Chapter 5

Drake POV 

He hadn't raised his voice. His mere presence was enough to make the surrounding staff instinctively lower their heads.

The corridor fell deathly silent.

Rowan blinked, clearly caught off guard by the sudden interruption. "I'm sorry, sir," he said politely. "I was only trying to do my job."

Father's eyes swept over him from head to toe. So...you're the new physiotherapist."

"Yes, sir. My name is Rowan Vale."

"You're Rowan Vale."

"I am."

Father slowly walked toward us. Each measured step seemed to make the air heavier.

When he finally stopped in front of Rowan, the difference between their Alpha and Omega pheromones became almost tangible.

"My son is perfectly capable of deciding whether he requires treatment. You needn't concern yourself with him."

Rowan tightened his grip on the medical kit.

"With respect, sir... I'm the team's physiotherapist. If the captain is injured, then treating him is part of my responsibility."

I glanced at Rowan.

Did he have any idea who he was speaking to?

Father's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "You certainly have courage."

Rowan smiled awkwardly. "I've been told it's more stupidity than courage."

For a moment, Father said nothing. Then the corner of his lips lifted almost imperceptibly.

It was impossible to tell whether he'd found Rowan amusing or whether he was simply entertained by his audacity. "You may be right."

His gaze shifted to me. "Drake."

"Yes, Father."

"If your injuries worsen because you refused treatment..." His expression hardened. "Don't expect sympathy from me."

"I understand."

Father gave a single nod before turning to leave. Just as he passed Rowan, he paused.

Without looking at him, he gave a warning. "Do your job well, Mr. Vale. The Scarlet Wolves do not tolerate incompetence."

Rowan straightened immediately. "I won't disappoint you, sir."

Father resumed walking, disappearing down the corridor without another word.

The moment he was gone, Rowan released the breath he'd been holding.

He stared after him for several seconds, then he looked at me. "Your father is terrifying."

I raised an eyebrow. "You're only realizing that now?"

Rowan gave me a flat look. "I was too busy trying not to die."

We walked into my room, since he had insisted on treating the wound himself.

"Take off your clothes and let me see your back."

I froze.

What the heck?

Why did he need me to take off my clothes just to treat a wound? Was there some kind of sexual perk that came with being a physiotherapist?

God, this was embarrassing.

"Why do I need to take off my clothes for you to treat me?"

He raised an eyebrow, a smug smile slowly spreading across his face. "Should I treat the clothes or you instead?"

“Ooh, you wanted...” I trailed off, suddenly realizing what I had been thinking.

“I thought... Nothing.”

I quickly pulled off my clothes, refusing to meet his eyes.

He laughed hard. "Hahahaha. You actually thought of another thing."

My face burned.

Damn him.

I glared at him, but that only seemed to make him laugh harder. "Shut up."

He finally calmed down and turned back to his bag, rummaging through it for bandages and medicine.

I looked away, trying to regain whatever remained of my dignity. Why had I even thought that?

He was a physiotherapist. Obviously, he needed access to my back to treat the wound.

And yet, the moment he'd told me to take off my clothes, my mind had immediately gone somewhere it had absolutely no business going.

Pathetic.

I clenched my jaw.

What was wrong with me?

Maybe it was because of the way he had smiled. That smug, knowing smile made it seem like he'd seen straight through my thoughts.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye.

Unfortunately, he looked completely unbothered. As if embarrassing me was just another part of his job.

I was beginning to regret letting him treat me.

No.

That was a lie.

I was beginning to regret how easily he was getting under my skin.

"Oh my God, that must hurt a lot." His fingers carefully traced around the wound, inspecting the bruised skin.

I flinched slightly. "Just do whatever you were paid to do."

"Yeah, yeah. I heard you."

Silence returned.

I stared straight ahead while he continued cleaning the wound. His touch was surprisingly gentle, completely different from the sharpness of his tongue.

I didn't know why that bothered me.

Perhaps because I had expected him to be irritating from beginning to end.

Instead, he was annoyingly considerate.

After a moment, he spoke again.

"Your father..." He hesitated briefly. "He's one hell of a disciplinarian, Drake. It must be bad with him."

My expression hardened. "That's none of your business."

"I get."

He didn't push further.

He simply continued cleaning the wound before carefully wrapping the bandage around it.

“Alright, all done.” He secured the last end of the bandage and gently patted it into place.

“You should avoid putting too much pressure on it for the next few days.”

I glanced over my shoulder at the neatly wrapped wound. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.” He packed the remaining supplies back into his medical bag, looking entirely too satisfied with himself.

I reached for my clothes. “Good. You can leave now.”

He paused and looked at me. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I didn’t ask you to do it.”

“And yet, I did.” He flashed me that irritatingly smug smile before slinging his bag over his shoulder.

I sighed.

This man was going to be a problem.

His phone suddenly rang.

Rowan glanced at the screen before muttering under his breath, "Why is this cheat calling me?"

It was barely audible, but werewolves had far more advanced hearing than humans. Every word reached my ears clearly.

He cut the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket before turning to me. "Well, you could try escorting me to my stop, you know."

I stared at him. Was he seriously asking me to escort him?

"How much?"

He blinked. "What?"

"How much to buy your help?"

I grabbed my wallet, already pulling it open.

If this nosy bastard wanted money for every little thing he did, I was more than willing to pay him to leave me alone.

Rowan stared at the wallet in my hand before bursting into laughter. "You're unbelievable."

I frowned. "What?"

"Nothing." He shook his head, still grinning. "Put your money away, Captain. I wasn't asking for payment."

"Then what were you asking for?"

"An escort."

"I heard you the first time."

“Clearly not.” He smiled.

Goddammit, he was really becoming a huge nemesis of mine.