CLAIMED - Fated to Two-Chapter 42: Budding Romance

Andrea’s last patient of the day comes in: a pale, weak-looking boy.

"Torrin, this is Dan and his mother, Winnie. He’s been my patient for two months now," Andrea says, her smile tinged with sadness.

The mother smiles the same way. "My son has been battling leukemia for years. No doctor has been able to improve his health except Dr. Andrea. That’s why we keep coming back here. Hopefully, soon he’ll be healthy again."

"I’m not a doctor. Just a healer," Andrea sheepishly corrects her.

"She’s awesome," I add with pride. "She did what was impossible for me. I’m sure she’ll do miracles for your son too." 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

Andrea blushes, and the boy notices.

"Is he your mate, Ms. Andrea?" he asks.

"Oh no, we’re... uhm... he was my patient," Andrea replies frantically.

Dan turns to me. "Sir, you two look good together. I hope you make her happy. She deserves it."

His mother taps his shoulder to stop him, then offers us an apologetic look. And I respond with just an awkward nod.

Soon, Andrea begins reviewing Dan’s medical records on her computer. "All good! The tests we did the other day show you’re ready for chemotherapy." She hands Winnie a calling card. "Dr. Osten is a friend of mine. He’ll take care of Dan’s treatment. He agreed to give you a discount."

"But I don’t want anyone else healing me," Dan protests.

Andrea gently holds his small hand. "As much as I’d like to do the chemo myself, I can’t. I don’t have the machines or the equipment."

Winnie hesitates. "Is it okay if we postpone the chemotherapy? Our savings may not be enough to cover the full bill."

"You can’t. Postponing it could worsen Dan’s condition," Andrea says, reaching into her desk drawer and pulling out an envelope. "Here. It’s not much, but it’ll help with the expenses. I’ll try to earn more and give it all to you. I’ll also talk to Dr. Osten to allow you a considerate payment terms."

Winnie tearfully accepts the envelope, murmuring "thank you" over and over.

The sight warms my heart. In a world full of cruelty and negativity, Andrea stands as a beacon of kindness and selflessness. Dan is right: she deserves happiness.

After Dan and his mother leave, Andrea closes the clinic. On our way back to her house, we pass a lush garden. So I pick a red tulip and offer it to her.

She smiles and brings it to her nose. "Do you know what this flower means?"

"I don’t know anything about flowers. But it’s beautiful, and so are you, inside and out," I reply.

"Red tulips symbolize perfect love... or a declaration of love," she explains.

Awkwardness settles between us.

Then,...

She holds the tulip out to me. "Now that you know what it means, would you take it if I give it back to you?"

I don’t budge, unsure what she’s implying.

"I’m declaring my love for you," she says. "Ever since you took your first breath after dying, I’ve felt a special bond with you. If you don’t feel the same way, maybe you could try?"

When I don’t respond, she lowers the flower and asks, "Do I look desperate?"

"N-No," I say.

Her smile returns as she offers the tulip to me again. "It’s okay. If you don’t accept it, I’ll understand. I won’t bother you again about the bond I’m feeling."

Dan’s small voice echoes in my mind: She deserves to be happy.

Meanwhile, my wolf growls furiously inside me as I take the tulip from her hand.

"Really? You’re gonna try?" she asks, eyes wide with surprised joy.

"You’re not difficult to fall in love with," I reply. "I’ll try to make you happy. I promise."

She giggles and hugs me tightly, so I hug her back. My arms around her are a little loose to avoid hurting her.

As we reach the street where her house is, we’re forced to stop. Cloaked figures surround Harry near the porch.

Instinctively, I pull Andrea into an empty, filthy alley. Pressing myself against the brick wall, I peek around the corner, ready to move the moment they do anything threatening.

"Why are we hiding?" Andrea asks.

"Those figures in cloaks, I have a feeling they’re the ones who killed me. If they find out I’m still alive, and that you and your father helped me, they’ll put you in danger too. And I can’t allow that," I answer.

Fear creeps across Andrea’s face. "I need to get to papa and help him in case they attack."

"I can’t let you do that," I snap. "Stay here. I’ll go instead."

