Page 18 of The Bookseller and the Alpha (Witch Twins #1)

Luc

I took the corner hard, going too quickly.

The tyres squealed, protesting. and I smelled burning rubber as the car briefly swung into the middle of the road before I wrenched the wheel and brought the vehicle back under control.

At two in the morning, there were no other cars out.

A light fog had settled over the city, giving a pale yellow halo to the streetlights.

If my skin hadn’t been tight, prickling with rage and fear I’d have thought it a beautiful night. Serene. Peaceful.

Looks can be deceiving.

The clock on the dashboard clicked over to another minute. That made it ten. Ten minutes since the phone call. Ten of the longest minutes of my life.

I was moving before the call had finished, running out of the Palace to get my car. My mind feverishly going over the small details I’d been told. Each time my thoughts snagged on the words: Hurt. Hospital. Sam had been supposed to protect her. Inside me, Beast raged. You should have been there.

It had felt like my heart would burst out of my chest when the person on the other end of the line had told me that Calypso had been hurt. I couldn’t catch my breath. It was as though the ground under my feet had fallen away, and I was teetering on the edge of a cliff.

How badly was she hurt? I caught myself spiralling and tried to bring my breathing back under control. To rein in the panic. They’re okay; they’re in the hospital. My fingers were white where they gripped the steering wheel.

Hurry, hurry.

“I am hurrying,” I said out loud. “But it won’t do any good if I roll the car.” Deliberately I eased back on the accelerator and slackened my grip on the steering wheel.

Less than ten minutes later I pulled up outside the entrance to the Hospital ER.

I slapped the Palace permit on the dash.

Inside, the smell of antiseptic and bleach warred with the fragrance of the large bouquet of carnations on the reception desk.

The nurse behind the desk, eyes tired, salt and pepper hair tied back in a ponytail, sat up a bit straighter when I flashed my badge.

“One of my staff, Sam Carnavan, was brought in by ambulance. There was a woman with him too, Calypso Ferrera.”

The nurse, whose name badge said ‘Debra’ looked at her screen, then back at my badge.

“Sir, you’ll need to talk to the doctor about Mr Carnavan.

Ms Ferrera is down the hall, Bay 12.” I nodded my thanks and followed her pointing hand.

Sam would be all right. He was probably already mostly healed, given Shifter regeneration.

He wasn’t an Alpha, so he would heal more slowly than me, but he would still heal faster than a human.

At this moment I didn’t care about anything except Calypso.

The curtains to Bay 12 were open. My heart was pounding like I’d run a marathon.

Calypso lay on a stretcher, eyes shut, her arms resting on a blue blanket pulled up to her chest. She wore faded, pink flannelette pyjamas. She looked small, fragile. My eyes roved over her body, looking for injuries. There was a neat line of stitches across her forehead. No IV line; no monitor.

The shuddering in my breath eased and the intense rush of relief made me dizzy.

I half-fell into the small hard plastic chair pulled up next to the bed.

I wanted to pull her into my arms, hold her tight, run my hands over her limbs to satisfy myself that she would be well.

But she wouldn’t be ready for that and now wasn’t the time for any explanations.

Instead, I took her hand into mine, rubbing the knuckles with the tips of my fingers.

She stirred slightly but didn’t wake. Beast purred at the sensation of her soft skin next to mine.

Somehow I’d known exactly how it would feel.

Safe. She was safe.

Her fingers were long and delicate, unlike mine.

Her nails were short and clean, with the remnants of polish still lingering on a couple of them.

Unthinkingly, I brought them to my lips and kissed them.

Her eyes opened and met mine. She blushed fiery red.

She blushed . My lips curved into a smile.

What have you been thinking my naughty little mate?

“Hi,” she said, her voice raspy. She didn’t try to pull her fingers from mine. The physical contact eased a little more of the tightness in my chest.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I hit my head against the wall,” she said, with a smile of her own, then a grimace. “Ouch, that hurts.” The hand not captured in mine reached up to gently feel the stitches at her forehead. “How bad is it?”

I flicked my eyes up to the line, then back to hers. “The stitches are neat,” I assured her. “And it’s right up near your hairline. It will add to your allure.”

“Yeah, right. My allure.” She rolled her eyes, then winced again. “It hurts when I do that too.”

I tucked away for later the fact that she’d rolled her eyes when I’d mentioned her looks.

There would be time to discuss that when she wasn’t hurt.

First I needed to address the threat to my mate.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Her smile vanished as I knew it would, and it was like the sun had gone behind a cloud.