The Two Alphas of Rosewood Creek [MxM]

Chapter 31

Once the crowd was escorted out of the room, the council proceeded to grill every minuscule detail of my life out of Dr. Louis: where I'd come from, what I'd told her‒what she had told me‒and just how precisely that I had managed to fly so indiscernibly under the Rosewood radar. But she could answer nothing with any great degree of clarity. To be fair, at that point the doctor and I had only had one appointment together.

Kira's menacing glare would not leave me for one second. She looked defiantly angry, her eyes lasering straight through my skull to my beating brain as if she might try to stop it with the sheer burning vitriol in her expression. She would try to hurt me again, I just knew it. If she could find even half a moment's opportunity to get me alone, she'd set her fangs right through my jugular. Luckily, Nate and Theo hovered at my sides like private bodyguards, unwilling to let anything pop the bubble of security they formed around me. Though watching them incapacitate a literal horde of crazed townswolves played out quite frighteningly, thinking of it in retrospect was the only comfort I could get as my fate was decided for me.

The tapping of a low sturdy heel echoed from the outside landing steps of the building, the large oak doors still splayed open (partially broken that way, it seemed) from the brute force of Theo and Nate's entry. Out of the late afternoon, dusk emerged a curvaceous figure swaying gracefully towards me.

Perhaps it was the way the lights lining the outside steps hit her as she glided into the room, casting a warm angelic glow around a silhouette of dark flawless skin. Her melanated magic was captivating, and her body seemed to move in some unspoken song as her long black box braids swayed in syncopation to her hips. She bee-lined across the floor to me, and I could tell by the unquestioning permissiveness with which Nate and Theo let her approach me‒kneeling down on the floor to inspect my various injuries‒that this woman was to be trusted.

"Sorry I didn't come sooner," the woman spoke. "I didn't think we needed a medic on hand for town meetings anymore, but my mom started blaring an S.O.S. for me to get out here."

There was a charming affability in the soft but bouncy cadence of her words. She nodded to Dr. Louis thoughtlessly as she sat a bright white medical kit on the ground and slid a folding chair next to me.

Wait! She's Dr. Louis' daughter!?

She struggled slightly in sitting down, a small baby bump on her hourglass figure revealing itself. She pushed a little at her lower back. "Aghh, I can't stay down there with ya. Not even four months in and I can barely walk across town anymore." She rubbed her taut belly and leaned back for a moment, taking a deep breath through her nose, before leaning forward to more directly introduce herself.

"Sorry about that... You're Remy, right? I'm Clarie, APRH and deputy healer for Silver Amoux." My eyes twinkled in confusion, and she softly chuckled as she read the dismay in the scrunched lines of my face. "I'll be your healer for tonight. Now, let's get you fixed up."

"Uhh... Thank you," I replied shyly, eager for her mending hands. She cheerfully went to work, opening her kit and pulling out materials for a makeshift sterile field. She quietly hummed as she patted stingy anesthetic over my wounds. Nate even helped here and there, handing her materials and politely chatting her up. It was annoying to see Nate's charm work on anyone he wanted it to. This woman clearly needed no help, but Nate would use any excuse at any time merely to get closer to me.

Don't play dumb, Nate! We see you out here.