Page 24 of Healed By the Grumpy Elf

"Aunt Evelyn, I've got Millie." Rylan approaches her. "We should get her home."

Evelyn Primrose. The notorious town gossip Mrs. Beckham warned me about. She smiles at her nephew but keeps her gaze fixed on Maeve and me.

"Of course, dear," she says, her voice musical like tiny bells. "I'm just observing our new doctor in action. Very impressive, working so seamlessly with our Maeve. Very natural, too."

Her smile lingers as her gaze goes from me to Maeve in succession before she finally follows her nephew. As the last parent leaves with their child, Maeve and I are left alone in the empty classroom. The sudden quiet feels almost unnatural after hours of manic giggling.

We both exhale simultaneously, the tension of the crisis temporarily subsiding. Maeve looks exhausted, her shoulders dropping slightly as she tucks another wayward curl behind her ear.

I have an inexplicable urge to reach out and pull it loose. I clench my hand into a fist instead.

"I apologize for my, um, inappropriate presentation the other day," I say stiffly. "I didn't consider the audience's developmental level."

Maeve looks up, surprise evident in her expression. Then she smiles, a genuine smile that transforms her entire face and does strange things to my internal organs. My vision starts to blur at the edges again, but I manage to fight it.

"Apology accepted, Dr. Reizenhart," she says, her voice warm. "Though I have to say, I think Tommy Fangsworth will eat his vegetables without complaint for years to come."

A laugh escapes me before I can stop it, brief but genuine. Maeve looks as startled by it as I feel.

"Well, Doctor," she says after a moment, breaking the silence. "Looks like we're stuck with each other until this is over."

I think about the coming days. Working alongside this woman who irritates and fascinates me in equal measure. Who makes me feel things I have no interest in feeling. Who handled a roomful of panicked parents with more skill than a general in combat.

How am I to resist the True Mate bond now?

"Perfect," I mutter, the word dripping with sarcasm even as something else entirely flutters in my chest. “We’re stuck together, indeed.”

Chapter 7

Maeve

Icanfeelhisgaze on me, like a burning hand on my nape.

Still, I focus my entire attention on the pixie girl sitting in front of me on the examination table. The examination room in Saltford Bay's medical clinic feels different than it did when Dr. Wells owned it. The walls are sterile white and there is a lingering smell of antiseptic in the air.

I'll have to talk to him about that. This is not a room designed to make people feel at ease. This is a room designed to make them feellike targets.

"Look at her go," Rylan Primrose says beside me, his voice heavy with relief. His expensive suit looks as immaculate as always, but dark circles rim his eyes, and his normally vibrant lavender wings droop slightly behind him.

Millie Primrose's violet eyes light up as she takes another lick of the bright-blue ice pop I handed her just a few minutes ago. I prepared the herbal remedy at my home just this morning. The herbal scent wafts up, mingling with the antiseptic smell that seems to permeate every corner of Dr. Reizenhart's newly renovated space.

"One more bite, Millie," I coax, aware of Lorian's tall presence behind me, his gaze fixed on our young patient.

Millie's freckles still glow softly against her pale skin, but the manic giggling that plagued her yesterday has subsided to occasional chuckles. Between licks of the ice pop, she stuffs a handful of animal crackers into her mouth with the enthusiasm only a five-year-old can muster for bland snacks.

I smile, watching Millie wolf down another handful of crackers.

"This is the first time she's eaten properly since this whole thing started." Rylan shakes his head, a faint smile on his lips. It's the first smile he gives us since stepping inside the room with his giggling daughter.

"The ice pops contain a mild herbal blend that temporarily suppresses the giggling reflex," I explain while retrieving a full bottle of the herbal concoction from my bag. Rylan accepts it with a grateful sigh. "It won't cure Millie or make her heal faster, but it should help her eat and drink until her body fights the Pixie-Pox."

"Whatever it is, it's working." Rylan runs a hand through his dark hair, identical to his daughter's. "I was up half the night trying to gether to drink something, anything. She just kept laughing and floating up to the ceiling."

"The ceiling in my bedroom has glow-in-the-dark stars." Millie looks up at me, her mouth ringed with blue. "I counted all forty-three of them when I was stuck up there."

I laugh and reach into my bag for a tissue. "That's quite impressive counting, sweetie."

"Ms. Grimsby says I'm very good at numbers," she says proudly, allowing me to wipe her face.