Chapter 8 #2
‘It’s a medic, here to check on you,’ Santi murmured before striding away, his boots thudding down the hall.
Soleil sat up straighter, tugging the duvet to her waist, fingers smoothing the fabric with shaky, nervous strokes.
She did a quick inspection of herself and blinked.
She was clean, smelling fresh, and dressed in an oversized T-shirt and shorts that were not her own.
Her hair, although messy, was tidy, and she leaned in to see her reflection in the vanity mirror, amazed to see a spotless face.
Had Santi washed her? Undressed her, freakin’ seen her nude?
Her face heated at the thought as the man in question reappeared, with a second male trailing behind.
The newcomer was tall and lean, with a sun-kissed, bronze complexion and a sculpted bone structure.
His dark curly locs lay back in a short knot, and his uniform bore the Signet Medical crest, hugging his frame like he’d been stitched into it.
‘Hola,’ he said with a grin as he entered the room.
Were all the men on this freakin’ executive level so smokin’ hot?
His accent was similar to Santi’s, his eyes a light, bright green as he cast them over her, lighting up with interest. ‘You must be the infamous Soleil who almost gave our XO a heart attack.’
Soleil flushed and glanced at Santi.
He stood in the corner, arms folded across his torso, jaw locked, face unreadable.
The medic didn’t seem to notice, or didn’t care.
‘My name is Rion, chief medic on the ship.’
He flicked out a small scanning device and approached the bed with the confidence of a man whose looks earned him extra leniency. ‘Mind if I check your vitals, bella?’
Soleil blinked. ‘I, uh, sure.’
He leaned in, examining her forehead, her chest, her lungs. His fingers brushed her wrist as he checked her pulse. He smiled again, softer this time.
‘Fast heartbeat, mild fever,’ he said. ‘Though I’m told that’s normal when Alvarro’s looming in the corner.’
‘Rion,’ came Santi’s voice, deep, like a blade dragging across gravel.
The medic held up both hands in mock surrender, not bothering to hide his smirk. ‘Easy, boss. Just trying to check the patient’s vitals.’
Soleil coughed, more from embarrassment than sickness.
Rion clicked his device off and stood back, his face shifting to a solemn expression.
‘You’ve got a lung infection. In the right inferior lobe. It’s nasty, so you’ll need a round of antibiotics and another two to three days of rest.’
He administered a dose of antibiotics via his med scanner. ‘That should do you. No work or stress, and no sleeping under freakin’ cooling vents.’
He winked, then turned toward the door.
‘Maybe next time,’ he added with a grin, ‘I’ll bring soup. Though I suspect you’re in excellent hands.’
Before she could respond, Santi’s arm extended, barring the medic’s path with an almost imperceptible movement.
Rion paused, eyes flicking up to the taller XO’s face.
A spectral arc of energy flashed in the room as Santi growled, scarcely above a whisper, ‘Out.’
Rion’s smile vanished, his face blanched, as he nodded, and left without another word or glance back at Soleil.
The door clicked behind him.
Soleil sat frozen, her pulse still erratic.
Santi stayed where he was, his dark violet eyes fixed on her.
She exhaled and slumped back into the pillows. ‘He was kind.’
‘He was flirting,’ Santi muttered. ‘While you’re sick. Not professional.’
She gave a slight dismissive wave. ‘De nada. He’s so not my type.’
A muscle in his jaw ticked. ‘So, who is, guapa?’
‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’
His narrowed gaze was so intense and lethal, making it clear he did.
She blinked and took an inhale as the air again charged around them.
‘I’m too tired to think,’ she whispered, deflecting from answering.
Eyes locked on her, Santi prowled forward until he stood at the foot of her bed.
His eyes raked over her again, not like the medic’s did; there was no teasing here, no calculated flirtation.
Instead, he radiated care, frustration, and worry.
‘You scared me,’ he rasped at last, his voice hoarse and rough.
‘I didn’t mean to.’
‘I know.’ His mouth pressed into a line. ‘I’m still not over it.’
She eyed his stance, as he rocked on his heels, like a man who didn’t want to get too close but didn’t know how to leave.
She studied the play of muscles beneath his jumpsuit, the way his fingers curled around the forearms crossed over his chest.
She’d never seen him this way, so unguarded and raw.
Without warning, his energy shifted.
‘Let me feed you,’ he rasped, the timbre of his voice curling like smoke through her bones.
Before she could reply, he left, only to return moments later with a tray balanced in one hand.
On it, a warm spread: three small savory pastries wrapped in golden dough, steaming and fragrant with rosemary and garlic; a bowl of clear broth; and a fresh cup of kahawa, the scent of spiced kaffeine making her stomach growl.
He caught the sound and smirked, a brow arching. ‘That’s a good sign.’
‘I didn’t realize how hungry I was,’ she admitted.
He nodded, then sank into the chair beside the bed, muscles moving beneath his jumpsuit in sinuous shifts.
