He's an Alpha: She doesn't Care (Jennifer Francis) novel Chapter 14

She’s Beyond His Rule 14 Summary Wynta wakes up in a hospital after a near-fatal accident involving floodwaters and a tree branch injury. She has undergone emergency surgery and spent days in intensive care, receiving antibiotics and a blood transfusion. Though physically battered with scrapes, bruises, and a serious knee injury, she is grateful for the medical care at Hills Private Memorial Hospital, a facility helping flood victims due to blocked routes to major hospitals. Despite the kindness of the staff, Wynta feels isolated and frustrated by her limited mobility and lack of visitors.

She struggles with the reality of her situation, relying on employer-provided health insurance and worrying about the potential financial burden of her treatment. Wynta fears that Edward, a figure connected to a pack she is not part of, might intervene to transfer her to their hospital and impose conditions on her recovery. She is determined to stay in the human hospital where the care is professional, hoping to avoid any unwanted obligations.

During her hospital stay, Wynta is visited unexpectedly by a man claiming to be her brother, Dwane, who insists she return to their pack’s private hospital. Wynta is suspicious and rejects his claim, asserting she has no family and is an orphan. She firmly refuses to go with him, demanding proof of his identity and relationship. When he fails to provide evidence, she calls for the nurse’s help, who then asks the man to leave. The encounter leaves Wynta feeling uneasy but resolute in protecting herself.

She maintains her independence despite the pressure from Dwane, who insists on their familial ties and the concern of Uncle Edward. Wynta’s defiance highlights her mistrust and desire to control her own recovery and future, even as she faces vulnerability in the hospital environment. Continue Regular Chapter Reading Below CHAPTER 14 Wynta She had no memory of being rescued; the last thing she recalled was losing consciousness beside that man she had assumed was a firefighter rushing to her aid.

Now, she found herself lying in a hospital room, an IV drip hanging from a metal pole beside her bed, slowly delivering antibiotics into her veins. A few days earlier, she had finally awakened and was told that she had undergone emergency surgery. The doctors explained that she had come perilously close to death. If not for someone hearing her screams and spotting her trapped in the floodwaters, she would have almost certainly died from her injuries. A small tree branch had pierced her body, and she had also suffered from prolonged exposure to the elements.

The surgery had successfully removed the branch, but she had remained sedated afterward to combat an infection trying to take hold. Only two days later, when the antibiotics began to show effect, was she allowed to wake up. The medical staff informed her that she had also received a pint of blood during treatment and that her body was covered in scrapes, bruises, and abrasions. They had very little information about her identity-just an ID card, no driver’s license, and a single bank card. She already knew she didn’t carry credit or store cards, having deliberately avoided debt.

On the first day she was conscious, she managed to tell the nurses that she didn’t drive but did have health insurance. The ICU nurse had told her that was fortunate, considering the emergency surgery and the two days spent in intensive care. She was to remain there for one more day before being transferred to a regular ward, where a physiotherapist would assess her condition and help her begin moving again. She learned that she had sustained a grade three Medial Collateral Ligament (MCL) sprain in her right knee, and currently, a full knee brace was immobilizing it.

She nodded as she explained how she had slipped off the boardwalk, injuring her knee, and how long it had taken before she could even put weight on it. Painkillers were administered, and an icepack was applied to her knee to reduce swelling. Eventually, she was moved to a different ward, a room with four beds-two of which were already occupied. Curious, she asked the nurse where she was, and was told she was in Hills Private Memorial Hospital, a private facility located just outside the city. It was the only hospital with a surgical unit accessible on the day she had been found.

The hospital had opened its doors to flood victims since the main routes to San Francisco’s major hospitals were blocked by floodwaters and landslides. Wynta wasn’t surprised by this, given the recent wild weather. She quietly thanked the doctors and nurses for taking care of her. +25 Points Across from her, two women occupied the other beds. They received visitors throughout visiting hours and chatted continuously. Meanwhile, Wynta mostly sat quietly on her bed, trying to find some comfort as she recovered.

It wasn’t easy-she was a side sleeper but couldn’t lie on her left side because of the penetrating injury there, nor could she lie on her right side due to the knee brace. The frustration was palpable. She spent much of her time staring out the window, lost in thought. When the nurse came by, she had to provide details of her health insurance provider, Cedar Rapid Health. She knew it was employer-provided coverage. “I believe I have full coverage through my job,” she told the nurse. “But don’t ask me for my membership number-I don’t know it by heart.

I’ve never had to use it in the five years I’ve worked there.” The nurse frowned in confusion. “I haven’t heard of that one,” she said. “Private, I assume?” Wynta nodded. “It’s exclusive to employees within the conglomerate of Cedar Rapid Industries.” She wondered how long it would take before Edward was notified that she was in this hospital, and how long before he’d insist on transferring her to his pack’s hospital to cover her medical care. She didn’t see the need for that. The human doctors and nurses here were kind, professional, and attentive.