I push aside my own fear and let the desire to protect Harry guide me.

As I near the porch, Harry and the cloaked figures turn toward me. The moment I glimpse their light-colored hair and the Frostveil sigil embroidered on their cloaks, I wolf out and lunge.

"Harry! Get inside!" I yell.

To my surprise, none of the Frostveil werewolves wolf out to defend themselves. A couple of them slump to the ground as I ram through them.

"Alpha Torrin! It’s us! It’s me, Eric! We were sent here by Harleigh!" one of them shouts.

"Alpha?" Harry echoes, his wrinkled brow furrowed. "You’re the dead Alpha of the Frostveil Pack I heard about?"

This place is far from modern civilization. They have electricity, but no TV or internet. Newspapers and magazines are practically nonexistent. That’s why they didn’t recognize me, even when I told them my name.

"Tell your fake Alpha and his lapdogs never to come back here," I growl. "He’ll never find me after tonight. Don’t disturb this place again!"

Another man, around his fifties, steps forward. "You’re still suffering from memory loss, I suppose. Allow me to reintroduce myself. I’m Samuel Whitmore, a Beta and member of our pack’s council since your late father’s time. Atticus is dead. Damian and their stooges were arrested. The pack is currently led by Harleigh. She, and all of us, are waiting for you to return and help her lead."

I smirk, skeptical. "Then what? Have her kill me so there’s no threat to her leadership? Tell her she can have the pack all to herself. I won’t go back. I won’t lead."

Gasps of disbelief follow, along with pained expressions from the Frostveil werewolves.

"You need treatment. Until your memories return, your will and desire to lead won’t return either," Samuel insists.

When they begin closing in, I lunge again. This time, they wolf out, baring their canines at me.

I knew it! They’re pretending to care about me and the pack, but they’re really here to try to kill me again!

"I won’t let you take him unless he agrees!" Harry roars, shifting into his wolf too.

"No! Stay back!" I hiss.

My fear intensifies when a golden-brown wolf: Andrea, rushes toward us, ready to fight too.

"Don’t hurt them," I growl. "It’s me you want, so focus only on me!"

"Don’t wanna hurt you, Alpha. Just come back with us peacefully," one of them pleads.

Suddenly,...

Every torture I endured at the hands of their kin crashes over me, making my body tremble in both agony and fury.

Without hesitation, I lunge at them once again more fiercer than the last time. They fight back. While Harry manages to hold his ground, Andrea is thrown to the air, forcing me to abandon my opponent.

"Andrea!"

But just before I reach her, a sharp pain shoots through my shoulder.

Eric, who’s still in his human form, holds a tranquilizer gun, his expression filled with regret. "I’d rather do this than hurt you."

Dizziness hits me hard. My vision blurs, and I can’t keep myself upright.

"Torrin!"

Andrea’s worried voice is the last thing I hear before everything fades into black and numbness.

.

.

.

When consciousness finally returns, instant panic crawls through me. I brace myself for the dungeon, but to my surprise, I’m back in my borrowed bedroom, lying on the bed, while Eric sits on the couch, watching me like a hawk.

"Where’s Andrea? And Harry?" I demand.

"They’re..."

Before he can finish, I bolt out of the room and rush down the stairs.

To my immense relief, I find them in the living area, sporting only minor cuts and bruises. The Frostveil werewolves are with them, speaking calmly. Though Andrea and Harry remain skeptical, the fear in their eyes from earlier is gone.

"Leave," I order sharply. "You’ve caused enough trouble here already. And no matter what you do, I won’t..."

"You must come back with us," a voice, confusingly both familiar and foreign at the same time, interrupts.

Then,...

The woman in my memories, the one with wavy dark hair, a beautiful face, and large blue eyes steps inside through the wide open door.

My wolf howls in delight, his features brightening. But I don’t share his reaction. If anything, anger surges through me at her audacity to show herself to me after letting me die.

As she approaches, tears glisten in her eyes. She reaches for my face, and I instinctively step back.

"You must be the Harleigh these intruders are talking about," I say.

She nods. "Yes, it’s me. I’m glad to see you again, my love."