The girl lifted her head, then recoiled further, her cries escalating. My mate was weeping, and the thought was unbearable. She couldn't cry because of me; she couldn't be afraid of me. As the guards unlocked the cell, I moved closer, but she flinched away. Didn't she feel the bond, the recognition of her mate?
“What’s your name?” I asked gently, but she remained silent. My gaze drifted to her clothing, stained crimson. Jacob’s shirt, no doubt.
“We need to get her to the pack doctor,” Marcus said, his voice level. I reached for her, but she screamed as my hand approached. Marcus tried, and she reacted the same way, a raw, animalistic terror.
“Jacob,” I snapped, frustration building. No one was allowed to touch her unless necessary, but if it meant getting her medical attention, I'd allow it. She looked even more frightened than when Jacob had first found her.
He glanced down at her, his expression assessing. "Don’t," I hissed, my voice laced with warning.
“Wow, Martinus, chill. I just checked if she had her eyes closed. She lost a lot of blood,” Jacob replied, his tone calm.
I growled, and we reached the pack doctor’s chamber. Jacob carefully laid her on the examination table, her body trembling violently. Why was she so terrified?
“What’s the problem, Alpha?” David, the doctor, asked, his gaze following our approach. I pointed to the girl.
“Jacob found her. She has a deep scratch on her left side. Be careful… she’s my mate,” I said, my voice low.
He nodded. “Hi there, I’m David. The doctor.” He addressed her directly. She seemed less frightened by him than by Marcus or me.
“I’ll have to stitch that,” he said, indicating her stomach. Her fear intensified.
“It will be okay,” I reassured her, my voice softer. She looked at me, her eyes wide with terror. The pain of her fear felt like a physical ache within me.