“I’ll administer something to calm her, it will make stitching the wound easier,” David said. “Fine,” I hissed, the words clipped and tight. He injected an anesthetic, and she slipped into unconsciousness. She’s beautiful, even vulnerable… David threaded the needle, preparing to begin. I growled as he began to lift her shirt. “Alpha… the shirt needs to be moved to access the wound properly. You know she’ll bleed out if you don’t,” he stated, his tone professional.
“Just do your work,” I snapped, barely restraining the tremor in my voice. The thought of anyone touching her, even to heal her, ignited a possessive fury within me. After a tense silence, David announced, “Done.”
“When will she wake up?” I asked, my voice raw with anxiety.
“A few seconds,” he replied, and indeed, almost immediately, her eyes fluttered open. She gasped, attempting to sit up, but a wave of pain washed over her, and she slumped back against the pillows. “You need to lie down,” David said gently, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. “You need to recover.”
She scanned the room, her gaze darting from corner to corner, over the paintings on the wall, to David’s cluttered desk. I felt a surge of irritation building within me. “Stop it,” I growled, my voice low and menacing. Her eyes finally met mine, and she flinched, recoiling slightly on the table.
“Sorry,” I said, attempting to soften my tone. I moved closer, but she hesitated, drawing back again as if bracing for a blow. “How are you?” I asked, forcing myself to speak softly.
She gulped, her fingers gripping the sheets tightly. A tremor ran through her body. “Whoa, I’m not going to hurt you. Calm down,” I tried, my voice a desperate plea for her trust. A whimper escaped her lips, and a wave of anger surged through me, threatening to consume me. I slammed my fist against the wall, the impact reverberating through the room.
“WHY ARE YOU SO SCARED OF ME!” I screamed, my voice laced with frustration and pain. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she trembled violently.
“Shh, calm down,” David said, his voice soothing. “Just answer Alpha Martinus’s question, okay? He won’t hurt you.” She nodded, her expression filled with terror. “What’s your name?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
“y/n,” she whispered, her voice so quiet it was almost inaudible. It was as if simply uttering her name was a struggle. But her voice… it was music to my ears, beautiful and haunting, like everything about her. A sound I longed to hear again and again.