Chapter 4
821words
I cradle my phone as I prepare for work. "Nothing happened. We talked in the garden, then he got called away."
"Nothing? Luci, the man couldn't take his eyes off you all night! Ethan said Damon asked about you after you left."
My heart skips. "He did?"
"Ha! I knew you weren't indifferent. Ethan says Damon hasn't dated anyone in ages. Then you walk in and suddenly it's love at first sight."
"It wasn't love," I protest, though warmth spreads through my chest. "We just talked."
I don't mention the text on my phone: *Dinner this weekend? There was an intimate Italian restaurant that opened up in town recently. -Damon*
"Liar," Mila laughs. "I can hear it in your voice. Just be careful, okay? Damon's great, but he's still Blackwater. Different pack, different loyalties."
After hanging up, I stare at Damon's text. Dating someone from another pack isn't unheard of, but it's complicated.
I type a reply: *Friday at 7?*
His response comes quickly: *Perfect. I'll pick you up. Looking forward to it.*
*Me too,* I type back without hesitation.
---
Friday arrives with unexpected butterflies. I haven't been on a real date in over a year.
Damon arrives at 7:00 in dark jeans and a button-down. "You look beautiful," he says when I open the door.
The restaurant is a small Italian place in the neutral zone. Conversation flows easily between us. Damon shares stories about training young warriors, while I tell tales from the clinic.
"So a wolf pup, a fox kit, and a human toddler all in the waiting room at once," he says, eyes crinkling. "Sounds like the setup for a joke."
"It was chaos," I confirm. "The fox kept trying to hide, the pup wouldn't stop howling, and the toddler thought it was all a game."
"How did you handle it?"
"Bribery," I admit. "Treats for the animals, lollipop for the kid."
He laughs warmly. "Resourceful."
As dinner progresses, I find myself relaxing more than I have in years. Damon is easy to talk to, attentive without being intense.
By our third date the following week, I'm comfortable enough to let him kiss me goodnight. His lips are warm, his hands respectful at my waist. My wolf approves, though something in her response feels... muted.
I ignore her. This is exactly what I want—connection without the dangerous intensity of a mate bond.
---
"We need you at the border," Dr. Morris says when I answer my phone early Sunday morning.
"What happened?"
"Rogue wolf attack. Three injured, one critical. I'm stuck with an emergency C-section, can't leave."
My heart races. "I'm not a doctor—"
"You're the best we've got right now," he cuts in. "Pack ambulance is on its way. Bring your field kit."
Twenty minutes later, I'm heading toward the northern border. The driver, Tyler, fills me in.
"Rogue came through before dawn. Attacked a Blackwater patrol, then crossed into our territory. Both packs are working together to track it."
We arrive at a small clearing. I spot our injured wolf, Kira, pressing a bloody cloth to her shoulder.
I rush to her side. "Let me see."
The wound is deep—four long cuts from claws. "You'll need stitches," I tell her as I clean the area.
"Fix her first," Kira says, nodding toward a Blackwater female lying nearby. "She's worse."
I look over and my stomach drops. The Blackwater wolf is pale, barely breathing, with a serious wound on her thigh.
"Keep pressure here," I tell Tyler, placing his hand on Kira's wound. "I need to check the critical patient."
The Blackwater female has lost too much blood. The band on her leg has slowed but not stopped the bleeding from a major blood vessel.
"I need light, more bandages, and my stitching kit," I call out, already working.
I'm so focused that I don't notice someone new until his scent reaches me, a mix of pine and rain.
"Will she live?" A deep voice asks from behind me.
I don't turn around. "If I can stop the bleeding and get her to a hospital soon."
"What do you need?" he asks, his tone commanding but controlled.
"Hold this light," I say. "I need to see what I'm doing."
He crouches beside me, taking the flashlight from Tyler. The light steadies, showing the wound clearly.
For twenty minutes, I work quietly, stitching the torn vessel and tissue. The girl's breathing improves, her color slightly better.
"She needs blood and proper care," I say, sitting back. "But she'll make it to the hospital now."
"The helicopter is three minutes away," the man says. "Blackwater's medical team will take her from here."
I nod and stand up, catching a glimpse of the man's face. I feel like I've seen him somewhere before.
