Chapter 4 #2
“Help her,” I growled, my voice rough with the effort of holding back the snarl building in my throat.
Teresa was already moving, grabbing a stack of towels from the counter. “Put her on the exam table—gently, Dakvaar.”
I didn’t like letting go of her, but I had no choice. I lowered Sofia onto the padded surface, my hands lingering until the last possible second. She whimpered, her fingers curling into the fabric of my coat like she was afraid I’d disappear.
Never.
“It’s okay, dkaar,” I rasped, my fingertips gentle on her uninjured cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Martha was already at her side, her fingers gentle as she tilted Sofia’s chin to examine the damage. “Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice soft but efficient. “Can you tell me your name?”
Sofia’s eyes fluttered, her gaze unfocused. “S-Sofia,” she slurred, then winced as Martha probed the swelling along her cheekbone.
My claws flexed, digging into my palms. Her name? Mine.
Teresa was already cutting away the sleeve of Sofia’s coat with a pair of trauma shears, her expression tightening as she exposed the purpling bruises already forming around her wrist.
“We need X-rays on this,” she said, glancing at Martha. “And a neuro check. She’s got a hell of a shiner coming in.”
Martha nodded, reaching for a penlight. “Sofia, can you follow my finger with your eyes?”
Sofia tried, but her movements were sluggish, her breathing shallow. My chest ached like I’d taken a puck to the sternum without pads.
“Dakvaar,” Tessa said, her voice firm but not unkind, “we need space to work. You’re crowding her.”
I bared my teeth, my Kteer snarling at the idea of leaving her side.
“She’ll be okay,” Martha promised, her hand pressing briefly against my arm. “But we need to make sure. Go wait in the hall. We’ll call you the second we know anything.”
I didn’t want to. Every instinct screamed at me to stay, to guard, to protect. But the rational part of my brain—the part that had spent years honing discipline—knew they were right. I could do more for her if I didn’t get in their way.
So I forced myself to step back. Then another step. Then another, until I was outside the door, my shoulder pressed against the wall, my fists clenched at my sides.
Mine.
I told myself—my Kteer, my heart—that I could hear everything they were doing in the exam room, and I could be back at her side in a heartbeat.
The door hadn’t even fully swung shut behind me before I heard the rapid approach of footsteps.
“Dak!” Torrk’s voice was loud, as always, but there was an edge to it now—worry. “What the fuck was that? We saw you haul ass in here like the ref was after you, and—” The shorter male skidded to a stop in front of me, his dark eyes wide. “Who’s the female?”
I didn’t answer. My jaw was locked so tight I could’ve cracked a tusk.
Kardok appeared beside him, his usual smirk absent. He took one look at my face and exhaled sharply. “Shit. That’s her, isn’t it?”
I glared at him, but he didn’t even flinch when he elaborated. “Your Mate?”
The word hung between us, heavy and undeniable. My Kteer rumbled in approval, but the rest of me was too raw to feel anything but the need to do something.
Torrk’s mouth fell open. “Mate? No way.” He turned to Kardok. “You knew?”
Kardok shrugged. “I suspected. He’s been off for weeks. Distracted. Mopey.” He smirked. “Classic signs of a male who’s found his Mate but is too stubborn to do anything about it.”
I growled, knowing Kardok had been that idiot last year. I’d known, but I hadn’t been able to do anything about it. There was a difference.
Yeah, well, I’d fucking done something about it this morning, hadn’t I?
Torrk ignored me, grinning like an idiot. “Well, damn. Dak, you sly bastard. When were you gonna tell us?”
“Never,” I snapped. I hadn’t been certain Sofia would accept me. Still wasn’t.
Kardok’s smirk faded. “What happened?”
I didn’t answer. The images were too fresh—the way that male had looked at her, the way he’d hurt her, the way her scent had been thick with terror. My claws flexed again, and I had to force my hands to unclench.
Torrk’s expression sobered. “Dak…”
“Leave it,” I bit out. “And don’t call me that.”
“Not a chance,” the younger male announced. “And I’m going to keep asking.”
He would, damn him. Everyone knew goalies were just a little bit strange, and our first stringer was no exception. At times I thought he went out of his way to be as annoying as possible…or possibly he just did it to irritate me, since I was the one most likely to lecture him on restraint.
Kardok crossed his arms. “Tell us, Dakvaar.”
I turned my head slowly, meeting his gaze. I didn’t scowl, but only because I rarely allowed my emotions to show. Kardok was the only one on the team who could get away with pushing me like this, and even then, it was a risk.
But he didn’t back down. “You brought her here because you trust us,” he said, his voice low. In the last six months, his Mate had taught him how to soften his words, and I hated that he used that skill now. “So trust us now. What happened?”
The words tasted like ash. “A male hurt her.”
Torrk’s usual cheerful demeanor immediately darkened. “A human?”
I nodded once.
Kardok’s tusks flashed as his lips peeled back. “Where is he?”
“Unconscious. In the alley behind the Sunrise Café.”
Torrk’s brows went up. “You left him alive?”
I didn’t answer. I should’ve killed him. I’d wanted to kill him. But my control had reasserted itself, reminding me that Sofia was my priority.
Kardok exhaled through his nose. “We’ll handle it.”
“No.” The word came out sharper than I intended. “I will.”
I needed to know who he was first. I needed information. I needed to know my Mate was healthy.
Torrk opened his mouth to argue, but the door to the medical wing swung open before he could. Martha stepped out, her expression unreadable. “Dakvaar.”
I was at her side in an instant. “Is she—?”
“She’s stable,” Martha said quickly, holding up a hand.
“No concussion, thankfully. Her wrist is sprained, not broken, but it’s going to hurt like hell for a few days.
The bruising on her face…” She pressed her lips together.
“That’s going to take longer to heal. We’ve cleaned her up, given her something for the pain. She’s resting now.”
My shoulders sagged slightly, the first hint of relief cutting through the rage. “Can I see her?”
Martha hesitated. “She’s…confused. Scared. She keeps asking for her daughter.”
Rosa.
My chest tightened. “She’s in their apartment building; one of their neighbors runs a daycare, and Rosa is there on Mondays.”
I saw Martha exhale in what might have been relief—relief that I clearly knew something about Sofia’s life?—as she held up the bag Sofia had been holding earlier. She handed the whole thing to Torrk but pulled out a wallet first.