5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Liam
T aylor’s eyes widen and her lips part in a silent gasp. Ripples of shock roll over her delicate features as her brow furrows and her emerald eyes cloud with trepidation. Every muscle in her lithe frame goes rigid. Her scent shifts, the soft rose notes souring as fear bleeds into the mix.
I've pushed too far, moved too fast.
“It's no hassle, I promise. But Faye isn't always at the clinic. If you were to lose consciousness again...” I trail off, letting the implication hang heavy between us. “Time would be of the essence. Cindi doesn’t live in the hotel; if something were to happen, she might not find you until morning.”
Taylor worries her bottom lip between her teeth, her brow furrowed in an expression of skepticism that has my heart clenching. “Why would you do that, though?” she presses, giving voice to the doubts I can smell rolling off her. “Why is my health so important to you? I'm sure you're here to visit your family, not... not play nurse to some stranger you barely know.”
She's looking for holes, for cracks in my story. The last thing I want is to push her further away before I've even had a chance to show her what we could be.
“If you're uncomfortable with the arrangement, I can go back to my parents' place,” I offer, the words like ash on my tongue even as I force them out. “But I'll ask Riley to stay here with you instead, so you're not alone.”
Tension eases from her shoulders ever so slightly at that, the rigid line of her spine relaxing incrementally. A small victory, but I'll take what I can get in this moment.
“At the very least, you should let me cook you some lunch,” I try again, keeping my tone light and casual in the hopes of putting her more at ease. “You missed your meal earlier, and I'd be happy to tell you about some of the local hot spots you can check out while you eat. I’ll try not to be too boring. I promise.”
I silently hope she’ll let me show her around. The more time we spend together, the faster the bond will strengthen. I wonder if my blood in her veins will strengthen the bond faster than it normally might.
At the least, my blood is healing her. Her pallid complexion has given way to a warm, healthy flush, the sickly sweet scent of disease fading as her natural fragrance of woodland rose petals grows stronger.
My cock swells against the confines of my jeans, a familiar ache blossoming low in my belly as my wolf growls its approval. I've been in a near-constant state of arousal since first catching her scent in Sally's Diner.
I shift my stance and try to subtly adjust to a more comfortable position, a move that doesn't go unnoticed if Cindi's knowing smirk is anything to go by. I shoot her a warning look, silently begging her to keep my predicament to herself.
Thankfully, the crunch of tires on gravel provides a timely distraction, and I turn to the window just in time to see Zane pull up in Taylor's sedan, Mitch's cruiser right behind him. Relief washes over me as I watch them exit their respective vehicles, Zane disappearing around the side of the building only to reemerge a few moments later with Taylor's suitcase in hand.
“There you are,” he says with an easy grin, handing the luggage off to its owner as Mitch joins us in the lobby. “All taken care of.”
Taylor accepts the luggage with a murmured word of thanks, her brow furrowed in an expression of profound bewilderment. “Everyone in this town is just... so friendly,” she muses, shaking her head slowly as if she can't quite wrap her mind around the concept.
Of course she's confused. She has no way of understanding the true depth of the bond that links us all, the sense of family and unity that comes from being part of a pack. Not yet, at least.
It's one of the things I miss most when I'm out in the human world. Here, in Willowbrook, we’re a pack. We look after our own, protect and cherish them. And Taylor, my mate, my destiny... she’s the most precious of them all.
“It's all part of the service. We want to make sure you're comfortable here for the duration of your stay,” Zane replies with an easy shrug.
Mitch's gaze finds mine over the rim of his hat, and I see the understanding there, the subtle nod of acknowledgment and acceptance. He knows, of course–could scent the truth on me the moment I carried Taylor's unconscious form into the clinic.
“I'll be on standby. In case any... wild wolves are in the vicinity,” Mitch says.
Taylor’s apprehension spikes and she raises stricken eyes to the sheriff. “Should I be worried? About these wolves, I mean?”
“You'll be just fine now that Liam is here to watch over you,” Cindi reassures her with a warm smile. She steps out from behind the desk and gestures to the corridor that leads to the hotel’s rooms. “Why don't I show you to your room, hon? You must be exhausted after such an eventful day.”
I take Taylor's suitcase from her and we follow Cindi down the corridor toward the guest rooms. Through our bond, I can sense Taylor's appreciation for the cozy space Cindi shows her… the warm, inviting colors, the plush bedding, the view of the gardens through the windows. There's also a flicker of unease, a desire to retreat and shut the world out for a while.
I'm not ready to let her slip away just yet, not when the need to keep her close thrums through my veins. I know it must seem overbearing, even untoward, the way I'm inserting myself into her life. She doesn't know me; doesn't understand the forces at play.
My wolf, however, knows exactly what's happening. He snarls and growls, demanding that I claim our mate immediately, that I stake my claim and make her ours before anything else can get in the way.
Get a grip , I chide him mentally, struggling to maintain my control. We can't just pounce on her like that. It would only send her running in the opposite direction .
I promise him a run later tonight, once Taylor is settled and sleeping. A chance to burn off some of this restless energy, to sate the raw urges raging just beneath the surface. For now, though, we need to be patient. We need to let Taylor heal and give her time to regain her strength before dropping the bombshell of her true nature—and mine—on her shoulders.
The wolf grumbles, displeased but momentarily placated by my reasoning. He knows, as I do, that rushing headlong into this would only end in disaster.
Still, the guilt gnaws at me. She deserves to know the truth, to understand the depth of the bond that has already begun to forge between us. I am her mate, her destiny, just as she’s mine.
