#Chapter 136: Silent Orders

Richard The room was quiet except for Amelia's soft breathing. Her skin still held the flush of heat, but her body had finally gone still, curled around one of the nest blankets. I sat beside her, bare-chested and alert, watching the door with one hand resting protectively on her shoulder. Nathan's voice flickered in through the pack link like a gust of cold wind: The nursery’s been hit. Airborne. Wolfsbane. I didn’t move. Not visibly. I didn’t blink or speak. Instead, I pressed my palm gently to Amelia’s cheek and said aloud in the calmest voice I could manage, "You’re okay, darling. Just stay resting. I’m right here." To Nathan, I pushed back through the link. Deploy medics to the nursery. Rotate guards. Lock down air filters. Track exposure radius. I want every child scanned for symptoms. “Still running warm,” I murmured aloud, brushing hair from Amelia’s temple. “That’ll ease soon. You’re safe.” Nathan again: Exposure’s moderate, no fatalities, but two infants were reac