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Without thinking, I step between them.

My body moves before my brain catches up, placing myself as a barrier between predator and prey. "He'll die without immediate treatment. That wound has severed the femoral artery based on bleeding pattern. Minutes at most."

Vex's pupils contract to thin slits, dominance and territorial aggression radiating from his frame like heat from a forge. For a terrible moment, I think he might simply move me aside—or through me—to reach his target.

"You're breaking Conquest Law by helping him," he growls, voice dropping to that register that makes my claiming marks throb with involuntary submission.

My knees want to buckle. My omega instincts scream at me to bare my throat and beg forgiveness. Instead, I force myself to stand firm.

"I'm a nurse. I took an oath to preserve life."

"Your human oaths don't matter anymore."

"They're all that's left of who I used to be," I counter, meeting his gaze despite every instinct demanding I lower my eyes. "If you're going to kill him, you'll have to go through me first."

Behind me, the injured man makes a strangled sound of disbelief. A human woman standing up to a Chimeric Dominator? It must look like suicide.

Vex's expression cycles through emotions I can't read before settling into something like reluctant calculation. The alpha who just filled me with his seed, who claimed me so tenderly while I carried his child, now weighs my life against territorial law.

"Fine," he finally says. "Patch him up. I'll decide what to do with him after."

Relief floods through me so fast I almost sag. It's a compromise I can live with.

I turn immediately to the wounded fighter, dropping to my knees beside him. "I need my medical kit," I tell Vex without looking up. "Clean water. Bandages. The antibiotic powder from the southern cache."

To my surprise, he doesn't argue. Just turns and disappears back down the passage toward the main den. The injured man stares after him with undisguised shock.

"Keep pressure here," I instruct, guiding his hands to the proper position. "What's your name?"

"Eli," he answers, voice weak but coherent. "You're... human."

"Last time I checked." I examine the wound edges around his makeshift bandage. Clean cut, likely from sharp rock rather than weapons. "What happened?"

"Rock slide. Was trying to avoid a Feline patrol." His breathing comes in shallow pants. "Wasn't expecting to find a Chimeric den."

"Well, you found one. And it's your lucky day—the Chimeric you found happens to have a captive nurse."

"Lucky," he repeats with a weak laugh that becomes a wince.

Vex returns with surprising speed, arms loaded with supplies. He sets them beside me without comment, then positions himself at the entrance where he can monitor both us and the passage outside.

I work quickly, hands falling into familiar rhythms. Emergency medicine was my specialty—trauma cases where seconds meant the difference between life and death. The femoral artery isn't completely severed, but it's nicked badly enough to create life-threatening hemorrhage.

"This will hurt," I warn as I prepare coagulant powder.

Eli's jaw tightens. "Do what you need to."

The next thirty minutes pass in focused medical work. Throughout the procedure, I feel Vex's gaze tracking everymovement with predatory attention. His presence creates tension that makes my shoulders ache, but also... something else.

Protection.

He's guarding us both, I realize. Not just watching to ensure I don't help the resistance fighter escape, but actively protecting the space where I work.

"Your Chimeric is unusual," Eli comments as I finish the final bandage, voice low enough he probably thinks Vex can't hear. Given Chimeric hearing, he's wrong.

"He's not mine," I correct automatically. "I'm a captive."

Eli's eyes flick to the claiming marks on my throat, the way I unconsciously orient toward Vex even while focused on medical work. "Captives don't usually give orders about medical supplies. And Primes don't usually let resistance fighters live after territorial intrusion."