Hadrian’s retreating footsteps can be heard as he leaves me to face off with the woman with electric fire in her eyes.
“Where were we?” I ask. “Oh, that’s right. You were to get a tablet and start taking notes, female. Time is of the essence.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
I drag my gaze over her small form. Nice, bouncy breasts. Slightly flared hips. Slender legs. Everything about her is so lovely. Besides her vicious tongue, she’s seemingly harmless.
“Hmm,” I say, not convinced. “I’d rather you not. I have work to do. Work I’ll need your assistance with.”
She marches up to me and pokes me right in the gut. “We’re co-workers. I’m not your nurse or your assistant or your fucking pee-on. Your equal and you’re lucky I’m giving you that. You want things done then you can run it through me first. I’ll be damned if you come in here and take over like the arrogant douchebag you are!” She pokes me again. “And you will never spank me. Got it, Doc? Never.”
“Hmm.” I walk past her and start rifling through a drawer to see what sort of supplies are in this room.
“Hmm? Is that what you say when you’re done talking?” She huffs. “I’m not done, asshole.”
“I don’t have time to argue with you, woman. I need a workspace. I need supplies. I need a system. I need rekking lists.”
The patient on the table starts coughing. I watch Zoe transform from violent storm to delicate breeze as she rushes over to the table, fussing over the patient with care. Her smile is genuine as she tells the woman it’s going to be okay. That the doctor has come to save her.
She’s talking about me.
Zoe may hate me with every fiber of her being, but she can’t hide hope. I hear it in those few words. Latch onto them. Use them to fuel me forward and give me strength.
I walk over to Zoe and gently place my gloved palm on her back as I greet the patient.
“I’m Avrell,” I tell her. “We’re going to heal you. Together.”
Zoe stiffens under my touch, but she doesn’t move away. I like that my fingertips seem to buzz with a current of power that pulses from this small woman, linking her to me. It’s unusual and fascinating. It makes me want to ponder this connection for hours, trying to understand every facet of it.
If only there were more time.
“Hang in there, Eleanor,” Zoe says, her voice gentle and soothing.
“Try and rest,” I say to Eleanor and then guide Zoe away from the table.
She steps away from me, crossing her arms over her chest. Her cheeks are slightly pink and she won’t look at me.
Did she like my touch?
I think I might make a list so I can understand her like I’m trying to understand the disease and how to cure it. I’m ticking off all the things that make up Zoe in my nog. All the things I know she is.
Violent.
Strong in spirit.
Breathtaking to look at.
Intelligent.
Unruly.
Supple lips.
Angry.
Flashes of vulnerability beneath her hard exterior.
Easy to rile up.
Mine.
“Are you even listening to me?” she demands, her gray eyes blazing with fury.
I’ve been watching her full lips move and move, but I’m stuck on one thing about her that I suddenly can’t begin to understand.
Mine.
How?
Why?
Impossible.
But she is. I suddenly feel it clenching around my heart. Tight. So tight. Unrelenting. Suffocating. Maddening.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
“I’m sorry,” I utter, unable to tear my gaze from her lips. “I wasn’t listening to a single word you were saying.”
“Oh my God. Typical man. Unbelievable.” She lets out a derisive snort. “I think you may be worse than Theron.”
Theron.
A manchild, as Molly always says.
“Hmmm,” I grumble, flinging open a cabinet to check the supplies there too.
“I said,” she grits out, annoyed at my dismissal. “Go find Hadrian and he’ll show you to your room. You can make your dumb lists to your heart’s content and then we can reconvene later.”
“I’ll rest later,” I tell her absently. “Assessing the state of this Medical Bay and getting started is my priority.”
She pops up between me and the cabinet, thrusting a tablet into my chest. There’s not much room between us, and when she attempts to push me back, my body remains still.
The current.
It pulsates once more between us.
Need. Need. Need.
Mine.
I drag my gaze from her delicate hand, along her thin arm, along the column of her throat, and back to her lips. She licks them, making my cock jolt like it’s been struck by a magnastrike.
“Zoe,” I hiss, glaring right into her gray eyes now.
Her lovely eyebrows are knitted together, confusion flickering in her eyes. “What kind of weird voodoo magic have you got going on right now? You’re weirding me the fuck out, man.”
Ahh, so my mate feels it too.
And yet she doesn’t pull her hand away from me.
Interesting.
I grip her fragile wrist in my gloved hand and pull it away from me. I pluck the tablet from her hand but don’t let go of her wrist. She gasps when I step forward, crowding her.
“What is this voodoo magic you speak of?” I murmur, bringing her wrist to my face so I can watch the vein beneath the skin pulsate erratically. “I don’t know these words.”
“It means you touching me fucks with my head. I hate you, dude bro. You’re an arrogant asshole.”
And yet…
I flash her a knowing grin as I push a button on the tablet. “We’ll put this on the list as well.”
Stepping away from her, I continue my perusal of the space, mentally taking notes until the tablet powers up.
“What is this?” she demands.
Us. Us. Us.
Mine.
“This is understanding why your pulse quickens and your lips part when you see me.” I look over my shoulder and smirk. “And how your eyes track my every move. It’s interesting.” And how my cock hasn’t gone completely soft since I’ve stepped into the Medical Bay with her.
“It is not interesting,” she growls, but she’s lost some of her fire.
“Hmm.”
“I swear to fuck, if you say that one more time…”
“Enough of the mindless chatter, stormy one,” I bark out. “We’ll analyze this later. It’s time to work.”
If looks could kill, I’d be happily skipping to The Eternals right now.
I suppose there are worse ways to go.
1
Zoe
Interesting, my ass.
There’s nothing interesting about him. Infuriating, maybe, but not interesting. Dr. Avrell Dracarion.
He thinks he’s the most brilliant man on Mortuus, but he couldn’t be more wrong. Full of himself is what he is. Arrogant to the core.
While he’s been sitting on his ass impregnating people without their consent—the bastard—I’ve been in the trenches tending the sick. Pronouncing the dead. It’s been me who’s done all the hard work. There hasn’t been a choice. There is no one else with remotely any nursing skills.