‘Eat,’ he ordered, his voice edged with a graveled authority. ‘You were one sick woman when I picked you up.’
‘Sante, I appreciate this, I’m grateful for it all, truly I am,’ she murmured, still in awe that this scene was even playing out.
He placed the tray on its supported feet before her, and she reached for one of the pastries and dug in.
The first bite made her moan aloud, as hot cheese and herbs exploded on her tongue, the buttery crust melting over it.
‘Gods,’ she whispered, tears prickling her eyes. ‘This is divine.’
He didn’t speak; he studied her with that same solemn, unwavering gaze.
After a few bites, he leaned in, eyes honed in on her.
‘What did those men want, carino? The ones who attacked you. Who sent them after you?’
Her hand stilled midair.
A tremor ran through her.
Vern.
The name crawled across her mind, and the chill it carried arced down her spine.
Santi’s jaw ticked as his eyes raked her face.
His gaze narrowed on her as she blinked.
He rose to his full height with a deep inhale. ‘De nada, I’ll find out,’ he muttered, half to himself. ‘I had Miral pick them up after I cuffed them. She’ll get to the truth.’
He stalked to the door, paused. His hand lingered on the jamb, fingers flexing once.
‘Wait,’ she blurted, her grip tightening on the edge of the blanket, ‘how did I get changed? Cleaned up?’
Her voice trailed off as the image bloomed in her mind, unwanted.
Of herself, unconscious, filthy from alley grime and fever-sweat, and him undressing her.
Seeing her at her most vulnerable and exposed.
Her face flamed with heat that had nothing to do with her lingering malady.
Santi didn’t reply right away.
Instead, he leaned against the door frame, arms folded, one dark brow arched.
Her stomach flipped.
‘Santi,’ she pressed, her utterance a little hoarse, ‘please be real with me.’
He tilted his head, eyes dancing and gleaming like liquid obsidian under a dusk-lit sky. ‘You’re not going to like the answer.’
‘Santi -.’
‘Miral,’ he finally rasped.
Relief whooshed out of her in a gust as she slumped back into the pillows. ‘Oh, thank heavens.’
‘I waited in the next room,’ he added, with a slight quirk to his lips. ‘She took care of you. Even threatened to fling nanite blades at me when I tried to check your fever myself.’
Soleil gave a half-choked laugh. ‘I thought it was you -.’
She trailed off.
‘I know what you thought,’ he said. ‘Know this, mi sol, I’d never do anything to make you feel undignified or disrespected. Savvy?’
Her eyes flicked up to his.
The heat that lived in the depths of his gaze jolted her.
It blazed, the way coals glow under the ash of a slow-burning inferno.
There was no shame in it, only possession and hunger and the unmistakable glint of restraint, like a man balancing on the very edge of control.
‘One more question,’ she whispered. ‘How are you a lycan shifter?’
He took an inhale. ‘My pack and I, from Xander to Rigo, got caught in a nuclear accident on Earth years ago. It fused our cells with those of wolves in the nearby forest and with some other unknown power, transforming our tissues into regenerative aetheric nucleii in the bloodstream. Giving us the ability to shift into transcendent lycans that can flit between mortal and spectral forms. We can stalk through walls and space, burn through minds, freeze blood mid-vein, and tear through flesh and bones in seconds.’
She blinked, and he misunderstood her trepidation.
It wasn’t because she was scared of him; she was worried about what might happen if he realized she was a lycan too.
Albeit an Earth-born one without his spectral powers, she still had the potential to cause significant harm when she shifted.
She sliced her eyes away, her heart a staccato rhythm against her ribs, and focused on finishing her food.
She sensed his eyes on her as she cleared the tray.
‘I’d never harm you, Soleil, you should have figured that much by now. If anything, you’re the safest you’ve ever been.’
His voice, the way he said safe, sounded more like a vow than a reassurance, and for the first time in days, she believed it.
‘Sleep well. We’ll talk in the morning.’
By now her plates were empty, and he prowled to her side, took the tray.
With a chin lift, he stepped out, the door whispering shut behind him.
She exhaled and her body sagged into the pillows, mind whirring even as relief curled around her like a warm tide.
Because, despite the shiver that chased down her spine at his expression, and the knowledge that Santi Alvarro was as dangerous as he was desirable, she also saw the flickers.
Of longing, hunger, and a protectiveness so fierce it burned.
He was also the man who found her in an alley, carried her to his home, had her cared for, and fed her.
No man had ever shown her such kindness in her life, and Santi was an eye-opening revelation that goodhearted males still existed.
She curled her socked toes against the plush bedding.
The mattress under her was deliciously warm.
If this moment were a fragile gift from the universe, she received it with gratitude.
She leaned back into the plush headboard, closed her eyes, and let herself indulge in bliss, however fleeting.
That, and in the steady, undeniable pull of a man she recognized she shouldn’t want, but couldn’t stop yearning for.