Chapter 4
Victor fled—there was no other word for it—into his office, closing the door behind him. His hands were shaking again, his control fraying at the edges. He pressed his palms flat on the desk and breathed, counting, forcing Hyde back into the cage.
Every moment of the appointment was etched on his mind—the feel of her soft curves beneath his hands and the sight of the perfect, pale skin stretched taut across her round little stomach.
The taut little peaks of her nipples beneath the flimsy gown.
The sweetness of her scent filling the sterile room, making it almost impossible to think.
She was attracted to him. The realization had sent a bolt of heat straight through him as Hyde rumbled approval.
He had to force himself to step back, to put distance between them before he did something irreparably stupid.
He’d managed to conduct the exam with his usual clinical precision, but every touch was torture.
And the sound of her baby’s heartbeat, a steady drumbeat of life that resonated in his bones… He’d heard hundreds of fetal heartbeats in his career, but this one was different. This one called to something deep and primal inside him—the part of him that was purely Hyde.
He remembered the way the tears had streamed down her face as she stared at the screen with an expression of such raw, unguarded love that it made his chest ache.
She’d been doing all of it alone—the appointments, the fear, the wonder—without anyone to hold her hand or share the miracle of that tiny, perfect heartbeat.
Hyde had surged forward with a possessive rage so strong that he’d nearly lost his grip on the transducer.
Ours to protect.
He’d never felt anything so powerful. In thirty-six years, Hyde had never reacted like this. He’d felt attraction, yes, but this was different. This was an all-consuming need to claim, to protect, to—
No. The baby wasn’t his. The woman wasn’t his. He was her doctor and nothing more. By the time she knocked on the door, he’d managed to lock himself down. Barely.
“Come in.”
She entered, fully dressed again, but her eyes were wide and uncertain.
She looked so vulnerable that it was all he could do not to go to her, to wrap her in his arms and tell her she was safe.
Instead, he forced himself to remain at his desk as she sat in the chair across from him, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
He picked up a pen to keep from reaching for her.
“Everything is progressing well,” he said, his voice clipped and professional. “The baby is healthy, your weight gain is appropriate, and your vitals are good, aside from the elevated heart rate. We’ll keep an eye on that.”
He paused, the question he needed to ask burning in his throat.
“Your records indicate you’re currently single. Who will be your support system here in Fairhaven Falls?”
She stiffened, her chin lifting in a gesture he was beginning to recognize as defensive. “I’m… managing. I’m quite independent.”
Alone, Hyde snarled, and he had to loosen his grip on the pen to keep from crushing it.
“Independence is an admirable quality, Miss Bennington. But pregnancy, childbirth, and child-rearing are not solitary endeavors. You will need help.”
Her eyes flashed. “I’m aware of my responsibilities, Doctor.
I’ve had six months to come to terms with them.
I don’t have a partner, but that doesn’t mean I’m completely without resources.
I have a comfortable place to live and adequate funds.
” She paused. “In fact, I may be taking a position organizing the town archives as well.”
Every muscle in his body went rigid. “Working for Mayor Ironmane?”
“Yes. We’re meeting to discuss the job this afternoon.”
The archives? That moldy, dust-choked basement in the town hall. Alone, surrounded by crumbling records and God knew what else. The building was old, the stairs narrow and uneven. The ventilation was terrible. She could trip, fall, inhale mold spores—
“That’s unsuitable work for a pregnant woman.”
The words came out harsher than he’d intended. Her eyes widened, then narrowed.
“I beg your pardon?”
He forced himself to soften his tone, though Hyde was clawing at his ribs. “The town archives are located in the basement of the town hall. The air quality is poor, the lighting inadequate, and the stairs are a hazard. In your condition—”
“In my condition, I’m perfectly capable of walking down stairs and organizing dusty files.” Her voice had gone cold. “I appreciate your concern, Dr. Jackson, but I want the work. And I’m quite capable of assessing my own limitations.”
Stubborn. The word held grudging admiration. She was small and alone and vulnerable, but she had a spine of steel. Hyde rumbled with unexpected approval even as the urge to lock her somewhere safe—his house, his bed, anywhere but that death trap of a basement—threatened to overwhelm him.
“I’m not questioning your capabilities.” He set the pen down carefully. “I’m advising you, as your physician, that the position poses unnecessary risks. There are other options. The library, perhaps. Or—”
“The library has a full staff. The archives need organizing, and I’m qualified to do it.” She stood, her movements stiff. “If that’s all, Doctor?”
It wasn’t. He wanted to forbid it outright, wanted to call Houston and explain exactly why putting a pregnant woman in that basement was criminally negligent.
Wanted to offer her a position here, in his clean, safe office where he could monitor her every day and where Hyde could stand guard over her.
Insane. I’m being insane.
He rose as well, his jaw tight. “I’d like to see you again in two weeks. Petal will schedule the appointment.”
“Of course.” She moved toward the door, then paused, her hand on the handle. When she looked back, her expression had softened slightly. “Thank you. For the ultrasound. It was… it meant a great deal.”
The gratitude in her voice made his chest ache.
“Take care of yourself, Miss Bennington.”
“I will.”
She left, and the room felt suddenly hollow. He stood frozen, listening to her footsteps fade, the front door close.
Hyde howled, and he clenched his hands on the desk so hard the wood creaked, fighting the urge to go after her. To follow her to the town hall, to stand between her and Houston, to—
The phone on his desk rang, shrill and demanding, and he snatched it up.
“What.”
“Mrs. Clarkson is on the line again,” Petal said calmly. “She thinks she might be having a reaction to her new medication. A slight rash on her left elbow.”
The sheer, mundane normalcy of it was a lifeline. He breathed out, a slow, shaky exhale, and Hyde receded, sullen but contained.
“Put her through.”
The rest of the day was a marathon of mundane complaints and minor ailments.
Each one was a small victory, a reminder of who he had chosen to be.
He was Dr. Victor Jackson, a man of science and control, not a monster ruled by instinct and obsession.
He prescribed antihistamines for the rash, recommended a different ointment for a persistent case of eczema, and patiently explained to a were-badger why his winter hibernation instincts were causing his cholesterol to spike.
Through it all, the image of Chloe’s face, wet with tears as she stared at the screen, remained fixed in his mind. Mate.
By five o’clock, when the last patient left, he felt scraped raw, his nerves exposed. He needed to run. To exhaust himself until Hyde was too tired to whisper threats and promises in his mind. He needed control.
But instead of heading for the basement, he found himself at the front window, staring out at the street. The sun was setting over the mountains, painting the sky in shades of rose and lavender. The Town Hall’s white clock tower was just visible over the trees. The archives. In the basement.
He checked his watch. Five-fifteen. Her meeting with Houston had been at one. She would be gone by now, wouldn’t she? Surely even the most stubborn woman wouldn’t spend her first day in a dusty basement.
Unless she is that stubborn. And that alone.
Hyde surged in a primal wave of protective fury. Before he could stop himself, he was shrugging on his coat, grabbing his keys, and striding out the door.
“Going out, Doctor?” Petal called from the reception desk, her voice carefully neutral.
“A patient follow-up,” he bit out, not looking back. “Please lock up.”
The cool evening air did nothing to ease the heat of Hyde’s fury.
The street was quiet, bathed in the golden glow of the old-fashioned streetlamps as they came on with the dusk.
Fairhaven Falls was settling in for the night, curtains drawn, lights warm in the windows.
This town was his sanctuary, one he’d built through years of discipline and control.
And now Chloe Bennington was here, threatening to dismantle it all with a single tear.