But one look at her pallid complexion, at the fatigue etched into the lines around her eyes and the slump of her shoulders, and I know that now is not the time. She's been unwell for far too long. I need to be patient and give her time to heal and regain her equilibrium before I turn her world entirely upside down.
“I'd still like to make you some lunch. You must be starving after missing your meal earlier,” I suggest, keeping my tone light and casual.
Taylor hesitates and her eyes glide from me to the room. I sense her looking for an excuse so I interject before she can make an excuse. “It will help with the blood transfusion. And I make a mean burger. Maybe even better than at the diner.”
“Don’t let Sally hear you say that,” Cindi’s laughs. Her gaze flicks to mine as she continues. “But I do happen to have all the makings in the kitchen as long as you make me one too, right Liam? I’ll be in the garden. Just call me when they’re made. Would that be all right if I join your lunch, Taylor?”
I know exactly what she’s done. Cindi is a romantic at heart and I know how lonely she is out here. However, like male shifters, the female shifters of our town haven’t met their mates either. Time is running out for all of us and this is Cindi’s way of bringing us together and having the happy ending she may never have the chance to experience.
“Oh well, yes. That’s very generous. I’m happy to pay extra…” Taylor says.
Cindi waves her hand in a don’t-worry gesture. “I had everything stocked anyway, and I’d love some company. It’s lonely out here and I love a bit of girl time whenever I can get it. These males can get a bit overbearing sometimes.”
A timid smile curves Taylor’s full lips. “That’s very generous. I’d like that. Thank you, Cindi.”
Cindi sends me a quick wink as she brushes past. I drop Taylor’s case inside the room and follow both Taylor and Cindi to the kitchen. Cindi says something to Taylor, who chuckles. Her shoulders loosen as she follows Cindi through the door.
“I’ll leave you both to it,” Cindi says. She sends Taylor a warm smile before she leaves us alone.
“Have a seat,” I gesture to the small kitchen table as I move to the counter. “I'll get started on those burgers.”
Taylor hesitates, her eyes flicking between me and the empty chairs. “I can help, if you'd like? It's the least I can do after you've gone to all this trouble.”
I wave her off. “I'm a doctor, remember? Multitasking and making quick meals is kind of a requirement with my schedule.”
Understanding blooms in her gaze as the pieces click into place. “That's right, you mentioned working at Northwestern Memorial, didn't you? That's quite a trek across the country from there to Willowbrook.”
Grabbing the necessary ingredients, I nod. “I grew up here, but I wanted to expand my experience, work at a bigger hospital for a while.” I don't elaborate on why I left. That lack of mates meant Willowbrook’s declining birth rate.
“Well, thank you,” she murmurs, settling into one of the chairs. “For helping me, I mean. I certainly didn't expect to be such an imposition when I came here.”
I open my mouth to reassure her, but she presses on before I have the chance.
“Do you... do you treat many people with aplastic anemia?” Her fingers worry at a stray thread on the hem of her shirt, a nervous gesture that has my wolf rumbling with the need to soothe her. “At your hospital, I mean.”
Keeping my movements casual, I continue prepping the burgers as I consider my response. “Some,” I admit slowly. “But you're the first I've encountered with this particular... strain.”
Her brow furrows, and I can sense the melancholy rolling off her in waves, the echoes of it reverberating down our bond. “I've been told by many doctors that they can't help me,” she confesses in a small voice. “That I... that I only have a few months left, at best.”
The grief, the utter desolation in her tone is a kick to the gut. I taste the bitterness of it on my tongue, see the shadows creeping over her lovely features as the weight of her fate presses down upon her.
“Not always. I’ve seen people recover,” I say. I don’t tell her these are human patients with human diseases. The strain of her Anemia would never have been detected. Should she never have found Willowbrook, should I not have decided to visit Mom and Dad, she would have died. “You’ll recover, Taylor. I’ll make sure of it.”
Suddenly, she's on her feet, pacing the length of the kitchen with restless, agitated strides. “Why are you saying things like that to me? Don’t you think if there was any way of getting better I would have found it by now?”
My wolf snarls, demanding that I pull her into my arms, that I soothe away her anguish and make her understand that she'll never have to face this darkness again. It's all I can do to hold myself in check, to keep from crossing that line before she's ready.
“I—”
I want to say she’ll recover now she has the benefits of lupine blood. That all she needed was more wolf DNA to help regenerate what already runs through her, but I stop because that’s one sure way of never seeing her again.
“You don’t have to be nice and pretend like...” She trails off, shaking her head as a single tear escapes to trace a shining path down her cheek. “Like anything can come of this. I'm dying, Doctor Miller. If this is some kind of cruel joke, I don't have the strength for games.”
Before I can think better of it, I cross over to her in two long strides, gathering her into my arms and pulling her trembling form against me. She stiffens at the unexpected contact, her entire body going rigid but I can't bear the thought of letting her slip through my fingers when she's so close to unraveling.
“Let me go!”
The words are muffled. She presses her palms against my chest and pushes away but I don't release her. I can’t bear not to have her in my arms. Not when the bond aches like this with her pain.
I want to tell her she has nothing to worry about. That she will recover, but I also know she won’t accept that. So I don't speak. I don't offer her empty reassurances. Instead, I act on instinct.
I cradle the back of her head in one broad palm and I angle her face up until our gazes lock. I drown in the molten depths of those emerald irises. For a fleeting moment, the world stills and holds its breath. Then I lean in, closing that final distance to capture her lips with mine.