Page 56 of What a Wolf's Heart Decides

Oh god. Had he noticed?

“Hold still,” he said.

She let out a shaky breath. His voice was strained, but his beast wasn’t behind it.

No, this was more like he was struggling to lift a heavy weight.

The heat grew and grew, distracting her from her bizarre physical reaction. This was far more intense than any healing she’d experienced in the past. Sweat trickled down her back. A harsh, labored sound reached her.

Bard’s lips were parted. Every breath was a pant. He tightened his grasp on her skull, his fingertips digging into her scalp.

All at once, fire bolted through her skull. The sensation was fast and intense and it took her breath away. Her vision blurred, then exploded in a rush of stars. Heat seared her face, the rush so fierce it ruffled her hair.

Just as soon as it arrived, the feeling fled. She gasped. Bard released her head, and her upper body fell back against the pillows.

He slumped, too, one hand going out for support. His palm landed on her thigh with a light slapping sound.

She froze.

He froze.

Their gazes locked.

Time stood still. Heat radiated from his hand, through the blanket and hospital gown, and into her skin.

Was he always that warm?

He snatched his hand back and stood. “No. Only when I used my Gift.”

Confusion swept her—then she realized she’d spoken out loud. Like a dork. Good grief, could she be any more awkward? On the other hand, her question had broken the strange spell that had descended over them.

“How do you feel?” Bard asked.

Just like that, he was back to the cool, professional version of himself, the strange connection between them severed.

She suppressed a shiver. Funny . . . she'd been so hot a minute ago. Now she was cold.

His gaze sharpened. “Haley?”

“Good.” The word jumped from her mouth without her brain being on board. As soon as she said it, however, she realized it was true. The ache in the back of her head was gone, along with the racing heartbeat. “Better than good, actually.”

He nodded. “Your clothes are here.” He went to the curtain and ducked around it. There was a crinkling sound, then he reappeared with a clear plastic bag in hand. He returned to the end of her bed and placed the bag near her feet. “Do you need help getting dressed?”

Her pulse jumped. Help? As in, help from him? “N-No. Wait. Am I leaving?”

“We,” he said. “We are leaving. My shift is over, and I’m exhausted. More importantly, we need to get you out of the hospital before the next shift goes on the clock and people start asking questions. My protection only extends so far.”

Right. Because he wasn’t the Alpha in this place. He was just another employee. An authority figure, sure, but still just one worker among many.

Once again, bewilderment crept over her. How did a dominant werewolf hide his true nature? Humans had their own pecking orders, but their social structure was entirely different from the rigid confines of werewolf life.

He gestured toward the bag. “Get changed. I’ll turn my back.”

Whoa. What? He wanted to stay in the room? “I said I don’t need any help.”

“I’m not going to help.”

“I’m fine on my own. You can go . . . do something.”

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