Chapter 22 #3
I administered the injection with steady hands, years of medical training overriding the butterflies in my stomach. As the serum entered his bloodstream, I monitored his vital signs, watching for any immediate reactions.
Please work. Please work. Please work.
“You’ll need to stay here for the first four hours,” I explained, disposing of the used syringe. “After that, assuming everything looks stable, you can return to your home with a monitoring device. We’ll need you back here at twenty-four-hour intervals for full assessments.”
Logan flexed his hand, staring at it as if expecting immediate changes. “How will I know if it’s working?”
“The tremors should be the first symptom to improve,” Brody explained, slipping his arm around my waist in a gesture that had become as natural as breathing.
The casual possessiveness of the touch made my heart swell with love for this man who’d once been so careful to maintain his distance.
“Then the involuntary shifting episodes should decrease in frequency and intensity.”
“For now, try to relax,” I added, leaning into Brody’s touch, savoring the solid warmth of him against my side. “Your body needs to integrate the serum without additional stress.”
The next four hours passed in tense observation.
By hour three, Logan reported feeling “different,” not better or worse, just changed in ways he struggled to articulate.
His vital signs remained stable, and preliminary neural readings showed promising activity in the pathways that typically deteriorated with pre-feral progression.
Hope blossomed in my chest, tentative but growing.
“So far, so good,” I murmured to Brody as we prepared to send Logan home with a monitoring device.
Brody stood behind me, his chest against my back, chin resting on top of my head, a position we’d naturally fallen into that somehow made me feel both protected and equal.
I loved these moments of casual intimacy, the way our bodies fit together as if designed specifically for each other.
“But the real test will be the twenty-four-hour mark.”
He turned me in his arms, tipping my chin up to meet his gaze.
The love shining in his eyes made my breath catch.
“One step at a time, Dr. Dhahabu. We’ve gotten further than anyone else ever has.
” The pride in his voice made my heart swell.
He brushed his thumb across my cheek in a gentle caress.
“And regardless of what happens, I’ll be right here. ”
“Promise?” I asked, the word slipping out before I could stop it, a glimpse of the vulnerable girl I’d once been, who’d watched everyone she loved walk away.
His expression softened, understanding flashing in his eyes. He knew my fears, just as I knew his. “Always,” he replied, sealing the promise with a kiss that left me breathless.
The next day passed in a blur of data analysis and anxious waiting.
Brody kept me grounded, bringing me coffee when I got lost in calculations, massaging my shoulders when tension made them ache, and pulling me away from the lab for brief walks to Main Square when my focus grew too intense.
His touch was constant, a hand at the small of my back, fingers brushing mine as he passed me equipment, his lips against my temple.
Each contact affirmed that I wasn’t alone anymore. That I had a partner in all things.
When Logan returned for his twenty-four-hour check-in, the changes were subtle but encouraging. Logan’s tremors had decreased by approximately 30 percent, and he had gone a full day without an involuntary partial shift, the longest period of stability he’d experienced in months.
“It’s working,” Logan said, unable to keep the hope from his voice as he held out his hand, the tremor noticeably diminished. “I can feel it. My inner beast is still there, but he’s… calmer somehow. Like he’s not fighting to take over anymore.”
I tried to temper my excitement with caution. “These are promising signs,” I agreed, “but we need to see how things progress over the full seventy-two-hour period.”
Don’t get ahead of yourself, I cautioned internally. Good science takes time. Patience.
That night, lying in Brody’s arms in the cabin we now shared, I finally allowed myself to hope.
The moonlight spilled through the windows, painting his strong features in silver and shadow.
I traced the contours of his face with my fingertips, memorizing every line, every plane, every texture.
His stubble rough against my palm, the softness of his lips. Mine, my cheetah purred. All mine.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice a low rumble in the darkness. He captured my wandering hand, pressing a kiss to my palm that sent warmth zinging in me.
“How strange it is,” I admitted, “to finally stop running.” I settled more deeply against him, my head finding that perfect spot on his chest where I could hear his heartbeat.
“All these years, I thought I was running toward something—discovery, achievement, answers. But I was just running away. From connection. From belonging. From this.”
He tightened his arms around me, tangling one hand in my hair with gentle pressure. “And now?”
I tilted my face up to meet his gaze, finding his eyes in the moonlight. “Now I’ve found my home.” The simple truth of it caught in my throat. “Not this cabin. Not the Ridge. You.”
Something shifted in his expression, a vulnerability I’d never seen before, like I’d unlocked a door he’d kept barricaded. He brushed his thumb across my cheekbone with such reverence that tears pricked behind my eyes.
“After my grandma Una died,” he said quietly, “I thought I’d never have a home again.
Just places I existed.” His voice roughened with emotion.
“Then I came to the Ridge with my pack brothers and found peace. But there was something still missing… you. And now you came back into my life, all fire and fury and beauty, and suddenly I have something to fight for again… you.”
We lay in comfortable silence for several minutes, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin.
The moonlight shifted through the windows, casting silvery patterns across the bed.
In this perfect moment of peace, my mind returned to our work, to what we’d accomplished together.
“What if it really works?” I whispered into the darkness, my head resting on his chest. “What if we’ve actually found the cure?”
He traced lazy patterns on my bare shoulder, sending pleasant shivers down my spine. “Then you’ll have changed the lives of unmated males everywhere,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “And given them the time they need to find what we have… a fated mate and love.”
I propped myself up on one elbow to look at him properly. In the moonlight, with his eyes soft with love and his claiming mark against his skin, he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. How had I denied myself this for so long?
“Do you think the unmated males will understand? That the serum is just a bridge until they find their mates?” I asked.
His smile made my heart flip. He lifted his hand to cup my cheek, his touch reverent.
“They will. Nothing compares to what happens when you find your fated mate.” He brushed his thumb across my lower lip, his eyes darkening as they followed the movement.
“The serum may stabilize their neural pathways, but only the mate bond can make them feel truly complete.”
“Like us,” I whispered, the simple truth of it still sometimes overwhelming.
“Like us,” he agreed, pulling me down for a kiss that quickly escalated into much more. He slid his hands against my skin, callused palms skimming up my sides to cup my breasts. I gasped against his mouth as he circled my hard nipples with his thumbs, pleasure coiled inside me.
“I’ll never get enough of you,” he growled, rolling us so that I was beneath him, his powerful body caging mine in the most delicious way. “A thousand years wouldn’t be enough.”
“Prove it,” I said, wrapping my legs around his waist to pull him closer.
His answering smile was pure predator. “Gladly.”