Page 182 of Drama Queen

“Mr President?” Dr Wilson called through the closed aperture. “You sent for me. May I come in?”

The deferential and submissive approach was exactly the right one, setting his lion at ease. Mark Watson was someone they knew and trusted. One day, he would tend to their mate and young, but until Leonard had claimed her, the man was getting nowhere near his mate.

“Come,” he ordered.

Rather than going to comfort Charlotte as his beast was demanding, Leonard moved closer to the door, putting himself firmly between the intruder and his mate.

“Oh my!” Dr Watson declared. “You are in a state, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?” Leonard snapped.

“Your mane is down to your shoulders, your pupils are so wide, I can’t even see a band of gold around the iris, and your fangs are starting to show.

Yes, he could feel them emerging as the strange male entered their domain. It might be the large conference room in The Seat, but his mate was behind him, and he hadn’t claimed her. Right then, it was his den.

Hesitantly, Leonard reached up to feel his hair, finding only thick, coarse fur at his touch, shaggy and long, it did indeed reach his shoulders. When was the last time he’d lost control of his shift like this?

Looking down again, Dr Watson took another step forward, but it was more than his beast could stand, a low growl rumbling through his chest.

“I thought that might happen,” Dr Watson said with a sigh. “So I came prepared.”

Prepared with what? The thought was quickly answered when the good doctor drew his hand out from behind his back, a large gun in its grip.

“This will hurt, but only for a few seconds,” he said, even as he squeezed the trigger.

Leonard’s lion erupted, his shift ripping through him, shredding his clothes, and revealing his lion in all its glory. Pain seared his shoulder as he prepared to leap at the doctor, followed quickly by a lassitude that swept through him until he staggered. Falling to a heap on the floor, he could only watch in a dazed stupor as the doctor looked past him to his mate.

“Are you alright, Ms Bailey?” Dr Watson asked her, a frown on his face. Despite his calm demeanour, his hand trembled, and the smell of urine accompanied an expanding dark patch at the front of his pants.

Unable to even lift his head, Leonard could only listen for her response.

“I’m fine,” she whispered, shock clear in her voice. “He would never hurt me, I’m his mate.”

Triumph seared through his veins at her acknowledgement. She felt it! She knew it! She also wasn’t denying him!

“Well, he says he is,” she qualified. “My owl is certainly agitated, but I’m sure it’s just the stress. That’s what this probably is too. That little girl was a cat. He has to be relatingto that on such a deep level. Of course his beast is wanting to expand the population again, but I don’t think I’m the right candidate. Anyway, that’s a whole other matter. You just got rushed by a full-grown lion. I don’t think I’d be conscious right now. Areyoualright?”

How could she stand there and talk calmly with the man who’d shot him? How could she care more about the doctor’s wellbeing than Leonard’s own. Nevermind the fact she didn’t believe he was her mate after all. There was no doubt in his mind, so why was there any in hers?

“Well, I have to admit, I think I aged a decade or so there,” the doctor said with a nervous chuckle. “But he hasn’t shifted back, which means I might need to give him a second dose. I’m just waiting to see if he’s safe enough for me to approach, or if I’ll have to dart him again.”

“I could give it to him if you want?” Charlotte replied. “He believes I’m his mate, so he won’t harm me.”

Dart? Dose? Was that why his head was so fuzzy? He wasn’t dying from blood loss, he was simply drugged? Incapacitated, while some strange male interacted with his mate! His mind was barely coherent enough to process anything, but the next sentence made him want to tear the man’s throat out.

“I’m sure that is the case, however, it would require you to approach me, or vice versa, for me to give you the syringe?—”

Leonard’s snarl interrupted them, loud and rumbling, it made conversation almost impossible.

“Hush, Leonard. He’s trying to help,” Charlotte chided.

His beast didn’t care what the man was doing, but the sound quietened some, because his mate had asked it of them.

“What about if you put it on the coffee table there, then walk back to the door. I could come and get it, and administer the dose?”

“Yes!” Dr Watson exclaimed, making his lion growl again. “Yes, that would work. Very clever. I’ve heard you’re bright. Alright then, let me draw it up, and then I’ll put it here for you.”

The doctor withdrew to a table just behind him, the movement making his lion restless, but satisfied the man was further away from his mate. Quickly and efficiently, Dr Watson prepared a syringe, drawing from not one, but three different bottles, gently inverting the resultant mixture a few times, before changing the tip of the needle to a more fine one.

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