Page 38 of The Healer

In the end, she succumbed to sleep with the phantom sensation of Rhys’s warm hands caressing her hair and holding her hand.

Rhys sprawled on his bed, unable to silence his bear and the fire scorching his veins. The excitement thrumming his nerve endings were all thanks to one woman. Lona. He grinned. She hadn’t tarred him with Dane’s brush, and for that, he was grateful. To stop Dane, Rhys would have had to challenge him for leadership. One of them might have died, and if not, then their friendship would forever be altered.

Rhys had been tempted. The fear darkening the brown of her hazel eyes had wrenched his heart, urging him to toss caution to the wind. He rubbed his chest, hoping to calm his bear. Somewhere in the house was Ilona, and he longed to find her room, to sneak in, and to watch her sleep. Perhaps his bear would find peace in knowing she was well.

Grunting, he rolled onto his side. She was only one woman, but more than that, she wasn’t Callie. Hope flared like an unfolding blossom bathed in sunlight. He would pursue whatever wove between them, and even if—he growled—he never saw her again, he had moved on from his silly suckblood infatuation.

An argument broke out in the hall, but he tried to ignore it, despite his advanced hearing.

“You fucking bled on me without asking me first or warning me. Humans can’t mix blood types, idiot. Not to mention the diseases transmitted via blood. But if you’d bothered to ask…” Lona’s voice was husky.

Her passionate fury poured molten desire through Rhys, raising the hairs on his arms and snagging the rhythm of his heart. What was she doing awake at this late hour?

“It healed you, though,” Dane mumbled.

She had the balls to argue with the alpha. Rhys admired that.

Palm hitting flesh followed. He grinned, not the slightest bit sorry for Dane.

“Feel better?” Silence met Dane’s question.

“A little.”

He chuckled. “Come here, Doc.”

“I don’t want a hug.” She squealed then grumbled, “Bloody bear.”

“Here I was hoping you were developing a crush on me.”

“Hardly. I would like nothing more than to rip your balls out through your throat. As a doctor, despite knowing it’s physically impossible, the thought of trying fills me with wicked joy.”

Rhys winced at the mental image but laughed anyway. Feisty, Dane had called her. Rhys couldn’t agree more.

Dane growled, “What the hell? I thought I was forgiven?”

“You are, but that doesn’t mean you can get all lovey-dovey with me. The number of women clinging to your impressive biceps leaves me cold, Mayor Ass. Besides, I’m temporary, remember.”

“Fine, but I’ll wear you down.”

A pause followed. “Why? To what end?” Curiosity filled Lona’s voice. “Y’know, never mind. I’m not interested for…reasons.”

“I’ll ask your gran—”

“Night, Dane.” A door banged shut.

Dane whispered to his bear, unaware Rhys listened in.

So, his friend liked the doctor? Rhys smothered a chuckle lest Dane heard him and intruded. Things had become interesting. Despite Dane warning Rhys away from the woman, he had no intention of stepping aside for his dear old friend to sweep her out from under him.

He growled and squeezed his eyes shut, recalling her pinned beneath him, moaning at each bite of her apple pie, and climbing over him like he was nothing but a hay barrel. Fuck. He threw himself onto his back and splayed his arms out wide.

The way his blood pulsed through his body, ignoring this attraction wasn’t possible. And all was fair in love and war, right?

Chapter Fourteen

VILLAGE DOCTOR

Poundingonherdoordragged Ilona from sleep. Growling at the intrusion, she flopped over, feeling like she had been drawn and quartered through the snow backward. She yanked the pillow over her head, praying the person would go away.

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