "Get some shut-eye. I'll watch until morning."
Faust didn't complain. He shifted, turning three times before settling in a spot next to Dog—out in minutes.
Rain pattered gently against the windows. The cloudy sky meant there wasn't as much moonlight to illuminate the room. The hallway lights were always kept on since Jazz joined us. I stared at the chunk of light in the doorway, unable to stop the worst parts of my nightmare from resurfacing. The team had been in a helicopter flying home. We'd breached over the last of the mountains to a clearing in the trees. The clearing itself was only a handful of acres and housed every pack member we had. I'd smiled, excited to get home, when the clearing suddenly exploded with a mushroom cloud to rival a nuclear bomb. The helicopter banked sharply, spilling my brothers out and sending them sailing to their deaths. I shouted, though the sound was silent. Believing somehow that I could save them, I leaped from the helicopter.