Kaelan submitted to the doctor's care with barely concealed impatience. Anya watched the procedure, fascinated by the Alpha's impatience with pain. He healed fast, but the doctor still had to stitch several deep gashes, evidence of the brutal fight.
Zara stood guard near the door, her icy gaze never leaving Anya.
"The Mate Bond seems stable," the human doctor muttered to Kaelan, trying to avoid Anya's eyes. "But she's highly stressed. Her heart rate is erratic."
"The stress is intentional," Kaelan replied, his voice a low, rough rumble.
The doctor sighed. "Stress is bad for the bond, Alpha. It interferes with the natural primal acceptance. I recommend frequent, gentle physical contact. It signals security to the Mate's primitive brain."
Anya stiffened, horrified. Gentle physical contact? Never.
Zara grinned, clearly enjoying Anya's distress.
Kaelan looked at Anya, a predatory gleam in his eye, and dismissed the doctor. As the door sealed, Kaelan stepped over to the bed, his scent overwhelming.
"You heard the professional, Mate," he murmured, his presence dominating the space. "It seems my healing is now contingent on your comfort."
He reached out, his large hand resting heavily on her silk-clad thigh. The contact was shocking, and a wave of involuntary heat, fueled by the bond, rushed through Anya.
"Don't," she managed, her voice shaking.
"I won't break the contract," he whispered, his eyes dark. "But I will ensure its stability."