The presence of Lycans tonight left me in awe. My upbringing taught me that lycans and wolves were sworn enemies, their animosity passed down through generations. The forbidden love between the two species was said to be sacrilege. Still, my astonishment had to be set aside—I had a duty to fulfill as a doctor.
A wounded werewolf burst through the doors of the emergency room, clutching an unconscious wolf. I sprang into action, joined by nurses hastily adjusting their attire. What had unfolded to bring them here in such a state? My focus shifted entirely to the gravely injured lycan, and for an instant, I could sense the rhythm of his failing heart echo within me.
While I assessed his vital signs, a hesitant nurse connected him to various machines. As I gently lifted his eyelid to ch*ck his pupil response, a surge of electricity coursed through my fingertips. Bewildered, I found myself taken aback as his eyes abruptly snapped open, jolting both our heart rates.
His gaze locked onto mine, penetrating and alive, despite his fragile condition. He murmured something inaudible, urging me closer. Then, in an instant, he flatlined, leaving my mind spinning. Did he just whisper the word “mate”?
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