Filed to story: Tangled in Moonlight Unshifted Novel by Lenaleia
C 84 Ava: Doctor’s Care to be a bit of a problem child. Too big for his britches after heading ng off to university. No need to worry, dear. I don’t care what pack you’re from. I’m just going to check your vitals and take a look at those wounds, make sure everything is healing properly.”
Of course. All important things a normal doctor would do.
I force myself to relax a little beneath her ministrations. She leans over with another whiff of bloody cookie grandma scent, her fingers surprisingly deft as they press against my wrist to check for my pulse.
Her gentle, almost maternal touch is unfamiliar to me.
“Your heart rate is a little elevated,” she murmurs, -more to herself than to me. “But that’s to be expected, given the circumstances.”
She peruses the monitor beside my bed, clucking her tongue at my blood pressure. “That should go up with some medication changes,” she says, before launching into a casual story about how her daughter had spent a day in the hospital the other day because of a grandchilda toddler?-who’d been ill from some sort of tummy bug, horrifying all the shifter parents at daycare. Turns out, she’d eaten something she shouldn’t, and there was no horrifying epidemic taking down little pups in the pack.
Despite my initial reservations, I find myself drawn in by her soothing cadence, the tension slowly ebbing from my body as she works, carefully checking every wound on my face and neck before replacing each dressing.
The first glimpse of the ragged wounds on my abdomen, angry and raw, has my breath catching in my throat. Vivid memories of the fight with Todd flash through my mind, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut to block out the images.
“Easy now,” Dr. Beaumont murmurs, her voice a gentle anchor pulling me back to the present. “Just focus on my voice, Ava. You’re safe here.”
I force my eyes open, fixing my gaze on her face as she carefully peels back the soiled dressings. Her expression is one of calm professionalism, betraying none of the revulsion I would expect at the sight of my mangled flesh.
“These are healing nicely,” she comments, her fingers ghosting over the edges of the wounds, just shy of touching them. “They cleaned it up well. We’ll need to keep them clean and change the dressings regularly, but you’re on the mend. I know it probably looks awful to you, but it looks good.”
Dr. Beaumont works in silence for a few minutes, her movements sure and efficient as she applies fresh dressings to my wounds. When she’s finished, she steps back, giving me an appraising look that makes me feel like I’m being evaluated on more than just my physical state.
“You’ve been through quite an ordeal, haven’t you, dear?” she says at last, her voice laced with sympathy. “But you’re a fighter, I can see that. And with the right help, you’ll come through this stronger than ever.”
I open my mouth to respond, but she holds up a hand, effectively silencing me.
“No need to say anything now,” she says with a shake of her head. “Just rest and heal, Miss Grey. We’ll have plenty of time to talk later. I’m going to reduce the frequency of your pain medication, and now that you’re awake I’ll have you swallow them as pills instead of giving them through the IV.”
I nod, because she pauses as though she’s waiting for my input.
“We run labs morning and evening, just to make sure everything’s going well. Our healer, Vanessa, seems quite taken with you, so she’ll be checking on you daily. Most of our healers are on par with doctors, but without the required licensing of the government. I’m not sure how it was in your old pack, but here, we work together. We’re going to keep your antibiotics through IV for now, but you’ll be able to go home on the pill form. Do you have any questions?”
I shake my head, flummoxed by her nononsense summarization of my care.
”Okay. If you need anything, your call light is… Not here. Hmm.” Dr. Beaumont takes a moment to check around my bed, picking it up from behind it somewhere on the floor. “Here. Nurses are around all day and night, as I’m sure you’re aware. If you have any more questions, let them know, and I or my colleagues. can come chat with you, okay?”
“Yes ma’am,” I murmur, as she fluffs a pillow behind my head before patting my knee.
“Oh, I almost forgot. I’m going to put in an order for a clear liquid diet. So, jello, broth, apple juice You can place an order at dinner through the phone, which is…
Also not here. Damn it.” Irritation flickers across that matronly face, and I can see a hint of the wolf beneath.
“They should have had this room prepped as if you were already conscious. My apologies, Miss Grey. Here’s your phone, and again, let us know if you need anything at all. Ah.” She snaps her fingers. “Make sure to get up and moving if you can. It helps with healing, and if you can get out of bed, we can get you off the catheter.”
Catheter?
-I blink and lift the blanket, peering between my legs. Yep.
Not sure how I managed to miss that.
Huh. No wonder I didn’t feel full to bursting the moment I woke up.
Dr. Beaumont is gone by the time I look back up, and a nurse peeks her head in the door. She looks frazzled.
“Hi, Miss Grey? You have a visitor.”
