Page 85 of Mate
I sniffle. “I’m not sure. Could you please forget that you know? I’d rather not talk about— ”
“That’s no longer an option.” His tone is kind but steel boned. “I’m your Alpha. And I need you to be honest with me.”
I take a deep, shuddering breath. Gather myself. “Dr. Henshaw has my labs. All my data. He has a lot of information at his disposal, and he was able to reconstruct the progression of my condition. I don’t know how much of this is due to me being a hybrid, but if it is, and if something similar were to happen to Ana . . . Dr. Henshaw is under instructions to inform Lowe, after . . .afterward. I hope it’ll help, and— ”
“After what, Serena?”
“— I’m not precious about that stuff. It’s more that I don’t want them to freak out or feel like they have to— ”
“After. What,” he repeats. He’s not on the stool anymore. Instead, his palms brace both sides of my bare thighs, and he leans into me. Close enough that his scent becomes my entire universe. Close enough for me to see little freckles on his skin, to count the scars that crisscross all over his torso. He looks down, inexorable, eyes blacker than black. “Say it. After what?”
I have to. Out loud. For the very first time. I have no choice but to make this real. “After I die.”
The second the words are out, hanging heavy in the air between us, Koen . . . smiles.
He bends further, and there isn’t a single trace of doubt on his face. He’s an immovable objectandan unstoppable force. And he says, slowly, “If you think I’m going to let you die, Serena, you know fuck all.”
DR. SEM CAINE’S OFFICE IS AT THE OUTSKIRTS OF THE DEN. HEchecks my vitals and listens to a detailed recap of last night’s episode, but what he spends most of his time on is the records Dr. Henshaw sent over.
Koen waits by the door, cross-armed and dark-clouded. He dispassionately informs Sem of my prognosis, commands him to refute it, kill it with fire, salt it, and then simply gazes stoically into the distance as I put my clothes back on.
It was a shared but unspoken decision, him staying for my exam. Maybe he’s afraid I’ll bolt, even though I’m here neither reluctantly nor under duress. Maybe he cannot physically stay away. All I know is that my heart is squeezed into the tightest of fists. It’s obvious what he wants to be told.
Sem glances away from his tablet to give me a warm healthcare-professional smile. “Alpha, I think it would be best if you and I could talk privately.”
“About me?” I sit back in the chair and cock my head. “That has to be a HIPAA violation.”
Sem’s brow furrows. “A what?”
“Just . . .” I shake my head. “Whatever you have to say, you can do so in front of me. I won’t make a scene.”
Sem clears his throat. “May I speak freely?”
“Yes,” I say— just as Koen does. The question, of course, was for him. And not for the rightful owner of the soon- to- be- rotting body.
“Okay. Well.” Sem draws in a steady breath. “Quite frankly, looking at the labs, I am surprised that you’re alive, Serena. Dr. Henshaw’s diagnosis and prognosis seem accurate.”
I knew it, of course, but hearing it still feels like a blade slicing me open. I can’t see Koen’s face from where I sit, but Ifeelhis displeasure beating through me. It’s so intense, I almostconsider going to him and . . . and what? Patting his back? Giving him a hug? I’m being ridiculous.
“What if this is just the way hybrids are?” Koen asks. “We have no basis for comparison.”
“Theoretically, that could be true. But her body is in obvious distress. Weight loss, nutrient deficiencies. Metabolic and cardiac stress. I wonder how she functions.”
“Not compatible with life,” I say under my breath. Sem’s frown deepens, but it’s a fascinating turn of phrase— I found it so from the very start. And I earned it. I have a right to use it, don’t I?
“What about drugs?” Koen asks, impatient.
“Dr. Henshaw was very thorough in his attempts to ease Serena’s discomfort,” Sem says softly.
In English. Although one wouldn’t be able to tell from Koen’s uncomprehending face. He steps closer and wraps a hand around my shoulders. “She’s in pain. Not eating enough. Not getting enough sleep. The fucking fevers are happening every night.”
“I can give her IVs and recommend easily digestible foods, but the cold baths are the safest way to— ”
“She’s inpain,” Koen snarls, leaning forward over Sem’s desk.
I expect the doctor to retreat or show his throat to appease his Alpha’s anger. Instead, his eyes turn hooded with sadness. “I know, Koen. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry— that’s not your job. Your fucking job is to cure ill people. Why do you have no idea how to do that?”
