Chapter 89

Mira

Cinda found me in the morning, curled up on a cot in a quiet back room at the hospital.

“Wash your face, hon,” she directed me as I got up.

She was kind enough not to mention that my face needed washing because it was clear I had been crying most of the night. The small sink in the corner gushed cold water at an alarming speed, but I welcomed the sharp relief as I splashed my swollen face.

“Wanna talk about it?” My friend asked.

I groaned. “Not really.”

Cinda shrugged, leaning against the wall by the door. One of the clearest signs of a good friend is when they know not to pry, and can simply be present for you when you need support. She knew that when I was ready I would open up to her, and I loved her for it.

“Does anyone else know where I spent the night?”

“Not yet,” she replied. “If you get into your scrubs and look busy, they’ll just assume it was another early morning for you. We know you’re a workaholic.”

I winced. It wasn’t a bad reputation, but didn’t exactly endear me to others. I had spent so much of my life on my own, an grieving orphan who became a dedicated student and physician. I was always trying to distract myself from the harsh reality of my life, not wanting to dwell on it or feel bad for myself.

A valiant defense mechanism, but it led to a lonely life. It wasn’t until Dominic that I started to open up more to others. The thought of my last interaction with him turned my stomach.

“Anything I can help you with, since I’m here?” I asked Cinda. “I don’t have any patients scheduled.”

She scrunched up her face as she thought. “We’re always backed up on paperwork,” she told me. “Take your time, get some coffee, and come find me if you need tasks.”

She had her hand on the door handle, but turned back to face me.

“Or,” she said pointedly, “if you want to tell me why you’ve chosen to sleep in a sad little cot instead of your marriage bed. No rush.”

After she was gone, I sank back onto the bed. I was more exhausted than when I had gone to sleep, but rallied myself to put my emotions aside and focus on work.

I filed paperwork into our new online system. I reorganized a closet, surprising a custodian who came in for trash bags. I went to the lab to check our inventory of medicines, alcohol, saline, and other necessary additives for testing and tincturing.

After all that, it was only two in the afternoon.

I looked over the hospital calendar, twice, seeing if I could add anything to it. It was never a bad time to hold a blood drive, especially with the uncertainty of Rogue attacks supplying us with more wounded soldiers.

Sitting down at my computer, I set to work planning the event and drafting publicity statements to bring in a crowd. It seemed a good idea to extend the invitation to other packs in the area, continuing to foster alliances for the betterment of the regional community.

Lucian found me there an hour late, entertaining myself with cartoon images of blood and equipment that would make a poster eye-catching and inviting.

“Are you a cartoon serial killer now?” Lucian put his hands on the back of my chair so he could lean over me to look at the screen. “ ‘Giving blood isn’t scary— it can B Positive!’ Seriously, Mira?”

My cheeks turned crimson. “I thought it was…cute.”

“It is, it is,” he chuckled, “I just didn’t know you were into terrible puns. I may not be able to take you as seriously anymore, Doctor.”

I rocked my chair jerkily to throw him off, indulging in the playful interaction. Lucian could be serious and mature, but still felt like the annoying little brother I never had.

“I contain multitudes,” I said, going back to my work.

“That’s for certain.”

He pulled over a chair to sit next to me and then went quiet, so I looked over at him. In a moment's time, he went from that brother figure back to a grown man, his eyes holding a secret offer that was only for me.

It was the face of someone who wants to kiss you if given the chance. Not aggressive, but steady and patient, as if he would wait a lifetime. I noticed his nostrils flare slightly, as if he was trying to hide it.

Lucian was taking in my scent, and an almost imperceptible flutter of his eyelids told me he was enjoying it.

“Sorry,” he said looking down, bashful. “I’m staring. I just haven’t seen you since the wedding.”

Did I smell different now that I was no longer a virgin? I fought the urge to squirm in my seat.

“It was a beautiful night,” he continued, his tone even. “Full of surprises as well.”

“You can say that again,” I chimed in without thinking.

He raised an eyebrow. “I take it you’re less than enthused to have Celeste back in the Pack.”

I looked at him, trying to seem unfazed. He wasn't buying it.

“It’s fine, it’s good,” I said too quickly, “I mean, we’re all glad she’s not dead, right? Anytime a lost kinsman returns there is cause for celebration.”

“Even if that ‘kinsman’ used to be your husband’s mate?” I exhaled sharply at my nose, and he softened his attack. “No one expects you to be all sunshine and rainbows, Mira. Especially not me.”

“I know,” I said, “I just hate to feel jealous of someone who went through such a horrible experience.”

“Well,” he said, leaning in, “I won’t tell anyone. If you need to vent, I will listen.”

I sized him up, never sure whether he was in a bank vault or an open book.

“She’s great, really,” I said, telling the truth, “obviously smart and beautiful, and people seem to really care about her. Dominic included.”

“But?”

“But—“ I stopped myself from shouting, “but she wants her old life back, obviously. And that old life includes Dominic. I can’t help but feel like I’m in the way of some romantic reunion.”

“Mira,” Lucian said, putting hand on my arm so I could turn to him. “Celeste is not here to ruin your marriage. It has been years since she left, she cannot have expected Dominic, the Alpha, to have waited for her.”

“Of course that’s the logical explanation,” I said, a whine in my voice, “but we’re talking about being in love. There’s nothing logical about that.”

He was quiet as he thought carefully what to say next.

“They were in love, yes,” he said finally, “there is no question. Celeste is a stellar woman and she and Dominic knew each other for a long time.”

I sank back into my chair.

“However,” he went on, “Dominic married you because he wanted to, not just because he needed a Luna. He loves you.”

“More than he loves her?”

My voice was small and desperate, and he squeezed my shoulder to comfort me.

“I think so,” he said softly. “You are Fated Mates, right? That is an unshakable bond, something in your blood that binds you together. Not even Celeste stands a chance.”

I smiled, knowing that it might not be true but appreciating his effort to cheer me up. I looked back at my silly poster on the screen, and my face froze.

“Blood.”

“What?”

I didn’t realize I had said it out loud, the gears turning in my head drowning out the world around me.

“It must be something in the blood.”

Lucian’s face was wide open in confusion, waiting for explanation.

“The Rogues were testing something on those teenagers, in the lab,” I was working out the theory as I spoke, “and they had IVs as well as other wires between them. They were Fated Mates.”

“Okay…”

“So they must share a blood type, another component connecting them to one another.”

“What does that mean?” Lucian asked, sensing my excitement.

My face fell. “I don’t actually know.”

“Well, still a good piece of information,” he said. “Maybe you can look into other Fated Mates to see if the blood type thing is real.”

I nodded, a new cloud covering my brow.

The only other Fated Mates I knew were Dominic and me.

If we’d both been in those labs, and we shared a blood type, it pointed towards something far more troubling than I had imagined.

It meant we were in there together.