Page 49 of Taken By the Alpha Priest

Peaches smirks, leaning back on her hands. “I gotta admit, Tilda, I didnothave ‘Reyes breaks his priestly vows’ on my bingo card.”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” I say, dragging a hand through my damp hair. “But I’d rather be prepared. Can you help me or not?”

Suyin studies me for a moment before nodding. “Of course. Meet me at the clinic later—I’ll get you sorted.”

“Thanks,” I mumble.

Peaches gives me a sly grin as Suyin gathers her things to get into the pool, leaving me and Peaches alone. “You know,” Peaches says, her tone almost too casual, “I think Reyes might surprise you. He doesn’t exactly strike me as the type to half-ass anything.”

I groan and shove her playfully, sending a small splash of water her way. “You’re a menace.”

“And you’re smitten,” she teases, dodging the spray.

I laugh despite myself, the sound echoing off the cavern walls. It feels good, like a tiny break in the storm cloud of my thoughts. But even as we gather our things and head back toward the den, the truth gnaws at me, impossible to ignore.

I don’t know what’s going to happen between me and Reyes.

But whatever it is, it feels inevitable.

16

TILDA

Igive myself another day in the garden before finally heading to the clinic. Peaches insists on tagging along, practically bouncing at the chance to be nosy. Suyin meets us at the wooden door, ushering us inside with her usual no-nonsense efficiency.

The clinic surprises me. It’s a step up from what I expected—a compact but sophisticated space, complete with an early Convergence medical dock courtesy of the Heavenly Host: the kind of tech that could diagnose you in minutes, faster than any doctor ever could. It hums softly, the lights on its console blinking like it’s ready to get to work. It looks out–of-place in the otherwise folksy clinic, with its ancient cabinets and stone walls.

“Thanks for seeing me, doc,” I say, settling into the diagnostic chair. The cool metal frame hums faintly beneath me, the whole thing a little too high-tech for someone used to patching herself up with bandages and duct tape.

Suyin moves efficiently, strapping a blood pressure cuff around one arm, clipping a pulse oximeter onto my finger, and unceremoniously shoving a thermometer under my tongue. “This might sting,” she warns, already holding a needle in her hand.

“Wait, what—” The prick of the needle cuts me off, a quick jab in the crook of my arm.

I glance down as she collects a small vial of blood, watching the dark liquid fill the container. Honestly, after being shot a few times, needles barely register on my pain scale.

“That’s cute,” I mumble around the thermometer.

Suyin raises an eyebrow but doesn’t respond, her attention fixed on the medical dock as it comes to life. The machine hums softly, lights flickering across its screen, casting a faint glow in the dim clinic. It feels clinical, sterile—nothing like the rest of the den, where everything’s patched together with duct tape and ingenuity.

“You should know I’m not technically a doctor,” Suyin says, her voice calm but tinged with a hint of self-deprecation. She sets the blood sample aside and turns her focus back to the machine. “I only made it partway through vet school before…well, before.”

I raise an eyebrow, but the thermometer muffles my attempt at sarcasm. Suyin either doesn’t notice or pretends not to.

The dock hums louder, running its scans. “Don’t worry,” she adds, glancing briefly in my direction. “I’ve kept everyone alive so far.”

“That’s…reassuring,” I say, Suyin finally taking the thermometer.

Peaches leans against the wall, grinning like this is all a casual afternoon activity. “She’s great,” Peaches chirps, offering a thumbs-up. “Real genius. You’re in good hands.”

“Not sure if that’s comforting or ominous,” I mutter, shifting in the chair.

Suyin doesn’t respond, already engrossed in the dock’s readout. The machine hums louder, its soft whirring filling the silence.

I glance around the clinic, trying not to feel like a specimen under a microscope. The cabinets lining the walls are neatly organized, their sterile white surfaces broken only by the occasional label. A broom leans in one corner, and a faded medical poster hangs lopsided on the far wall, its edges curling. It’s the kind of place that feels functional, not welcoming—like the world before, preserved in snapshots and fragments.

Suyin leans closer to the dock, narrowing her eyes at the screen. “Stay still,” she says absently.

“Sure, wouldn’t want to throw off the science,” I mumble.

---