Chapter 190

Chapter 190
Lydia's POV

I watched Noah's face drain of color the moment he spotted the crimson stain spreading across my side. In all the post-battle chaos—warriors securing prisoners, medics tending to the wounded—his eyes locked solely on me. Without hesitation, he rushed forward, medical bag bouncing against his hip.

"I need to get her to the medical bay now!" Noah's voice carried an authority that surprised even me. Before I could object, he scooped me into his arms with unexpected strength, cradling me against his chest.

I allowed my head to loll against his shoulder, continuing my performance of injury. I could feel the curious stares of the warriors—they'd never seen their combat instructor appear so vulnerable. The fierce Lydia who barked orders and took down opponents twice her size was now being carried like a fragile doll. Perfect.

"Make way!" Noah commanded, and the crowd parted before us.

Warriors who had witnessed me train recruits until they collapsed from exhaustion now watched with wide eyes as I nestled against Noah's chest. Some exchanged knowing glances, others looked simply bewildered. None dared question the human doctor's urgency. Their shock at seeing me appear weak was almost amusing.

As Noah strode purposefully toward the manor's medical wing, I settled comfortably in his arms. His heartbeat thundered against my ear—quick and anxious. I could smell his concern—a sharp, acrid note cutting through his usual scent of antiseptic and pine. My wolf, Maya, stirred inside me, purring with satisfaction at being held by this potential mate.

Strong enough to carry us, Maya observed within my mind. Smart. Caring. Protective.

I inhaled deeply, drawing in Noah's unique human scent. Unlike the musky, earthy smell of werewolves, Noah carried something distinctly different—something clean and untamed by pack hierarchy. Without thinking, I pressed my face closer to his neck, where his scent was strongest.

Maya took control before I could stop myself. My tongue darted out, dragging a warm, wet path along the pulsing vein in Noah's neck.

Noah froze mid-stride, his body suddenly rigid against mine. "Lydia?" His voice cracked with confusion. "What are you doing?"

My mind raced for an explanation. "It's... a wolf thing," I improvised quickly. "When we're in severe pain, our wolves sometimes take over. Licking helps cool the body and reduce pain signals." I paused, gauging his reaction. "Maya was just trying to make the pain stop. I'm sorry she got your neck instead of my wound."

Noah's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "I've never read about that in any of the werewolf physiology texts."

"It's instinctual," I continued smoothly. "Not all wolf behaviors make it into your human medical journals, Doctor."

Though skepticism flashed across his face, Noah nodded and resumed walking. "We're almost there."

The medical wing was mercifully empty—most of the serious injuries were still being assessed on the battlefield. Noah gently lowered me onto an examination table, immediately switching to professional mode. His hands moved with practiced efficiency as he gathered supplies.

"I need to see the wound," he said, voice steady despite the flush still coloring his cheeks.

I bit my lip, wincing theatrically as I lifted the edge of my shirt, exposing my midriff and the shallow cut I'd inflicted on myself. The wound was barely more than a scratch, already beginning to heal with my werewolf biology.

Noah's brow furrowed as he examined the injury. "This is... surprisingly superficial," he observed, looking confused. "Your werewolf healing is already taking care of it. I don't even need to stitch it."

"It feels worse than it looks," I gasped, clutching my side and lifting my shirt higher, deliberately revealing the black lace edge of my bra. "The pain comes in waves."

Noah's eyes widened, darting to my exposed skin before he hastily averted his gaze. The color in his cheeks deepened to a rich crimson. "I, uh—I should still clean it properly."

I watched with amusement as Noah fumbled with cotton swabs, his hands suddenly less steady than before. I didn't miss how his eyes kept sneaking glances at my exposed skin, or how his breathing had changed—quicker, shallower. Most telling was the sudden tightness in his jeans that he was clearly trying to hide by angling his body away from me.

So innocent for someone who studies our bodies, I thought with satisfaction. Maya rumbled in agreement, finding his reactions endearing. How strange that a man of science who'd spent years studying werewolf physiology could be so flustered by a bit of skin and lace.

"The pain is getting worse," I murmured, my voice pitched low. "Do you have something for it?"

Noah nodded, turning to his cabinet. "I have a special salve for werewolves. It won't interfere with your natural healing."

He returned with a small jar and began applying the cool gel to my skin. His fingers trembled slightly against my warm flesh, and I deliberately let out a soft moan—a sound hovering in that delicious space between pain and pleasure.

Noah's hand jerked back as if burned. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," I breathed, looking directly into his eyes. "It felt... good."

Noah quickly capped the jar, wiping his hands on a towel. "The salve should help with any discomfort. You should be fully healed by tomorrow morning." He turned away, busying himself with organizing supplies that were already perfectly arranged. "If that's all, I should check on the other wounded—"

"Is that how you handle everything in life, Dr. Fletcher?" My voice cut through his retreat. "Running away when things get personal?"

Noah froze, his back to me. I watched his shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath before he turned to face me again.

"I'm not running away," he said quietly, his eyes meeting mine with newfound determination. "I'm trying to be professional, which is difficult when I've wanted to ask you out since the day I arrived." He took a step closer. "I know human-werewolf relationships have their challenges, but I can't pretend I'm not attracted to you, Lydia. I'd like you to be my girlfriend, if you're willing."

I couldn't help the burst of laughter that escaped my lips. "Girlfriend?" The human term sounded so quaint, so innocent compared to what wolves called their mates.

"What's funny about that?" Noah asked, his confidence faltering.