Page 14

SAbrINA

Marshall’s massive body hung limp in Logan’s arms as he kicked open the clinic door.

My heart lurched at the sight. Marshall’s skin had turned ashen, his breathing so shallow I could barely detect it.

His normally ruddy sun-kissed complexion was now pale as winter moonlight.

The sour scent of sickness rolled off him in waves.

“Get him on the table,” I commanded, sweeping my arm across the exam surface to clear it. Supplies clattered to the floor. “What happened?”

Logan laid Marshall down with surprising gentleness. “Found him collapsed in his barn. Temperature is through the roof.”

“Stubborn old wolf.” Despite my protests that he stay at the clinic for further observation, Marshall insisted on going back to his ranch.

Said his animals needed him. Now, he was paying the price.

I pressed my stethoscope to Marshall’s chest, wincing at the erratic, racing heartbeat. “Fever’s at 105.”

My hands moved steadily, but inside, panic clawed at my chest. I’d treated shifter illnesses before, but never one this advanced, never one where failure meant losing not just a patient but someone who had become my friend.

The voice of my old medical school professor echoed in my head: “You’re smart, Wu, but are you tough enough? ”

I yanked open the medication cabinet, hands moving on autopilot as I grabbed what I needed. “Logan, get me the blue bottle on the top shelf.”

Logan moved with silent efficiency, his usual growl replaced by tense concentration. When he handed me the vial, his fingers brushed mine, and I felt something I’d never detected from him before, a tremor. The unshakeable alpha was scared.

I’d smelled fear on countless patients, but on Logan? It felt wrong, like watching a mountain crumble.

He trusts me with this , I realized. He’s letting me see him afraid.

That fear sparked something fierce inside me. I wouldn’t let him down. Wouldn’t let Marshall down.

Marshall’s eyes flickered open, clouded with pain. “Doc…?” The word barely escaped as a rasp.

I squeezed his hand, forcing a smile. “You’re not dying on my watch, Boone. Don’t give up on us now.”

My fingers moved with practiced precision while my mind raced through every case study, every lecture, every desperate midnight remedy I’d ever encountered.

The silver nitrate solution shimmered under the harsh fluorescent lights as I measured the precise dosage, knowing the line between cure and poison was razor thin.

Too much would send Marshall into immediate organ failure.

Too little would leave the heavy metals free to continue ravaging his system.

Logan hovered at my elbow, his body radiating heat I could feel without touching him. His breath came in controlled, even measures. Every muscle in his powerful frame coiled tight, ready to act, yet he remained still, giving me space to work while staying close enough that I knew he had my back.

“His heartbeat is irregular,” I murmured, more to organize my thoughts than to inform Logan. “The poisons are affecting his cardiac rhythm.”

Juniper’s voice cut through my concentration. “Try this.” The elderly healer pressed a mortar filled with a slurry into my palm, her weathered face creased with concern. “Burdock root. Draws out poisons.”

Logan elevated Marshall’s shoulder as I administered the mixture through the IV while Juniper fed him her herbal concoction. “Stay with us, you stubborn bastard,” Logan growled.

Marshall’s lips twitched slightly, but then his body convulsed. His back arched off the table like he was being electrocuted.

“Hold him down!” I barked, reaching for an anti-seizure medication.

My pulse hammered in my ears as I checked the monitors. No change. Damn it. I reached for another vial, but Logan caught my wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle.

“Breathe,” he murmured, his eyes finding mine. “You’ve got this.”

His faith in me steadied my hand. I nodded, adjusting the medication dosage. This time, when I administered it, Marshall’s breathing evened slightly. Not a victory yet, but a reprieve.

Hours blurred together. Logan never left my side, anticipating my needs before I could voice them, handing me instruments, wiping Marshall’s brow when my hands were busy, bringing me water when my voice grew hoarse from murmuring encouragement to our patient.

When my confidence faltered as Marshall’s vitals dipped dangerously low, Logan’s steady presence kept me going.

Each time I caught his gaze, his belief in me flowed through our bond.

This was what being mated meant. It was not just protection, but unwavering support when the fight seemed impossible.

Near dawn, Marshall’s fever finally broke. I checked his vitals for the twentieth time and found them steadying. Not normal, but no longer critical. I collapsed into a chair, every muscle in my body screaming in protest.

Logan knelt in front of me, his rough hands cradling my face with a tenderness that made my chest ache. “You did it.”

“No,” I whispered, my voice cracking from exhaustion. “We did it.”

His eyes, those amber depths that had seemed so cold when we first met, now glowed with warmth.

I leaned into his touch, too exhausted to speak.

His thumb brushed across my cheek, and I realized it was wet.

I was crying. Logan didn’t try to wipe the tears away or tell me to stop.

He simply held me, letting them fall, his gaze telling me everything I needed to hear.

The moment broke when Logan’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out, his expression darkening as he read the message.

“Victoria’s lawyers are circling the mine like vultures.

” His voice dropped to a dangerous register, the growl rumbling through his chest and into mine where we touched.

“They’ve already approached the Roberts board with a generous offer to buy controlling interest for the good of the community. ” Disgust dripped from every word.

My exhaustion vanished, replaced by a cold fury. “She’s been planning this. The contamination was an opportunity she’s been waiting for.”

