Page 11 of Bear with Me

“It’s still inflamed. Your bear isn’t showing herself yet. Have you felt her since you woke?”

“No.” She reached inside herself and felt…nothing. Even when she hadn’t been allowed to shift, she’d felt her bear. She’d always had that part of herself.

“Don’t panic,” Jensen ordered. “Once I discover if it was the poison or what was injected afterward or the combination of both, I’ll be able to help you. Until then, rest. It’s the best thing for your body to heal.”

He moved on from her side and skimmed his hands over her hip and along her thigh. His touch was clinical, assessing.

“I didn’t note any other injuries when you were brought in. Tell me what you feel. Are you hurting anywhere else?”

She flexed her feet then her hands, rolled her shoulders and rocked her hips.

“No.”

“Sit up and turn your back to me,” Jensen ordered. “I want to check your spine and listen to your lungs.”

“I feel fine,” Jemma argued even as she did as he’d requested.

He ran his hands over her back, pressing here and there and making tutting noises. Then he spread out his hands over her ribs then palpated down to her hips and tailbone before trailing back up to her neck. He cupped his hands around the base of her skull and guided her through a series of movements.

“Do you feel anything pull or any sharp pains?”

“No, Jensen. I’m fine. I swear. Other than my side and the fact I can’t feel my bear, at the moment, I’m okay. So, how soon can I get out of here?”

“You’ll stay here until the inflammation goes down, with or without your animal’s help.”

“Jensen—”

“I could agree to let you go back to the main house,” he offered. “There are plenty of people there to keep an eye on you.”

“I don’t need anyone to keep an eye on me.”

“Brock thinks you’re going to run.”

She made a non-committal sound.

“Well?” Jensen pressed.

“Why does he care?” she countered with her own question. “Why the sudden change of heart? And don’t say the whole mate thing again. We both know it means nothing.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. The whole mate thing means everything. Everything.” Jensen growled the final word.

“Not when your mate doesn’t want you.”

“I want you.”

Her head jerked toward the door at Brock’s voice, and as his gaze fell to take her in, her cheeks flushed with heat. She refused to hide, though. He’d seen her naked before when they’d shifted. She’d seen him naked. Seen all of him, though he usually tried to turn from her as if he could hide the masculine part of himself from her gaze.

“Today, maybe,” she agreed. “But what about tomorrow? What about the next time I say or do something to piss you off? Because we all know the likelihood of that is exponentially high.”

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Jensen offered and, after grabbing the vials of blood, moved past Brock and stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind him, leaving her and Brock in a cabin where she was naked and, according to the bulge in his jeans, he was hard.

She sighed. She was so tired. Tired of all of it.

“Did you bring me clothes?”

He tossed a bag onto the bed beside her. “Soft, comfy clothes. Nothing that’ll put pressure on your side.”

“Thank you.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “You can go, Brock. You don’t have to stay here with me.”

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