Page 32 of Rejected Broken Mate

My heart clenched at the thought.

"The helmets are to protect them from the air. The guys are very fit, making them more susceptible to smoke. It’s just like athletes, when they get sick, it’s harder on their bodies. The doctor will likely want to monitor his breathing for a couple of days and ensure he doesn't catch anything or damage his lungs."

My worry from before built up, and I chewed on my cheek.

A question then formed in my mind. “If the guys heal faster than a human, why do they have to be monitored? Don’t you all just heal?”

“They heal faster, but they aren’t gods,” Wendy offered. “While they may be powerful and live longer, they still can get hurt. They can still die. They still scar and when it comes to serious fires, they can get seriously hurt.”

I knew that the guys lived longer, and that they healed quicker, but I guess I still didn’t know everything. I felt out of my depth.

“You said live longer,” I knitted my fingers together, suddenly curious. “How much longer?” These were all things I should know, considering Michael was a shifter himself.

Wendy paled slightly. “Well…they age slower. They can live almost three hundred years, but it’s rare. When you find your mate, you kind of age together.”

I stiffened. “What happens when you don’t find a mate? Or your mate dies?”

Wendy didn’t answer, which was an answer itself.

Chapter 12 - Miles

"Miles, blow into the tube," Dr. Vicky gave me an annoyed face from her chair. She was sitting at eye level with me, holding the tube out.

"I did," I grumbled, grabbing the damn tube.

"And it was shit. If you really blew that, I need to be concerned about your lungs."

"Vicky, I've been coming here for three days and feel fine."

She glared, and I sighed, taking the tube up to my mouth and blowing into it. The small bobber inside blew up, hitting the top, and I started to cough.

Vicky scowled. "Don't try and bullshit me, Miles. You can't even blow into the tube without coughing. You clearly affected your lungs.

I tossed the tube aside. "I'm fine. If you write that down on my paperwork, Ayden is gonna chew my ass out even more than he already did."

"For good reason," she said, writing some things down on the paper. “When are you going to learn you aren’t impenetrable? You guys may be strong, but you’re not god. You know that any damage done internally and externally heals, but it leaves scars.” She shook her head."I'm having you use an inhaler for the next week, and you'll take it easy at work. You keep that sling on for a couple days until it stops pinching.

Ayden was going to love this.

After checking my blood pressure, Vicky released me. I headed to work, not looking forward to informing Ayden I had totake it easy. I knew there would be another lecture as if the hour-long one after being released the other day wasn't enough.

While I understood his point, I still wouldn't change what I did. Just like with the old lady I saved, I knew I had done the right thing.

I parked and headed inside. I went up the stairs, finding the space was quiet. I walked towards Ayden's office, finding it empty. As I turned, I could hear typing coming from Laura's room.

I walked down the hallway and poked my head into her room. She was sitting at her desk, her eyes glued to the computer as she typed. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and she was wearing glasses sitting at the edge of her nose.

I knocked, and her eyes snapped up. She quickly leaned back and gave me a soft smile. "Hey, how was your doctors appointment?"

"It was good. I have to take it easy for a couple of days." I moved my arm, the sling swinging it.

She made a face, and I could see concern cross her face. She placed her hands together in her lap and licked her lips. "You're okay, though? How are your lungs?"

I nodded, trying to make light of everything. "Of course. It would take a lot more to really hurt me."

She shook her head, not laughing. "You could have been seriously hurt, Miles. Please don't joke about it."

I frowned, watching as tears built in her eyes. I panicked, suddenly regretting the joke.

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