Carter did not sign the family-authorization line.
He lowered the silver pen, pulled out his phone, and called Northstar legal instead.
"Revise Dr. Hart's donation form," he said. "Replace spouse authorization with Alpha pack guardian witness. Send it to the medical wing printer."
He ended the call before I could speak.
"That keeps the procedure moving without exposing the marriage."
I stared at him. "Of course it does."
The printer whirred behind reception. I took the warm page from the tray, read the new wording, and signed the donor-consent line only after adding a handwritten note: Pregnancy screening required before therapeutic draw.
"Run the full panel," I told Naomi.
She nodded and fastened a tourniquet around my arm. "No blood leaves this room until the screen clears."
Across the bay, Sienna lay propped against white pillows, her knee wrapped in a cooling sleeve. Carter sat beside her, holding her hand while her phone rested faceup on the blanket.
Naomi scanned my wristband and frowned at the terminal.
"That's odd."
"What?"
"The preliminary screen shows clear for donation. I'll still draw a confirmatory sample first."
She collected two small vials and fed one into the analyzer.
Carter checked the wall clock. "How long?"
"Ten minutes."
"We don't have ten minutes."
Naomi looked at him sharply. "Her medical safety is not timed to your gala schedule."
Sienna shifted and winced. "Carter, it's fine. I can miss Friday. I don't want Lena taking a risk because of me."
Her tone was gentle enough to sound noble. Her fingers never loosened around his.
Carter looked at the therapy calendar posted above the bed. "Friday is your first public skate since the injury. Sponsors are coming."
"Then maybe they need to learn that bodies don't heal on sponsor deadlines," I said.
His eyes cut toward me. "Not now."
The analyzer chimed.
Naomi read the screen, hesitated, then looked back at the terminal. "The system says approved. I'll keep the draw conservative."
She inserted the IV catheter.
Dark Moon Blood moved through the line into the collection bag. The pressure behind my eyes built almost immediately.
Carter did not look over.
He was adjusting the blanket over Sienna's knees.
A junior nurse brought my suspension notice for signature verification. The form listed me as "staff under active misconduct review" while the donation bag listed only an anonymous compatible source. I read both documents side by side. If Sienna recovered by Friday, Northstar could praise a miracle without admitting the doctor they had publicly disgraced supplied the blood.
"I want the collection barcode copied to my private chart," I told Naomi.
"Already done," she said quietly. "And I am recording the volume myself."
Carter glanced over then. "Why are you documenting everything like this is litigation?"
"Because you taught me what happens when the truth depends on someone's memory."
"You can stop glaring at him," Sienna murmured. "I didn't ask for any of this."
"Neither did I."
She smiled faintly. "You married an Alpha captain. You knew the team and pack would come first sometimes."
I looked at Carter. "Did you tell her that?"
His posture stiffened.
Naomi shut down the pump. "First phase complete. I want five minutes before we continue."
Carter stood. "Her repair markers are only halfway to target."
"Then her body takes the slower route," Naomi said.
"She needs full stabilization."
"And Lena needs to remain conscious."
Naomi checked my blood pressure twice. On the second reading, her mouth tightened.
"We're done."
"Naomi—"
"I said we're done."
She pulled the catheter and pressed gauze to my arm.
I tried to stand too soon.
The room tilted. Black spots flooded my vision, and my knees folded.
Carter moved on instinct. He caught me under the arms before I hit the floor and carried me into the staff restroom. The door shut behind us.
His Alpha scent rolled over me, pine and cold air, hitting the mate bond hard enough to make my wolf reach for him.
He pressed my back against his chest and buried his face near the mark at my neck.
For one humiliating second, my body relaxed.
Then I remembered the unsigned line on the form.
"Are you holding your wife," I whispered, "or stabilizing a biological problem?"
Carter went still.
He released me and stepped away. "The bond reacted to the blood loss. Don't turn this into something else."
The warmth vanished from my chest.
"Then stop using intimacy as emergency medicine."
I buttoned my collar to my throat and opened the door.
Sienna was sitting upright now, color already returning to her face. She had posted a photo while I was in the restroom.
Carter leaned over her bed in the image, fastening her knee brace. My Moon Blood bag hung in the background, donor label hidden by the angle.
My captain guarding his Ice Queen.
The comments were multiplying by the second.
I held the screen in front of Carter. "Have PR add one sentence. The donor was the suspended physician who fully cooperated with treatment. It belongs in the public record."
"No."
"It proves I didn't abandon a patient."
"It ties your name to hers and invites more questions."
"Questions about why your wife had to donate anonymously?"
His expression hardened. "You knew when you married me that my life couldn't revolve only around you."
I left before my wolf could betray me by begging him to take it back.
That night, I unlocked our apartment and did not turn on the porch light for him.
In the bathroom, I peeled off my uniform. Purple bruising spread around the puncture site. The mate mark at my collarbone was flushed and tender from Carter's brief attempt to stabilize me.
My phone vibrated on the sink.
Naomi.
Her first encrypted message made my pulse jump.
I reran the pre-donation sample outside the league system. Your HCG is abnormally high.
A second message appeared before I could call her.
Lena, you may be pregnant. The league software should have locked the donation automatically.
Then a third.
It didn't fail. Someone manually deleted the pregnancy warning before the draw began.
