The Next Alpha

Part 8

*The pack house *

~Taylor's POV~

I woke up by strong warm arms snaking around my waist. I felt those sparks and the crave of his touch and I instantly knew it was Kyle. I didn't object to him moving me. This darkness was peaceful, and the pain wasn't so bad. So I let it slide. For now. Then I was placed onto his lap. I rested my head in the crook of his neck. I snuggled closer. He chuckled.

"Taylor. Wake up, the doctor is here to check on you." I just wiggled in his arms. I hated doctors. Especially right now. In my state. They were bound to tell me something I didn't want to hear.

"I don't wanna." I felt him let out a long sigh. He lifted my head. I opened my eyes. I realized there were 4 other people here. I shot up. I remembered what I looked like and the way I had just acted. I definitely don't want to meet people after all of that. Let alone the fact I was letting Kyle see me like this. I shrieked a small girly shriek and threw the blankets over my head. I cuddled further into the couch. He threw the blankets off and stood me up. See, when I first wake up, it's like trying to get a drunk man to walk into a straight line. I just wobbled over as the pain rippled through me and I fell right back down on to the couch. Kyle realized I couldn't hold myself up, so he grabbed my hand.

The sparks ignite. How is he so unaffected by this? Maybe he thought I was crazy. I blushed and looked down. Once I was steady Kyle motioned the doctor over. He walked up to me with an outstretched hand. I shook it. Just to be nice. I hate doctors, remember?

"Taylor, I'm Jason. I'm just going to switch out your bandages and take out the stiches. You seem to be healing miraculously. Just hang tight, let Kyle get your shirt off here." I shook my head 'No'. I'm really insecure. I have never let a boy take my clothes off. Heck, I haven't even made-out with a boy yet, kiss yes. Make out, no. No, nuh uh. Kyle gave me a look as if saying 'Taylor come one. The doctor needs to check your wounds.' I looked down, I nodded. I knew I couldn't take my shirt off by myself. It hurt to even breathe. Kyle let go of my hand. His hand hovered of the hem of my shirt for a second. He looked up at me. His eyes never left mine as he slowly pulled off my shirt. As I was staring back into his eyes, he looked at me as if I was a package labeled 'fragile' and he was afraid I'd break, but also with love and affection. Then something weird happened. His eyes turned yellow.

I jumped. His eyes were a yellow. A solid yellow? That can't be normal. What's going on here? What wasn't he telling me? What is wrong with me? Am I going insane? I should have minded my own business. My shirt was off, and Kyle took off into the hall. He refused to make eye contact with me for quite a while after what I had seen. He stayed in the shadows. He never came any closer than ten feet in my range, he wouldn't let anyone else either.

I was sitting back on the leather couch. The doctor whose name I learned is Jason, was undoing the gauze around my waist. I appreciated that it was on my waist and not my hips where my jeans hang. He furrowed his eyebrows together. He looked up at me then back down at the wounds. After a few moments of gliding his hand over the wound, he turned to the middle-aged man and women that had been watched the entire process. I leaned in closer so I could hear what they were saying.

"Her wounds are gone." Jason told them as if it was strange for someone to heal that quicky.

"What? How can that be?" Asked the man. The man had shaggy blonde hair and eyes as blue as the ocean. He was tall, muscular, clearly, he had authority by his tone in voice.

"I'm not quite sure sir. She shouldn't even have survived the attack, especially with that much blood loss. Even, if she did survive the attack, she should have a severe concussion, her wounds would still be there, and she would have temporary memory loss." Jason said in a matter of fact.