Chapter 4: Healing Hands
676words
A soft knock woke me. When I opened the door, Lucien Frost stood there, looking impossibly put-together. In daylight, he was breathtaking—tall and elegant, with silver-blond hair that caught the morning light and features that belonged on Renaissance paintings.
"I hope I didn't wake you," he said, his voice gentle as a summer breeze.
"You did, but it's fine." I ran a hand through my tangled hair. "I should probably know your name if you're one of my potential... whatever you are."
He smiled, and it transformed his face from merely beautiful to luminous. "Guardian. And yes, introductions were somewhat overlooked yesterday."
Twenty minutes later, we were driving through mountain roads I'd never seen before.
"How do you hide all this?" I asked. "Territories, werewolf villages?"
Lucien's long, graceful fingers tapped the steering wheel. "Humans see what they expect to see."
The Eastern Territory was nothing like North. Instead of a village, we approached an elegant estate. Gardens surrounded a stone manor that looked centuries old.
Inside, the building was a fascinating mix of medical facility and ancient library. People—werewolves—moved about with purpose, some in lab coats, others carrying books or herbs.
"You're doctors?"
"Healers," Lucien corrected, his pale blue eyes warming as he watched his people work. "We treat werewolves who can't exactly check into human hospitals."
We entered a room where several injured werewolves were being treated. A woman with a nasty gash looked up.
"Is that her? The female Alpha?"
Lucien nodded, his hand lightly touching the small of my back. That simple contact sent warmth spreading through me.
"Would you mind?" he asked, guiding my hand toward the woman's wound.
A strange heat spread through my palm, and the wound began to close slightly.
"What the hell?" I yanked my hand back.
"Remarkable," Lucien murmured, his eyes shining with something like pride. "And you haven't even transformed yet."
"Is this why everyone's so interested in me? Because I can heal people?"
"Partly," he admitted. "Female Alphas have unique abilities."
We ended in a beautiful library. Lucien moved among the ancient books with reverence.
"If I were your guardian," he said, his voice dropping to an intimate tone, "I would teach you to harness your healing abilities."
"And what would you get out of it?" I asked bluntly.
His pale blue eyes met mine, intense and vulnerable. "A chance to rebuild what was lost."
When I reached for his hand, I felt a flash of his pain—deep, old grief that took my breath away.
"The guardian bond," he explained, not letting go of my fingers. "It's already forming."
As we drove back, I found myself studying his profile—the elegant line of his jaw, the way sunlight turned his hair almost luminous.
"Why do you want to be my guardian? The real reason."
Lucien was quiet for a moment. "Because when I look at you, I see hope."
We arrived back to find Griffin waiting, his expression dark.
"There's been an attack," he said. "Hunters."
As Lucien drove away to help, Griffin studied my face. "Did you enjoy the Eastern Territory?"
"It was... not what I expected."
"And Lucien? What did you think of him?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Is this jealousy, Griffin Hawthorne?"
"Caution," he corrected, but his jaw tightened. "The Western representative is waiting. He's... eager to show you his territory."
"Let me guess—you don't approve."
Griffin's amber eyes darkened. "Just remember that charm can hide many things, Lyra."
"Speaking from experience?" I couldn't resist asking.
His expression softened slightly. "No. Speaking from concern."
As if summoned by our conversation, the violet-eyed man appeared in the doorway, his smile dangerous and inviting.
"Ready for some fun, little miracle?" he asked. "I promise the Western Territory is nothing like what you've seen so far."
Looking at his wicked smile, I believed him. And despite Griffin's warning—or maybe because of it—I was intrigued.
This supernatural dating game was getting more complicated by the hour.
