The transformation was almost imperceptible but undeniable. Titan’s ears twitched, his head cocked slightly, and the growl stopped as if paused by an unseen hand. His eyes darted between Elena and Adrian, searching for context.
In a gesture that felt ceremonial, he lowered his muzzle to Adrian’s chest, confirming a pulse, then stepped aside, allowing the medical team access without relinquishing his vigilance.
The room exhaled collectively, hands diving in where they had hesitated before. Scissors snapped, suction whirred, and commands flew—“Two units O negative, now,” “Prep for OR,” “Pressure’s crashing.”
Through it all, Titan moved alongside the gurney as it rolled toward surgery, transforming from a barrier to a shadow.
Someone grasped Elena’s shoulder after the doors swung closed, wide-eyed and disbelieving. “How did you do that?” the attending asked, not accusing but stunned.
Elena swallowed, her hands finally beginning to shake. “Those weren’t my words,” she said softly. “They belonged to someone else.”
The medic who had accompanied Adrian went pale, realizing the significance of the phrase Elena had used. It was a recall command from a specific K-9 unit overseas, classified and known to few.
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