Lucas strides into the room from behind the wearied nurse. His presence is much as I rememberlike a lion surveying his territory, confident in his domination over everything in his sight.
This is the Alpha.
Even after everything that’s happened, the sight of him still sends a ripple of attraction and unease through me, a reminder of our complicated history.
But this time, there’s a huge part of me that wants to dash over and lift my head, baring my neck to him. To roll and rub against him with whimpers of submission.
I shove that part deep into a dark hole inside of me and close the fucking door.
Lucas moves with such fluid grace, despite his towering heighthe’s at least sixthree, rivaling Alpha Renard’s imposing ability to loom.
His hair is tousled, falling into a loose mess around his face and shoulders, and judging by the dark circles beneath his amber eyes, he’s been up all night.
And speaking of his eyes…
I try to avoid them, but it’s like there’s a force that pulls me into his gaze. It’s different from any time before. At the Gala, they’d burned with desire and curiosity. In Cedarwood, there was always an aching longing in their depths. Today?
They’re intense, smoldering with rage that wars with relief. His jaw is clenched, his face set in a way that I’d have expected him to be a grim reaper instead of a visitor. But his brow settles out of its deep furrow and relaxes a little when he sees me, and the wrinkles around his eyes relax.
As he approaches my bedside, I can’t help but lean toward him, into the scent of campfire smoke and something smooth and sensual beneath. A dizzying fragrance that has my heart yearning toward him. It should be comforting, but it sets me on edge as I try to pull myself back, waking myself from the brief intoxication with the man that the fates have deigned to mate me to.
It’s startling to realize I’m not angry with him anymore. I guess that’s what happens when you get rescued before you’re wiped from the world’s history book.
“Hi,” I say, because he’s too busy staring at me to talk.
“Are you okay?” Some of the stress fades from his face as he grabs the doctor’s stool and takes a seat next to my bed. His gaze lingers on the bandages on my face and neck, before sliding down to my abdomen. His fingers twitch, and he links his hands in his lap.
It’s a casual gesture, but somehow I know he’s fighting his urge to reach out and touch me.
It’s… cute.
“I’m fine. As long as I don’t move around, I don’t hurt too much. Thank you for changing my doctor.”
He grunts, shifting on the tiny stool. “Ellison’s a good .doctor, but a shit person.”
I blink. Honestly, I’d have never guessed in a million years that he’s actually good at what he’s supposed to do. I figured his personality bled into his talent. “Oh.”
“He’s been warned. He won’t bother you again.”
I nod, not sure how to respond. Even if he’s taken care of, there will be other wolves with a similar mindset.
I’m not stupid enough to think they can all be taken care of so easily.
“Thank you… for coming for me.” The blanket is soft between my fingers, easy to twist. I can’t meet Lucas’ gaze as I struggle to convey my grateful feelings. “I didn’t know what to do.”
He does reach out then, one of his hands dwarfing both of mine, quelling the anxious tugging of fabric. “I’ll always come for you, Ava. No matter how things go between us.”
My fingers still, quiet beneath the warmth of his hands.
There’s a gentle thrill that goes through me at our touch, a comfort I can get only from his proximity. One of the reasons I wasn’t angry when I learned he was breaking into his apartment is because of this. His -scent brings a sense of security, even with bad memories.
His intense stare burns into the side of my face, and I shift uncomfortably beneath the weight of his regard.
After a few moments of silence, I pull one of my hands away from his and bring it up to touch my hair, which must look terrible after everything I’ve been through.
“Stop looking at me like that. I must look terrible.”
Lucas chuckles, the rich sound sending a shiver down my spine. “You’re gorgeous, Ava. Even now.”
I chance a glance at him, searching his expression for any hint of mockery. But his amber eyes are warm with sincerity, a real smile softening his face. Even his eyes are crinkled at the corners.
A real smile is always seen in the eyes.
My breath catches in my throat as I take in the rugged angles of his face, the way his dark hair falls in tousled waves around those high cheekbones. Even bruised and bandaged as I am, something in his gaze makes me feel beautiful in a way I’ve never experienced before.
Not even with Claytonbut I shove that guilt down, not ready to deal with those thoughts right now.
Heat blooms in my cheeks and I lower my gaze, fiddling with the blanket again. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I’m not just saying it,” Lucas counters, his deep voice tinged with gentle amusement. “I mean it, Ava. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Even knowing that it’s just the mate bond talking, it warms my body from inside out, like a heating pad against the wounds of my heart.
A faint smile is desperate to curve my lips, and I struggle against it. Be cool, Ava. Calm. Detached. Professional. You are not going to sit here and flirt with the man who rejected you. You’re strong and independent, and you can stand on your own two feet.