Chapter 7

The next day, my body still felt broken, but I had to go to the hospital.

I tried to lock away all the memories from that night and convince myself it had all been a nightmare. But the mark on my neck—a faint yet unmistakable bite—was a cruel reminder that it had been very real.

I stood in front of the clinical rotation room, dressed neatly in my junior doctor’s uniform.

What if I saw him again? How could I even look him in the eye after everything that happened?

But fate didn’t give me a choice.

That day, there was a major surgery scheduled. All the interns were required to observe. I walked into the prep room stiffly, my eyes lowered, hoping to stay invisible. But the moment I lifted my gaze, that piercing stare struck through me.

He was standing in the center of the room, already half-dressed in a sterile gown. His gaze was sharp, locked on me. I quickly looked away, trying to avoid his eyes, but then his hand made a subtle gesture—signaling me to come closer.

Usually, a nurse would assist the doctor with his full surgical gown. But this time, Liam didn’t call a nurse. He stared directly at me, clearly expecting me to do it.

My throat went dry. I walked over slowly, feeling like all eyes in the room were on me. We were inches apart when I reached for the sterile gown and helped him put it on. My hands trembled as I pulled the fabric over his arms, our faces so close I could feel the heat radiating from him.

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding wildly. As I buttoned the front of his gown, he never took his eyes off my face.

When my hand accidentally brushed against his skin, I flinched slightly and quickly pulled away.

“Focus, Cole.”

I nodded quickly, too scared to look up. “Y-Yes, Doctor.”

Another nurse entered with the instruments. I immediately stepped back, blending in among the other interns.

But throughout the surgery, I could feel Liam’s gaze occasionally landing on me. He continued working with exceptional precision, yet every time his eyes flicked in my direction, my body tensed.

The surgical lights above the table illuminated the patient’s body, draped in sterile green cloths, leaving only the abdomen exposed.

I stood among the other interns, trying to pay attention. Today’s procedure was an exploratory laparotomy—a major abdominal surgery. Only the best surgeons could perform it with flawless technique, and standing before me was that very person: Dr. Liam Darkmane.

His hands were steady as he accepted the scalpel from the scrub nurse. One glance at me was enough to make me feel pinned in place.

“Scalpel.”

The blade transferred to his hand. Liam made a clean, straight incision down the midline of the patient’s abdomen. I watched in awe as layer after layer—skin, fat, muscle—was opened with surgical finesse.

“Retractor,” he said again.

I was standing close and instinctively stepped forward. This was normally the nurse’s role, but I knew he was giving me this chance on purpose. With trembling hands, I picked up the metal retractor and handed it to him. But instead of taking it, Liam glanced at me.

“You hold it.”

Nervously, I positioned the instrument at the edge of the incision and gently pulled as he directed. As the abdominal cavity opened, the distinctive scent of blood mixed with internal organs hit my nose. I held my breath, trying to look composed, though my stomach turned slightly.

Liam glanced at me again, then refocused. His hands moved deeper, carefully pushing aside tissue layers.

“There’s a perforation in the small intestine,” he said—more to the surgical team than to me.

I swallowed. An intestinal perforation meant there was a hole leaking contents into the abdominal cavity—a life-threatening condition in humans. For a werewolf? It could mean loss of strength, even death, if not treated immediately.

“Resection, twenty centimeters,” Liam instructed.

The nurse swiftly handed him sutures and tools. With practiced ease, he cut away the damaged portion of the intestine and reconnected the healthy ends. His movements were swift but precise, as if he’d done this a hundred times. I was mesmerized. Not a single stitch was loose. No excessive blood loss. Just perfect.

“Suction.”

The anesthetist guided the suction device to clear the area, keeping the field clean.

I was still holding the retractor, my hands starting to shake from maintaining the position. Liam noticed. For a moment, our eyes met.

“Focus, Cole,” he said softly—low enough that only I could hear.

I nodded, trying to steady my grip.

The surgery continued. After the anastomosis, Liam carefully checked for leaks to ensure the join was secure.

“All right. Irrigate the cavity, then close in layers.”

The team followed his instructions. Warm fluid rinsed the surgical site, washing away blood. Liam sutured the peritoneum, then the muscle, and finally the outer skin.

At last, after more than two hours, Liam removed his gloves.

“Surgery complete. Patient stable.”

The monitor confirmed steady vital signs. The nurses and assistants exchanged knowing glances—impressed, but used to the excellence of Dr. Liam Darkmane.

I stepped back, placed the retractor on the instrument table, and looked at my hands—still slightly trembling. My breaths came quickly, not just from the intensity of the procedure, but from the overwhelming proximity to Liam.

He walked past me, his shoulder nearly brushing mine. As he did, his voice came low by my ear.

“I’ll be waiting in my office.”

I froze, my face heating beneath my mask. But before I could respond, he was already out of the operating room, walking away with a calmness that commanded respect. But I was the only one who had felt his body—though my memories were hazy.

Ugh! What was I thinking?

I needed to focus on finishing my clinical rotation, not getting caught up in some romance.

I stared at the door he had just exited.

Liam Darkmane wasn’t just a surgeon.

He was my mate.