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A Patient In The Dark

last update publish date: 2025-04-09 17:37:56

Becca gritted her teeth as she half-dragged, half-carried the unconscious man inside her clinic.

He was much heavier than she had expected, his body packed with thick muscle beneath the robes he wore.

Her arms ached, but she didn’t stop—not when his fevered skin burned against hers, not when she felt the unsteady rise and fall of his chest.

Without hesitation, she put him onto her table.

As she attempted to remove his clothes, a scent drifted toward her—faint but unmistakable.

Her entire body froze.

No…

That scent.

It was familiar. Too familiar.

Her stomach twisted violently, nausea rising in her throat.

It smelled like him.

Like Alpha Desmond.

A scent she had spent months trying to forget.

A scent that haunted her nightmares.

A scent that had once made her heart race with longing, only to now make her sick with anger.

She stumbled back, her breath shallow.

Was it him? Had Desmond come here in disguise? Had he—?

No.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to think rationally.

The scent was similar, but not identical.

Desmond’s scent had been sharper, filled with authority and arrogance.

This man’s scent was… different. More rugged. Worn down by pain and exhaustion.

Still, her hands trembled as she reached for his hood.

She needed to see his face.

She hesitated for a brief moment, then pulled the hood down.

Her breath hitched.

The man was stunning.

Even in unconsciousness, his features were sharp—his jaw strong, his lips full, his dark lashes long against his pale skin.

His short, dark hair was filled with sweat, strands sticking to his forehead.

He was maybe a warrior because his body was sculpted with power, each muscle defined even beneath the injuries.

Becca shook herself. Focus.

She pulled the rest of the robe away, revealing the true extent of his wounds.

Her eyes widened at the deep injury across his side.

The wound was swollen, the flesh surrounding it turning an unnatural shade of purple.

Poison.

Her instincts kicked in.

She grabbed her medical supplies—a sharp knife, clean bandages, herbal paste, and a vial of antidote she had prepared for venomous wounds.

Without wasting time, she cut away his clothes around the injury, exposing the infected area.

Her fingers moved quickly, her training taking over as she carefully cleaned the wound.

She ground a mixture of healing herbs, pressing the paste into the open cut before injecting the antidote into his bloodstream.

The poison would have killed him within hours if she had not acted.

But now, he would live.

She was sure of it.

Just as Becca was finishing her work, the clinic door creaked open.

“Becca, I’m so sorry!”

Becca clenched her jaw.

Mira.

Her assistant was late. Again.

Mira rushed inside, her breathless voice filling the room.

She was a few years younger than Becca and had a habit of running late.

Becca shot her a glare.

“Mira, do you even understand what ‘being on time’ means?”

Mira winced.

“I know, I know! But listen, I had a really good reason this time—”

“No excuse,” Becca snapped, wiping her bloodied hands on a cloth. “What if I had needed your help with a patient?”

Mira’s gaze drifted past Becca to the unconscious man on the table. Her eyes widened.

“Bless the moon, who is that?!” She exclaimed.

Becca exhaled, exhaustion creeping into her bones.

“I don’t know.”

Mira stepped closer, examining him with wide eyes.

“Okay, but… where did he come from? He’s—wow. He’s ridiculously handsome.”

Becca rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Mira, very helpful observation.”

Mira ignored her sarcasm.

“He’s injured. How did this happen?”

“I found him outside,” Becca muttered, rubbing her temples. “He collapsed. I couldn’t just leave him there.”

Mira’s excitement disappeared, replaced by unease.

“Becca… what if he’s from a rival pack?”

Becca crossed her arms.

“I don’t care where he’s from.”

Mira gaped.

“You should care! What if he’s dangerous?”

Becca’s voice hardened.

“I don’t pick and choose who I heal, Mira. If someone is hurt, I help them.”

Mira chewed on her lip, clearly unconvinced.

“I just think we should be careful. What if—”

A loud bang on the clinic door made them both jump.

The door burst open.

Five men stormed inside.

Becca’s stomach sank.

Guards.

They wore the dark armor of the pack’s enforcers, their expressions cold and unyielding.

Becca straightened her spine.

“If you’ve come to demand more taxes, tell Alpha Desmond I have nothing left to give.”

The tallest guard smirked.

“We’re not here for taxes.”

Becca’s brow furrowed.

“Then why are you here?”

The guard stepped forward, his presence suffocating.

“By the order of Alpha Desmond, you are under arrest.”

Becca blinked.

“What?”

Mira gasped.

“Wait—what do you mean? She hasn’t done anything wrong!”

The guard ignored her, grabbing Becca’s arm.

Becca pulled herself free.

“Tell me why I’m being arrested" she demanded.

The guards didn’t answer.

Instead, they sneered.

“Why should an Omega question us?”

“Rejected by an Alpha and still thinks she matters.”

“Pathetic.”

Anger flared inside Becca.

“If you don’t give me a reason, I’m not going anywhere.”

The lead guard grabbed her wrist harshly, pulling her toward the door.

“You don’t have a choice.”

Mira lunged forward, trying to remove the guard off.

“Leave her alone!”

Another guard seized Mira by the arm.

Mira kicked and struggled.

“Let go of me!”

Becca fought against her captor, her voice sharp.

“Why are you taking her?”

The guard chuckled.

“You were talking too much. Thought you could use some company in the dungeons.”

Becca’s heart pounded.

“Dungeons?”

Panic clawed at her throat.

Then—

One of the guards noticed the unconscious man on the table.

His expression changed instantly.

“What the hell—?” he took another look at Becca. "You're in even bigger trouble."

The lead guard narrowed his eyes.

“Take him too.”

Becca’s stomach dropped.

“No!”

She stepped protectively in front of the injured man, her instincts screaming.

The guard shoved her aside.

She crashed against the wall, pain exploding through her shoulder.

Before she could recover, two guards lifted the unconscious man from the table.

Becca’s breath caught.

She didn’t even know who he was.

And now…

They were all being taken.

As the guards dragged her, Mira, and the stranger out of the clinic, Becca’s mind raced.

What did Alpha Desmond want with her?

And who the hell was the man she had just saved?

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