Page 5 of Wolf Chosen

“Mitch Stokes.” The sheriff introduces himself with a nod before gesturing to his companion. “This is my deputy, Zane Matthews. How are you feeling, Miss...?”

“Taylor,” I supply, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being the apparent center of such attention. “Taylor Lewis. And I'm... well, I'm mortified that the whole town knows about my fainting spell.”

I push upright and straighten my shoulders in a vain attempt to regain some semblance of dignity. “I'm feeling stronger now, actually. Strong enough to get going, I think.”

I can't stay here, can't allow myself to get swept up in whatever strangeness this town has to offer.

Liam's gaze snaps to mine. There's a weight to his stare, a gravitational pull that roots me to the spot, and I can't shake the feeling that he doesn't want me to go.

“You've had a close call,” he murmurs, his tone low and edged with a strange sort of intensity. “I don't recommend you drive anywhere, not after what happened. In fact, I think it would be dangerous for you and others if you were to get back on the road, especially if you were to lose consciousness again.”

He pauses, holding my gaze as if willing me to understand the gravity of his words. “Give it a few days, at least. To regain your strength.”

I deflate, the fight draining from me as quickly as it arose. A few days? The request seems so simple, so innocuous, and yet it carries the weight of the world on its shoulders.

“You're asking a lot,” I murmur, unable to keep the tremor from my voice as the cold truth slips past my lips. “I have aplastic anemia. I…don't know how much time I have left.”

The admission leaves a hollow ache in its wake, and as I meet Liam's gaze once more I can't help but wonder why the thought of never seeing him again causes my heart to lurch.

He'll forget me by tomorrow, I'm sure. Just another patient, another nameless face blurred in the recesses of his memory. However, his expressive eyes have seared themselves onto my consciousness in a way I can't begin to make sense of.

Liam studies me for a long moment, weighing something in his mind. Then finally, “I'm a hematologist at Northwestern Memorial Hospital in Chicago. There was something in your bloodwork that makes me think I can help you. If you’ll let me, of course.”

The words hang there, heavy with promise and fragile, tremulous hope. I want so badly to believe them, to cling to the life raft he's extended with both hands.

But I know better.

Forcing a tight smile, I shake my head. “A lot of doctors have tried to help me. I appreciate you thinking you can but…” The telltale prick of tears stings my eyes. “I'm one of those cases no one can help.”

The first traitorous droplet escapes and I hate myself for this moment of weakness, for allowing my walls to crumble.

Then, faster than I can process, Liam is there, gathering me into his arms and settling me onto his lap with a tenderness that leaves me stunned. I stiffen, every self-preservation instinct screaming at me to pull away, to put distance between us.

Because this is very much not how a doctor treats a patient.

Chapter Four

Taylor

His hands skim over my back, his touch igniting a trail of liquid fire alongside that same strange sense of calm and rightness that swept through me earlier. Despite every rational thought railing against it, I sag into him, allowing the tension to bleed from my body as I'm enveloped in his warmth, in his strength.

What the hell is going on here? The thought surfaces through the haze of confusion and inexplicable peace, sending a frisson of unease trickling down my spine. This isn't normal, isn't right. Doctors don't just scoop up patients and hold them like... like...

Like a lover might.

The realization hits me, jarring me back to reality with its stark implications. I should be worried about his behavior, about the inappropriate intimacy he's showing a practical stranger, but that deeper part of me remains steadfastly calm, almost... reassured by his presence.

It's baffling. Terrifying. Exhilarating.

“I've already contacted my sister, Cindi,” Mitch's gruff voice cuts through the tension, jarring me back to the present moment. “She has a room for you at the local hotel–The Wolf's Bite. It's a nice place; you'll be comfortable there.”

His gaze flicks to Liam, holding his stare for a weighted beat. “Safe, too.”

Safe? Unease trickles down my spine as the word registers. I shift in Liam's embrace until I can meet the sheriff's assessing stare.

“Should I be worried?” The question slips out before I can rein it in, colored by a wariness I can't quite put my finger on. “About safety, I mean?”

Mitch's expression is carefully neutral, but there's a flicker of something in his eyes. “We've had some wild wolves coming into town lately. It's just a precaution.”

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