Page 29 of Paw Inspiring (Paranormal Dating Agency #86)

TWENTY-EIGHT

A rtek paced the clinic’s waiting area like a caged animal, his bear clawing at his control. The scent of Meara’s blood still filled his nostrils, driving him half-mad with the need to protect, to destroy anything that threatened her. He’d already killed Miguel Lopez—a decision his bear approved of completely—but it would only escalate the situation. German would come at them harder now.

“Sugar, you’re going to wear a hole in that floor.” Frenchy sprawled across two chairs, the mild sedative the healers had given him finally taking effect. “Though I must say, the way those muscles ripple when you pace... Meara’s one lucky artist.”

Trey snorted from his position by the door. “Maybe ease up on the commentary before our alpha breaks something else today.”

“What? I’m just appreciating the view. Besides—” Frenchy sat up straighter, suddenly looking more alert. “Someone needs to do something about those two. The sexual tension is thick enough to paint with.”

Before Artek could respond, the healer emerged from the examination room. “Mr. Riggs? She’s asking for you.”

Artek crossed the space in three long strides. Inside, Meara sat on the edge of an examination table, her dark hair falling loose around her shoulders. They’d cleaned the blood from her face and bandaged her cuts. The sight of those white strips of gauze made his hands clench.

“Hey.” She offered a small smile that did nothing to hide her wince.

“How bad?”

“Two bruised ribs, some cuts and bruises. Nothing broken.” She touched her split lip gingerly. “Though I might need to reschedule any modeling gigs.”

The attempt at humor couldn’t mask her trembling. Artek moved closer, drawn by an instinct deeper than thought. His fingers brushed her cheek, careful to avoid her injuries. “You shouldn’t have had to face them alone.”

“I wasn’t alone. I had Frenchy and his deadly paintbrush skills.”

“Meara.” His voice roughened. “I’m serious. German will retaliate after this. He’ll?—”

“Oh honey, the solution is obvious.” Frenchy sashayed into the room, apparently having thrown off the sedative’s effects through sheer force of will. “Our hunky bear here needs to move into the cabin. For security reasons, of course.”

Meara’s cheeks flushed pink. “Frenchy!”

“What? The cabin has plenty of space. Unless...” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “You’d prefer to share a room? Because let me tell you, with the way you two look at each other?—”

“There are several nice guest rooms,” Meara cut in quickly, not quite meeting Artek’s eyes. A shy smile played at the corners of her mouth. “If you wanted...”

“Yes.” The word came out like a growl. Artek didn’t hesitate—couldn’t hesitate, not when every instinct screamed to stay close, to protect what was his. “I’ll move in today.”

“Well!” Frenchy clapped his hands. “My work here is done. Trey, darling, help me find more of whatever they gave me earlier? I feel positively divine.”

The door clicked shut behind them, leaving Artek alone with Meara. The air seemed to thicken with unspoken possibilities.

“You don’t have to—” she started.

Artek closed the distance between them, bracing his hands on either side of her hips. “Yes, I do.” He leaned in, his lips a breath from hers. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t.” Her fingers curled into his shirt.

“When I saw you bleeding...” He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing in her scent. “I nearly lost my mind. I need to be close enough to protect you.”

“Just to protect me?” The teasing note in her voice made him pull back slightly to see her expression.

“Minx.” He captured her mouth in a gentle kiss, mindful of her split lip. “You know it’s more than that.”

She hummed against his lips. “Tell me anyway.”

“I need to touch you.” Another soft kiss. “To hold you.” His hands slid to her waist. “To know you’re safe and whole and mine.”

“Yours?” Her breath hitched.

“Mine.” He drew back enough to meet her gaze. “Unless you object?”

“About those guest rooms...” A mischievous glint sparked in her eyes. “Maybe Frenchy had a point about not needing more than one.”

Heat surged through his blood. “Careful, little artist. My control isn’t at its best right now.”

“Good.” She tugged him closer. “Though we should probably discuss sleeping arrangements somewhere more private than a clinic room.”

“Sleeping arrangements?” He raised an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume there’ll be much sleeping involved.”

Her laugh turned into a soft gasp as he nuzzled her neck. “Artek...”

“We’ll take it slow,” he murmured against her skin. “But I’m done pretending I can keep my distance. Watching you get hurt today...” He lifted his head, meeting her eyes. “It changed things.”

“I know.” She touched his face, tracing the tension in his jaw. “I feel it too.”

A knock at the door made them both jump. “If you two are done making eyes at each other,” Frenchy called through the wood, “the doctor wants to go over Meara’s aftercare instructions. Though I’m sure our protective alpha here will handle that quite... thoroughly.”

Artek growled softly as Meara buried her face in his chest, laughing despite her embarrassment.

“Your friend is impossible.”

“But he’s not wrong.” She smiled up at him. “About any of it.”

He helped her down from the examination table, keeping her tucked against his side. Whatever came next—German’s retaliation, the Lopez clan’s fury—they’d face it together. His bear rumbled in satisfaction at the thought.

After all, he had a mate to protect. And nothing, not even death itself, would stop him from keeping her safe.