The Pack Doctor's Mate

Chapter 3

I don't have to ask the nurses which room he's in. The scent of fresh laundry mixed with a tint of rogue lingers in the air like my own personal trail, leading me straight to him. It's a strange combination indeed - the soothing effect of clean cotton marred by the putrid loneliness of a rouge lifestyle.  Something in me clenches, but I try to ignore the contrasting smells as I make my way down the hall.

When I find myself outside of his room, I hesitate with my hand resting on the doorknob. It takes awhile for me to stop the many thoughts racing through my mind like fast cars, and I'm thankful that my wolf gives me some privacy as I process.

You can do this. It's just another patient. He's just another patient that happens to be your mate and the first rogue you've ever encountered and potentially extremely dangerous and a murderous psychopath but it's fine.

Okay, so you can say I'm bad at pep talks.

Really, really bad.

Which is why when my pager beeps 15 minutes later, I'm still standing there. Looking down at the small device, I see that it's Val. I'm surprised to hear from her until I read her page.

Room 215. Rogue patient. Have you checked on him yet?

Another page comes in right after that one.

Alpha's waiting on your diagnosis. Come to the front desk when ready.

I sigh, knowing my time for procrastinating is up. Before I go in, I catch a glimpse of myself in the glass window on the door. A fair skinned woman with chocolate brown, frizzy curly hair and brown, tired eyes stares back. I may not be overjoyed to come face to face with my mate, but I am glad he doesn't have to see me like this.

I look like a train wreck. And I feel like one too.

Gathering up every ounce of courage I have, I push down on the handle and walk in. His intoxicating scent hits me like a brick wall and I stagger back a step. I have to blink a few times to rid myself of the fuzzy feeling in my brain, then push out the sound of my excited wolf's yaps.

Sorry, I'll give you some space. I'm just really excited.

I smile at her apology, grateful I won't have a witness.

I swallow slowly, then cautiously step towards the unconscious male. After only a foot, the heart rate monitor the nurses must have hooked up speeds up two bpm. I cock my head to the side, observing the monitor as I realize his body must be responding to having his mate near. I keep walking slowly as the monitor continues to increase, so I don't freak myself out even more from the obnoxious sound alone.

I stand at the foot of the bed, observing the limp body in front of me. Dark brown earth covers every visible surface of his body, making it almost impossible to see anything of the man underneath. But under it all, I can tell he's attractive. His short blonde curls are wild and greasy. Some stick out in weird directions and others are matted down to his head with dried mud.

But worse than all of the grime, is the blood. It seems to be everywhere the dirt is. On his arms, his ripped shirt, and his neck. Only his face seems to be free of it, but the dirt covers the majority of it. If I wasn't a practiced healer, I would scream and run straight out of the room. He looks like the brutally murdered victim in some Hollywood horror film. Only the slight rise of his chest and the oh-so-annoying heart monitor let me know he still lives.

Snapping out of my creepy observation, I begin to actually do my job, which is filling out his charts. I avoid looking at the big silver bands on his wrist, and move as far away from them as I can. I know if I look, I'll start to feel really terrible and want to do something about it.  But I remind myself that this is for everyone's safety. Even his. I can't let the mate bond get in the way of my reason. He's a rogue, and he could be dangerous.

I'm not usually so pessimistic, I actually have a tendency to give my trust too willingly. But in this case, I want to stick to the side of caution. However, I still can't help but wonder why he was sent here and not straight to the dungeon, or even killed. At that thought, my wolf lets out a loud whine. I apologize, and continue my task.

When it comes time to give the physical examination, I become even more nervous. I don't really want to do it. I know it sounds silly, having my soul mate right here in front of me, but I know once I touch him, I'm done for. Hell, I haven't even gotten a good look at him and I'm already gone. Even if this mate bond didn't work for me, how much he means to my wolf already would keep me here with him. I can't deny her of her only chance at love.

I square my shoulders and lock my jaw before reaching out and lightly grabbing his forearm. Immediately, the feeling of pure bliss erupts in my veins, almost making me moan in pleasure at the skin to skin contact. The heart monitor near my ear goes insane, and I pull back like I've been burned, embarrassed at my reaction to him. My palm almost hurts it felt so good. I shake my head at my immaturity and lightly run my hand over his arm, checking for wounds.

I'm so focused on what I'm doing, that I don't notice him moving until I hear a sharp intake of breath. Pausing, I look to his face, where I see him grimacing in pain in his sleep. Alarmed, I immediately pull back, only to see his right hand fly upwards, trying to reach me. It hits the silver cuff and he hisses, his dirt caked face screwing up at the burn of the silver. Despite the pain, he keeps trying, each time becoming more persistent to reach me. His body starts thrashing to fight against the restraints, only hurting himself more. I stare at him in agony, hating to see this man in pain.

Before I'm aware of it, I've reached out again, grabbing his struggling right hand in my own and running the other through his wild hair. I stroke it soothingly like my mother used to do when I was a young girl. Much like it did for me back then, it comforts him, and his body slowly relaxes after a few moments. His heart monitor follows, settling back down to the quick beat of when I first touched him.

"Shhh...it's okay. I've got you." I reassure, not even sure he can hear me, but saying it anyways.

It feels amazing to touch this man. Something in me feels at home with him, and a piece I never knew was missing clicks into place.

After a minute or two of stroking, I slowly remove my hand from his hair, running it down the opposite arm to check for wounds, but keeping the other linked with his. All of them appear to be healed, as I figured. The blood is old and dried - an ugly brown color that mixes with the dirt.

He becomes restless again, his peaceful face morphing into a panicked one, and I resume my previous action of stroking his curls.

"I've got you. I'm right here. Don't be scared." I say softly.

My words are surprising to me, but they do their job at reassuring him, along with my touch. I stifle a laugh as I begin to feel a bit like Ariel when she saved Eric. Once he's calm, I continue my search. It's a bit harder when it comes to his legs, but I manage. I even lift his shirt just a bit, or what's left of it, and briefly check his hard abdominals and pectorals for major wounds. I don't linger there too much, but I already know I'll be seeing those dirty washboard abs in my dreams tonight.

I let out a terse sigh.

Next are his eyes, ears, nose, and throat. That's a little tricky as well, but I'm most concerned with making sure everything is clear and he doesn't have a concussion. Wolves heal quickly, but we're not immune to everything. I slowly slip my hand from his own, and check his eyes.

Oh.

My.

Goddess.

His eyes. They're the color of the ocean on a sunny day. They're the color of crystal clear swimming pools. They're the color every little girl dreams to see staring back at her from the orbs of her perfect prince. Since he's asleep, they remain slightly unfocused, but I can tell he's doing fine.

I put my flashlight back into my coat pocket and take a step back. I breathe in for what feels like the the first time in minutes. This man, though possibly a crazed killer and covered in dirt and blood, is beyond attractive. I won't even try to deny it, because why bother? Give credit where credit is due, I say.

Satisfied with my exam, I leave the room. But not before giving my unconscious mate another long, hard look.

Time to face Alpha.