Logan’s eyes flashed wolf-gold, canines lengthening and garbling his words. “Victoria doesn’t wait for opportunities. She creates them.”

Logan’s phone lit up again with a news alert. His face darkened further. “The Roberts Mine CEO’s death is being ruled a natural cause.”

“How convenient,” I scoffed, anger cutting through my exhaustion. “Heart attack right when the contamination is discovered?”

Logan’s grip on my shoulder tightened. “We’re running out of time.”

A weak groan drew our attention. Marshall’s eyes were open, clearer now, though still pained.

“You two look like hell,” he croaked.

I laughed, the sound catching in my throat. “Takes one to know one, Boone.”

While Marshall drifted back to sleep, Logan helped me clean up the medical supplies, our movements synchronized without a word between us. When the last syringe was disposed of and the monitors set to alert us to any changes, I finally allowed myself to collapse against Logan’s chest.

His arms wrapped around me immediately, solid and sure. I breathed him in.

“You scared me,” he admitted, the words muffled against my hair.

I tilted my head up, surprised. “Me?”

Logan’s gaze was raw, stripped of pretense. “Seeing you push yourself to the edge. I couldn’t lose you.”

I raised my hand to cup his face, my thumb tracing the scar on his jaw. “You won’t,” I whispered.

His lips met mine in a slow kiss. It was not frantic like our night in the cabin, but something deeper, an oath sealed between us.

A sharp knock shattered the moment. The door swung open before either of us could respond, and Dr.Elias Vance strode in, his expression a careful mask of professional concern that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I heard about Marshall’s condition from the mine foreman,” he said. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, suggesting he’d been up all night too, though his shirt remained crisply pressed. “I came as soon as I could.”

The faint scent of cologne couldn’t quite mask the acrid stench of anxiety emanating from him. This wasn’t just a social call or a power play. Vance was worried. Not about Marshall, I realized, but about something else entirely.

I stepped forward, putting myself between him and my patient. “Marshall is stable now, Dr.Vance. Your assistance isn’t necessary.”

Vance’s eyes narrowed slightly as he assessed Marshall’s monitors, his expression shifting from feigned concern to genuine surprise. “You actually stabilized him.” He wasn’t speaking to me but to himself, the words carrying a weight of implications I couldn’t fully decipher.

He recovered quickly, straightening his tie. “Impressive work, Dr.Wu. But I’d recommend transferring him to the company facility. We have equipment specifically calibrated for treating these unusual cases.”

His words set off warning bells. He knew exactly what we were dealing with.

Logan moved to stand beside me, his body radiating barely restrained violence. “You mean you have facilities designed to cover up contamination symptoms.”

A muscle in Vance’s jaw twitched. “That’s quite an accusation, Mr.Song. The Roberts Mining Corporation has always prioritized worker safety.”

“Then why are your workers dying?” I challenged, emboldened by Logan’s presence beside me. “Why does Marshall have toxic levels of heavy metals in his system that match exactly what we found in the creek?”

Something flickered across Vance’s face, not just fear but genuine conflict. For a heartbeat, I glimpsed a man trapped between professional obligations and moral responsibility.

“You don’t understand the complexities of the situation,” he said in a low voice. “There are factors at play beyond your comprehension.”

“Enlighten us,” Logan growled.

Vance glanced at the door, then back at us. “The mine has been under external pressure. New investors are demanding increased production rates, pushing to cut corners.” He straightened, his professional mask sliding back into place. “But that doesn’t mean I condone what’s happening.”

“Yet you’re here to contain the evidence,” I said, the realization bitter on my tongue.

“I’m here to offer my professional expertise,” Vance countered, but the denial lacked strength. “You’re good, Dr.Wu. Better than I anticipated. But you’re fighting forces larger than one doctor can handle.”

He turned to leave but paused at the door. “And Mr.Song? Your family connections won’t protect you if you continue pursuing this. Some of us learned that lesson the hard way.”

The door closed behind him with a soft click, far more unsettling than a slam would have been.

My hands shook with anger and a delayed adrenaline crash. Logan pulled me close again, his heartbeat steady against my ear.

“He’s wrong,” Logan said fiercely. “You saved Marshall with nothing but guts and grit. That’s worth more than all his damn resources.”

I buried my face in his shirt, letting the rhythm of his heart calm my nerves.

Logan pressed his lips to the top of my head. “When this is over, when we’ve stopped Victoria and cleaned up this mess with the mine,” he started, but then paused. His arms tightened around me. “Stay, Sabrina.”

The simplicity of the request knocked the breath from my lungs. Two words that carried the weight of a future I hadn’t allowed myself to imagine.

But I remembered every time I’d put down tentative roots only to be uprooted again. Every hospital that had valued my skills but never quite accepted a female doctor who smiled too much and didn’t play corporate politics.

“Logan, I—” My voice caught. How could I explain that staying terrified me almost as much as leaving? That the thought of belonging somewhere, to someone, after a lifetime of professional detachment made my heart race with both longing and fear?

Instead of words, I lifted my hand to his face, tracing the strong line of his jaw. The stubble there rasped against my fingertips, another sensory memory I would carry with me no matter what came next.

“Let me help you save this place first,” I whispered, neither a yes nor a no but a promise of now. “Then we’ll talk about forever.”