Page 51 of The Vampire's Receptionist
What was that all about?
While Dorian hadn’t ever thought Kian was his mate, the fact that he was glad he’d never have one rocked Dorian to the core. He didn't understand why Kian thought he couldn’t have one, all supernaturals had mates and even some humans, but it was a bigger concern that Kian seemed happy about the thought. Did he only feel that way about mates, or was he of the same mind about relationships as well? Dorian had been hoping to broach the topic of a real relationship beyond sex once Doctor Chapman figured out what was wrong with him, but now he wondered if it was a bad idea. He didn’t want to lose what they had, but he also didn’t want to pretend he didn’t want more either.
Dropping heavily into his chair, he winced when he was reminded yet again it was a replacement from his normal one and nowhere near as comfortable. The walls were patched, and the window pane replaced. It was almost as if nothing had happened. The only issue he had left was the chair, and he refused to ask Kian to order him another. He saw it as an extra punishment for himself for what he’d done. And it encouraged him not to stay too late when the chair was so uncomfortable.
He tried throwing himself into work to distract himself, but every time he had a spare moment, his mind wandered and inevitably ended up back on Kian. This wasn’t the first time he acted obsessive over the half-fae beauty, but it was getting a little ridiculous. He’d never reacted this way to one of his feeders before. What was it about Kian that kept him so enthralled?
Muffled shouting dragged his attention away from his wayward thoughts. It took only a moment to realize one of those voices was Kian, and he was on his feet instantly, hurrying to see what the problem was.
“I told you once, I’m not telling you again. I’m not giving you his address. You need to leave. Now.”
The werewolf staring down Kian bared his teeth menacingly. “If you don’t give me what I want, I’ll make sure you regret it,” he snarled.
Kian raised an eyebrow at him. “I’d like to see you try, asshole.”
The werewolf growled in vexation, nearly lunging over the desk to get into Kian’s face. “Tell me where he is!”
Dorian didn't remember making the conscious decision to move. From one blink to another, he was across the room, his forearm against the werewolf’s throat as he pinned him to the wall.
“Touch him, and I’ll rip your intestines out and hang you with them,” Dorian hissed.
“Dorian, stop! Let him go!” Kian demanded.
Dorian didn’t move. He wanted blood. The werewolf dared to threaten his Kian, dared to even think of laying a hand on him. He deserved whatever gruesome end Dorian could come up with. It wouldn’t have been his first kill. Dorian was old enough to have been part of the war. He knew some interesting ways to kill someone.
“Dorian, I swear to the goddess, if you don’t put him down, I’m knocking you out,” Kian threatened. “He’s going to pass out!”
The werewolf was gasping, Dorian’s forearm pressed firmly enough to block his airway. But it was the way the wolf tipped his head to expose his neck and whined that broke through Dorian’s bloodlust. That was a surrender for werewolves. He wasn’t fighting back. If Dorian killed him now, it would make him a monster.
Slowly, he pulled away, his breathing heavy as he watched the werewolf crumple to the ground. Kian marched past him,reaching for the wolf, but Dorian’s hand snapped out to grab his arm, pulling him away again. It wasn’t safe. Kian was fragile. He needed to rest.
Ripping his arm out of Dorian’s grasp, Kian glared at him. “Go back to your office. You’ve done enough for one day.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Kian waited for supernatural resources to show up after the incident with Kyle, the werewolf from the marketing department who was dead set on getting Morgan’s information. Kian hadn’t been overly worried about his threatening behavior, he could protect himself, but Dorian came out of nowhere, and it took serious negotiation to get him to walk away.
The last time Dorian lost control in the office, he reported it immediately to SR. Kian expected the same thing that morning. It would’ve been annoying, but not impossible to deal with. Kyle had slunk off without a word, his head down, and didn’t say a word about Dorian’s aggression. He knew he was in the wrong for lunging at a temp. Kian didn’t think that warranted Dorian’s behavior, but he got the feeling the werewolf wouldn’t say a word about it. But after an hour, it seemed like Dorian wasn’t willing to report it either. He stayed in his office with the door shut for the rest of the morning.
He thought about checking in, but something told him that wouldn’t go over well. Dorian looked ready to rip someone’s head off, and he probably wasn’t happy that Kian made him walk away. It’d been a week without incidents, so Kian hadmistakenly thought things were getting better, but apparently not. It was better to let Dorian cool off first.
With a heavy sigh, Kian pulled out his phone, scrolling through his messages. He straightened with a frown when he noticed Morgan had messaged him. Surely the stupid wolf wasn’t harassing him, right? Kian had never given the man any of Morgan’s information, and he was the only one with access to things like that. The temps went through him, not through SR.
Pulling up the message, he scanned it, and his shoulders slumped in relief. Morgan wasn’t messaging about Kyle. He was letting Kian know he was finally available to meet with Dorian. Between Morgan’s temp job taking up a lot of his time, and Kian ending up on bedrest, it still hadn’t happened yet. He got the feeling some of that was apprehension on Morgan’s part from the last interaction he’d had with Dorian, so he’d sent a few encouraging messages, but he hadn’t heard back until now.
His mind flicked to Dorian, and he grimaced. He’d hoped Dorian would be more stable before he met with Morgan. Would it be better to wait until they figured out what was going on with him?
The desk phone rang before he could decide, and he picked it up on the second ring. “Spellbound Corps, Medical Division, Kian speaking. How can I help you?”
“Good morning, Kian,” Clarita, the front desk receptionist, greeted evenly. “I’ve got a delivery here for you. Should I have an intern bring it up, or would you like to come get it yourself?”
Pursing his lips, he considered his options. He preferred to get things himself, since he didn’t like people doing his work for him, but he also didn’t like being away from the phone if he could help it. Dorian would be stuck answering the calls if he wasn’t around, and after the already rough morning, he didn’t think it’d be a good idea to put him in that position.
“An intern, please. I don’t want to leave my phone unattended.”
She hummed in agreement. “I know how you feel. I’ll have an intern come up with it soon.”
“Thanks, Clarita.”
