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The day had been uneventful enough that it made Dennis Whitaker uneasy.
ER staff didn’t trust quiet. Quiet meant the universe was lining something up.
He was reviewing labs when triage flagged a walk-in: male, mid-twenties, severe abdominal pain, escalating agitation. Dennis volunteered before anyone else could, grateful for something to do.
“Whitaker,” called Dr. Michael Robinavitch from the station.
Dennis turned immediately.
Robby studied him for a moment, sharp eyes softening just slightly. “If he escalates, you step out. Understood?”
Dennis nodded, trying not to read too much into the concern in his voice. “Understood.”
Dana, passing behind Robby, caught Dennis’s expression and smirked like she knew exactly what was going on.
He ignored her.....
The moment Dennis stepped into the room, he realized this patient wasn’t just in pain — he was volatile. Pacing, jaw tight, eyes bright with the kind of anger that had nowhere productive to go.
Dennis kept his tone calm. “Hello, I’m Dr. Whitaker. I’m going to ask you a few questions so we can—”
“Are you serious?” the man snapped, turning on him. “They send me a damn omega?”
Dennis felt the words hit like a slap but kept his posture steady. “I’m the doctor assigned to you.”
“I want someone competent,” the man shot back. “Get me an alpha.”
Dennis’s pulse ticked up, instincts whispering to de-escalate, to placate — training telling him to hold his ground.
“I can help you,” he said evenly.
The patient stepped closer, invading his space, scent sharp with hostility.
“You people shouldn’t be working emergency medicine,” he muttered. “Only here to serve and give Children.”
Dennis opened his mouth to respond.
The man grabbed his coat.
The hallway door slammed open at the same time as Dennis stumbled back into it, dragged out into the corridor by brute force. Conversations died mid-sentence. Heads turned.
“Sir, you need to let go—”
The patient shoved him against the wall.
Pain burst across Dennis’s shoulders as panic flared, sharp and involuntary. His control slipped just enough for the scent of fear to bleed through his suppressants.
Across the department, something changed.
A chair scraped violently against the floor.
Robby.....
He crossed the distance like a storm breaking, fury written in every line of his body. He didn’t shout. Didn’t threaten.
He simply seized the patient’s wrist and removed him from
Dennis with terrifying efficiency, placing himself between them.
"Step away,” Robby said, voice low and lethal.
The man froze — then tried to bluster. “I just want a real doctor—”
Robby slammed him back against the wall hard enough to rattle a supply cart.
“You don’t touch him” he said growling.
Orderlies rushed forward, but Robby didn’t release him. His control was hanging by a thread, eyes locked on the man like he was deciding how much damage he was allowed to do.
Dennis’s heart pounded.
This wasn’t just anger anymore. Robby looked trapped inside it.
“Dr. Robinavitch,” Ahmad urged carefully. “We’ve got it.”
No response.
Dennis realized with a jolt that Robby couldn’t disengage — not while Dennis’s distress still lingered in the air, not while his protective instincts were screaming at him to protect....to protect him....
If someone didn’t break that focus, this would end badly.
Dennis backed slowly down the hallway. Determination in his eyes.
Dana caught his sleeve. “Whitaker, what are you doing?”
He didn’t answer. He knew that she could only guess it.
He stopped near the stairwell door, pulse roaring in his ears.
Then he called.
The sound was soft but carried — clear, instinctive, impossible to mistake......a call for a Mate.
Every alpha in the ER went still.
Robby’s head snapped toward him. And growled when he saw other Alphas looking. They quickly averted their eyes.
Their eyes locked across the distance.
Dennis made the sound again — this time unmistakably directed at him.
An invitation.
A challenge.
A promise: follow me instead and take me.
Robby released the patient instantly.
Orderlies dragged the shaken man away as Robby stepped forward, attention narrowed to a single point — Dennis.
Dennis saw his opportunity, turned and ran.
The stairwell door banged open as he pushed through, adrenaline flooding his system. He made ita halfway up his Goal, when he heard the ER door open with a loed bang. Followed by the unmistakable footsteps of Robby, fast and relentless. Taking two steps at a time, maybe three.
Up one flight. Two.
Dennis’s lungs burned, but something deeper urged him onward — the instinct to keep moving, to make the pursuit mean something.
He burst onto the abandoned cardiology floor just as a hand caught the back of his scrubs.
Robby pulled him back against solid warmth, arms locking around him in a grip that was firm but careful, as if anchoring rather than restraining.
For a moment neither of them moved.
Robby’s breathing was uneven, the last of the fury still vibrating through him.
“You ran,” he said roughly.
Dennis leaned back against him, exhausted, heart still racing. Feeling arousal going through his body.
“You needed a way out.”
Silence.
Then Robby’s grip tightened, just slightly.
“You called me,” he said, like he still couldn’t quite believe it.
Dennis turned in his arms, meeting his gaze. “I knew you’d come.”
Something in Robby’s expression broke open — anger draining away, replaced by something far more pleasent.
His hand came up, hovering near Dennis’s face before settling carefully against his jaw, as if checking that he was real and unhurt and not a dream based on his desire.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
Dennis nodded.
Robby exhaled, tension finally leaving him in a rush. He rested his forehead briefly against Dennis’s, eyes closing.
“Don’t do that again,” he murmured.
Dennis’s lips curved despite himself.
“You caught me, didn’t you? Don't you want your reward....what is yours ?”
A faint, disbelieving but also lustfull laugh escaped Robby — the first sign that he was fully back.
“Yeah,” he said determined. “I did.”