Chapter Seven
Wulf
Why didn’t I ask for his number?
By the next morning when I settled in at the clinic, I must have asked myself the question a hundred times.
Maybe because he was so vulnerable, sharing his pain, I didn’t want to take advantage. From the feel of his leg, he’d not only injured it worse than I’d ever seen, his care had been less than it could have been.
An athlete like him was not the same as any person on the street.
He was used to using his body like a fine musical instrument.
He’d been an elite among shifters, if he was hoping to get into the Skin to Fur Tournament.
Even his hobbies made use of the muscles he’d trained.
And one misstep did this to him. I could have said it was common.
Most accidents happened when least expected.
While working out, he’d have been aware of everything he did, where each step landed, the position of his hands, the angle of his back.
His neck. But when doing something as simple as going back to the car for a forgotten item, his alertness was less.
But I didn’t try to explain that because it wouldn’t fix anything to say so.
What would?
While I knelt in front of him and kept him talking, I carefully assessed his injury. He’d had therapy, clearly, but not the right kind. The muscle had healed in such a way that it would never be what it had been.
If I’d seen him right after he did it, I might have done better. Perhaps not fixed it entirely, perhaps not to the point where he’d have qualified for the tournament, but certainly better than it was. And now, it would be much harder and more painful than it ever needed to be.
When I founded the clinic for shifters, I had plans for helping out those who the existing system could not, for dealing with the differences between animal and human, skin and fur.
Some injuries were only in the beast, only appeared when they were in ascendance.
Others the exact opposite, in the human only.
And some…in both. For most, a shift would heal what was harmed, but this must be one of those injuries just too severe. Did his wolf still communicate well with him? I would need to ask about that in order to help him.
He would need to know a great number of things.
Bringing up a chart, I began to make notes.
A real scan would make it easier to see the situation, but my fingers had told me enough for now.
Shifters had a flexibility that humans lacked.
Giving him a chance to undo enough of the damage to live a pain-free life as long as he was willing to accept some limitations and was willing to work hard.
I noted adjustments and exercises, had the receptionist reschedule any appointments that were possible in order to lay out a whole treatment plan for Striker.
I’d found him just in time because eventually even a wolf shifter would lose some mobility permanently.
The young athlete’s previous exercise regimen had bought him time, but his face showed what he’d been through.
When a person had unrelenting pain, even low-grade, it was hard on them.
Affected all aspects of wellbeing including sleep, eating, and learning. They could never totally relax.
So, while I couldn’t make him as good as new, maybe I could help him get a good night’s sleep.
Enjoy a meal. Play a scene for reasons other than masking another kind of pain.
I should have gotten his number, but since he was a member of the club, maybe Evander or someone could help me get in touch.
I couldn’t ask them for contact information because privacy was paramount at Crowned, but maybe they could pass my information along to him?
I hadn’t told him what I did for a living or basically anything about me, but the night had been about him and I just let it get by me.
While I examined the injury and massaged the muscles and guided him through stretches, I didn’t even remember that he might not know what I did for a job.
I just wanted to make him feel better, and by the time I gathered him in my arms, he’d relaxed so much, the lines of pain and tension faded from his face.
I needed to tell him about myself, what I did for a living and what I could do for him.
I helped many people every day, but rarely did I have the opportunity to do so much good for someone. Especially someone my wolf was already convinced belonged to us. Never had I believed there might be another person for me, another mate, but the moment I touched him my wolf howled and I knew.
But not only could I get to know him better, find out if he felt the same but I could…
I could—
I could do nothing.
Because dating a patient lay completely outside the rules I operated under. And I would have to choose between mate and patient. A choice I could never make.
His pain poured over me, and I had the key to easing it, but he admitted to both physical and mental pain. If he was my mate, for me to choose to be his therapist instead, that could also hurt him.
And for just a moment I’d thought I could see a future.