Abandoned Treasure
Zero Day

Mykayla Pierce’s POV

Mayo Clinic, Rochester, Minnesota

Friday, July 24, 2020

I hadn’t slept much last night. Timur video-called me right after Dad tucked me in. We talked for an hour. My wolf missed him, and I did too. I was still way too young, but I knew I was lucky. I knew who my mate was, and he was a good man. In my therapy sessions with Chase, we were working on overcoming my past so I could be a good mate for him in a few years. He told me he loved me and would be praying for my quick recovery. I told him I’d be fine, but I could see the worry in his eyes.

There was always that chance I’d not make it, and he’d lose his mate before the mating. I couldn’t let that happen; I had to fight for our future.

I should have told him I loved him.

I wasn’t ready to say it yet. I knew I loved my moms. They’d raised me and kept me from the worst of Bitterroot Pack life, sometimes suffering in my place. My Dad was different; I’d always dreamed I had a father out there, and now he was here. The family bond snapped in place, and it was so easy. It didn’t hurt that I gained another Mom, a Grandma, and three half-siblings. They were everything a family could be in my dreams: loving, accepting, and supportive. I’d never slept as well as in that wolf/cat sleepover.

The mate bond was different; it was a pull I couldn’t ignore, but it wasn’t the bond just yet. I wasn’t ready, and I was too young to go farther. Timur was doing his best with me gone, working hard to help his Pack build a new home. I needed to get my head straight. He was my mate and belonged at my side when I returned to Arrowhead. I pictured myself tucked into his side, my hand in his, unafraid. He deserved more than contact only as a wolf. He’d never hurt me; I knew that in my heart.

I was too nervous about the transplant to fall asleep quickly, and then Tammy woke me at two-thirty. I dressed quickly, grabbed my phone and bag, and we headed into the minivan. Taylor rode shotgun with Vic as a driver. “What is Vic doing here?”

“He wanted to help protect you.”

He’d always kept an eye out for me at Arrowhead and later at Blue River. After Nathan’s story came out, he sat me down and told me the story of my Mom from his perspective. He still carried the guilt, but I forgave him. “You saved my life,” I told him.

“I killed your mother.”

“No. Alpha Todd and the Council killed her. If she had survived the crash, she wasn’t going to live long after I was born. She would have been raped, tortured, and finally killed. You aren’t at fault.”

Tonight, he smiled as I got in the van. “I made up a bed for you in the back if you want,” Taylor said.

“I’d rather stay up. I’ll spend way too much time in bed soon enough.”

I sat between Tammy and my father as Vic backed the van out of the garage. He turned onto the street and started driving slowly around the point past the Alpha’s home. “Look,” Tammy said as she rolled down the window.

The entire Pack and many of their guests had turned out to see me off. The Alphas waved at me from the end of their driveway. Others lined both sides of the road, waving and telling me good luck. Some even held signs of support, along with a couple that said ’Beat that!’. We turned onto the main road by the Pack House to replace even more people waiting for us.

The Steel Brotherhood members fired up their rides on a signal. They gave us a motorcycle escort, a dozen Harleys and Indians in front and back. They stayed with us until we hit the main highway in Two Harbors.

I felt like the President in his motorcade. I couldn’t believe all these people would get up in the middle of the night to wish me luck!

It was a four-hour drive, and I spent most of it talking with Dad. He told me about his adventures as a rogue, and I told him about my life since coming to Arrowhead. I didn’t talk about my time at Bitterroot, and he didn’t pry.

Vic pulled up at the patient dropoff for the Mayo Clinic. The treatment plan had Zero Day as the day of the transplant. Minus Three Day was today.

It was time to beat my cancer. I headed up to the Doctor’s office with my parents.

The doctor’s plan required me to start high-dose chemo this morning, with the transplant scheduled on Monday. If the blood tests over the weekend didn’t show enough progress, we’d have to delay the transplant. “How are you feeling this morning,” Doctor Thompson asked.

“Ready to go,” I said nervously.

“Good. We’ll get you checked into a room and begin the treatment. Nathan, she will remain in isolation over the weekend to protect her from infection.”

“I understand.” Dad gripped my hand in support before the nurse led me away. “Your mothers and I will always be within link range, Mykayla.”

“I know.”

“We’ll get through this,” Taylor sent me.

I kept the link discussion going as the nurse helped me get washed, gowned, and ready. The chemo nurse came to my room this time; I would stay here in this environmentally controlled, sterile bubble until I could fight off infection again. I got comfortable in the bed and closed my eyes as the potent drugs started their way into my body. Sleep came easily.

I woke up feeling like the flaming dog shit in a bag on the porch with someone stomping on it. My stomach was rolling, and the nurse recognized what was about to happen. She barely got the barf bag up in time.

Chemo was hell, but this was the seventh level. It was destroying my body from the inside out.

And I had two more days of this shit to go.

I slept most of the time, watched TV, or talked over the link to my parents. They were staying at a nearby hotel, and they set up a schedule so someone would always be awake to talk to me in the middle of the night. The blood tests showed the chemo had wiped out my bone marrow, so I was good to go for the next part. I felt like I was barely alive when they wheeled me in to get the bone marrow transplant.

I woke up later that afternoon. Doctor Thompson stopped by to talk to me. “The transplant went well,” he told me. “We’ll monitor for any signs of rejection and evidence the new marrow is producing cells.”

“When will I feel better?”

“Day by day, as you get farther away from the chemotherapy. You won’t have much energy for a few weeks as your marrow grows back.”

He was right about that.