Chapter 2: The Man with Silver Eyes

Clara's POV

Getting Kael to my clinic is like trying to move a mountain. Even injured and bleeding, he's solid muscle and dead weight. My small Honda groans under his bulk as I half-drag, half-carry him from the car to the back entrance of my practice.

"This is insane," I mutter, fumbling with my keys while supporting his weight against my shoulder. "I should have called an ambulance."

"No hospitals," he repeats through gritted teeth, the same words from the alley. His voice is weaker now, but still carries that strange authority that makes me want to obey.

The clinic is dark and quiet at this hour. I flip on the lights in my treatment room and help him onto the examination table, where he immediately tries to sit up.

"Lie down," I order, pushing him back with surprising ease. For someone who felt impossibly heavy to move, he yields to my touch like I have some kind of power over him.

His silver eyes track my every movement as I gather supplies, gauze, antiseptic, sutures. My hands are steadier now that I have a purpose, something to focus on besides the wreckage of my personal life.

"This is going to hurt," I warn, approaching with a bottle of antiseptic.

"I've had worse."

Something in his tone makes me believe him. I pour the antiseptic over the deepest wound, expecting him to flinch or curse. Instead, he just watches my face with an intensity that makes my skin heat.

"What happened to you tonight?" he asks as I begin cleaning the wounds. "Before you found me."

My hands pause. "Does it matter?"

"You were crying. Your dress..." His eyes take in my ruined silk dress, still damp from the rain. "You were dressed for something special."

I don't know why I tell him. Probably because he's a stranger who'll disappear from my life after tonight, or because those silver eyes seem to pull truth out of me whether I want to give it or not.

"I caught my fiancé in bed with my best friend." The words come out flat, matter-of-fact. "Tonight was supposed to be our engagement celebration."

His jaw tightens. "Fool."

"David? Yeah, he…"

"No." Kael's eyes burn into mine. "Any man who would betray you is a fool."

The certainty in his voice catches me off guard. He doesn't even know me, yet he speaks like David committed some unforgivable sin against the universe itself.

I focus on his wounds to hide my confusion. The gashes are deep, the kind that should require dozens of stitches and leave permanent scars. But as I clean away the blood, I can see the edges already knitting together.

"This is impossible," I whisper, leaning closer to examine the largest wound.

That's when it happens.

My palm presses flat against his chest, right over his heart, and the world explodes into sensation. Heat races through my veins like liquid fire. Every nerve ending lights up at once, and for a moment I can't tell where I end and he begins. His silver eyes widen in shock, reflecting the same stunned recognition I feel.

The wound under my hand closes completely. Not healing… closing, like it was never there.

I jerk my hand back, gasping. "What the hell…"

Kael sits up so fast I stumble backward. His chest, which moments ago was torn open and bleeding, is now unmarked except for faint silver lines where the wounds used to be.

"You felt it too." His voice is rough, almost accusatory.

"Felt what?" But I know exactly what he means. That connection, that impossible surge of something between us.

"You shouldn't be able to…" He stops, running his hands through his dark hair. "This isn't possible."

"None of this is possible!" I gesture at his healed chest. "People don't heal like that. Whatever just happened, it's not normal."

"No," he agrees quietly. "It's not."

He swings his legs off the table, testing his strength. The movement makes his muscles ripple under skin that shows no sign of recent trauma. I try not to stare, but it's like trying not to notice the sun.

"I should go."

"Wait." The word comes out more desperate than I intended. "I need to understand what happened. What are you?"

For a moment, I think he'll answer. His mouth opens, closes. Those silver eyes hold secrets I'm not sure I want to know.

"Someone dangerous," he says finally. "Someone you're better off forgetting."

He heads for the door, moving with fluid grace that speaks of perfect health. No sign of the man I dragged bleeding from an alley an hour ago.

"Kael…"

He pauses at the sound of his name on my lips, his shoulders tensing.

"Will I see you again?"

"No." The word is final, absolute. "You won't."

Then he's gone, disappearing into the pre-dawn darkness like he was never here at all.

I sink into my desk chair, staring at the examination table where he lay. The only evidence of what happened is my ruined dress and the smell of antiseptic in the air. If not for that, I could almost believe I imagined the whole thing.

But I can still feel the echo of that connection, the memory of heat racing through my veins at his touch. My palm tingles where it pressed against his chest, and I catch myself rubbing the spot absently.

Hours pass. I clean up the supplies I never used, file away the medical equipment. I change out of my destroyed dress into scrubs I keep here for emergencies. But I can't stop thinking about silver eyes and impossible healing and the way my name sounded in his voice.

Dawn breaks through my office window, painting everything in soft gray light. I must have dozed off in my chair because I wake with a stiff neck and the crushing realization that I'm alone.

He's really gone.

And I'm furious about it.

Furious at him for leaving without explanation, for caring about a complete stranger. Angry that after the worst night of my life, David's betrayal destroyed everything I thought I knew about love, I'm sitting here obsessing over a man whose last name I don't even know.

A man who isn't even human, if what I saw was real.

I press my hands to my face, trying to make sense of the chaos in my head. Twelve hours ago, my biggest problem was planning a wedding. Now I'm questioning everything I know about reality.

My phone buzzes with a text from David: "Clara, please. We need to talk."

I delete it without reading the rest.

Whatever David has to say doesn't matter anymore. Something changed in that alley, that goes deeper than betrayal and broken promises. I touched Kael and felt truly alive for the first time in years.

And then he left me.

The smart thing would be to forget about him, pretend none of this happened, go back to my normal life. But as I sit here in the growing daylight, still feeling the phantom heat of his skin under my palm, I know forgetting him is impossible.

Kael may have vanished into the night, but whatever connected us in those brief moments isn't gone. I can feel it humming under my skin like a song I can't stop hearing.

He said I wouldn't see him again.

He was wrong.