Page 33 of Vexing the Grumpy Orc

Two nurses burst through the sliding doors, followed by an orderly pushing a gurney. Their eyes widened at the sight of Galan.

“Stab wound,” I explained, nurse mode kicking in despite my panic. “Heavy bleeding. He’s lost consciousness twice.”

Together, we managed to transfer Galan’s massive form onto the gurney. I kept pace as they wheeled him through the doors, Digby trotting at my heels.

The harsh fluorescent lights of the ER made the blood on my hands look obscenely bright. And they shook. So much. Too much. I needed to be steady. I needed to help

The doctor at the nurses’ station turned and narrowed his eyes. Harrison Rocha clicked his pen closed and stuffed it into a pocket.

“Ms. Cuyler? What’s going on here?”

“He needs surgery,” I said, ignoring the question. “Now.”

Harrison approached cautiously, his gaze flicking from Galan to me. “Surely, he should be seen by his own kind? A shaman, or some such nonsense, I believe?”

Rage exploded through me. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“I’m simply suggesting?—”

“Let me be very clear.” I grabbed his lab coat, yanking him close. My hands were steady now, the tremors replaced by cold fury. Blood—Galan’s blood—smeared the white fabric where my fingers gripped.

I’d spent my career navigating the politics of hospital hierarchies, swallowing my pride, playing nice. Following rules created by bastards like Harrison who thought their medical degrees gave them the right to lord over anyone who walked through their doors needing care.

That Hannah was gone. Burned away by the sight of Galan’s blood soaking through my clothes, by thememory of his body shielding mine, by the weight of his declaration:My mate.

“If he dies because you delayed treatment, I will end your career. I will go to every medical board, every ethics committee, every news outlet in the country. I will make sure everyone knows exactly what kind of doctor you are.”

Harrison’s face flushed. “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m promising you.” I held his gaze, letting him see the witch behind the nurse. “And then I’ll come for you personally.”

Harrison blanched, stumbling back when I released him. “Dr. Patel!” he called, his voice cracking. “Emergency case here!”

A woman in scrubs appeared, taking in the scene with a quick, professional glance. “What happened?”

“He’s been stabbed and needs surgery,” I said, not taking my eyes off Harrison. “Dr. Rocha seems to think his species disqualifies him from care.”

Dr. Patel’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s not hospital policy.” She moved to Galan’s side, checking his vitals. “Get him to OR Two. Now.”

The orderlies sprang into action, wheeling Galan through double doors. I tried to follow, but a nurse gently blocked my path.

“You need to stay here,” she said kindly. “We’ll take good care of him.”

I stood there, covered in Galan’s blood, watchingthe doors swing shut behind him. My legs threatened to give out as the adrenaline began to ebb.

Digby pressed against my calf, his warm weight anchoring me to the moment. I sank into a nearby chair, burying my fingers in his fur.

“He has to be okay,” I whispered, more prayer than statement. “He has to be.”

CHAPTER TEN

GALAN

Itraced the grain of wood in Hannah’s windowsill, following its path with my eyes as sunlight slanted through the glass. The mountain air filled the small bedroom, carrying scents of pine and distant rain. A week trapped in this bed had me memorizing every knot in the wood, every pattern in the ceiling.

My side twinged as I shifted on the bed. A week since Hannah had let me use my own two feet for anything more than a trip to the bathroom. A week of her fussing and hovering and threatening to hex me if I tried to get up without permission.

Seven fucking days since my father had tried to kill us both.

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