Chapter 191

Chapter 191
Noah's POV

My heart hammered against my ribs as I watched Lydia's face crinkle with laughter. The words I'd just spoken—asking her to be my girlfriend—hung in the air between us. Blood rushed to my face, and I suddenly felt every bit the awkward teenager I hadn't been in over a decade.

"What's funny about that?" I managed to ask, my confidence crumbling like sand.

I'd rehearsed this moment a dozen times in my head. Since arriving at Moonshade Pack as their doctor, I'd found myself increasingly drawn to Lydia—her strength, her directness, the way her eyes held secrets of a world I'd only studied in textbooks. Each day spent treating pack members and watching her train warriors had only deepened my fascination with her. When I saw her injured on the battlefield, something had snapped inside me. The thought of losing her before I'd even had a chance...

Now here she was, laughing at my confession.

The antiseptic smell of the medical room seemed to intensify as silence stretched between us. Outside, the sounds of post-battle organization continued—orders being shouted, the wounded being sorted, allies and enemies separated. But in here, it was just us, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, and my rapidly sinking heart.

Lydia's laughter faded as she noticed my expression. "Oh, Noah," she said, her eyes softening. "I'm not laughing at you. It's just—'girlfriend'?" She tested the word like it was some exotic food. "Wolves don't have 'girlfriends' or 'boyfriends.' We have potential mates, or marking prospects."

My medical brain immediately catalogued this cultural difference while relief flooded through me. Not rejection—just a translation error.

"The term just sounds so... human," she continued, leaning closer. "So innocent. Like we're going to hold hands at the movies and share milkshakes."

I wiped my sweaty palms against my lab coat, my fingers instinctively fiddling with a nearby roll of gauze. "So what would you call it, then? What we could be?"

Lydia's smile turned predatory in a way that sent an electric current down my spine. Without warning, she leaned forward and nuzzled her face against my neck, inhaling deeply.

The warm brush of her skin against mine made my pulse skyrocket. A rush of heat spread through my body, settling uncomfortably below my belt. I was shocked by my own intense physical response—as a doctor, I understood the biological reactions perfectly, but experiencing them firsthand with Lydia was something my medical textbooks hadn't prepared me for.

"There," she said, pulling back with satisfaction. "I've scent-marked you. Now other wolves will know you're... spoken for."

"That's... that's how wolves accept?" I stammered, my doctor's brain firing rapidly, analyzing the biological significance of the gesture while the rest of me was still processing the intimacy of it.

"It's a temporary claim," she explained, eyes gleaming with mischief. "If this were permanent, there'd be teeth involved."

"Teeth?" I swallowed hard.

Lydia's laugh was musical this time, without mockery. "We'll get to that. Eventually."

She hopped down from the examination table with unexpected agility, making me frown. For someone who'd been carried in with a supposedly serious injury, she moved with remarkable ease. My medical instincts kicked in, and I reached toward her side.

"Your wound—"

With a smirk, Lydia lifted the edge of her shirt, revealing smooth skin with only the faintest pink line where the "serious injury" had been. "About that..." she said, not looking remotely apologetic. "I may have exaggerated a bit."

"You faked being injured?" I asked, incredulous.

"I wanted your attention," she said simply, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. "Want to examine me more thoroughly, Dr. Boyfriend?" She took my hand and placed it on her perfectly healed side. "See? All better."

My face burned hotter than any fever I'd ever treated. I pulled my hand back, trying to reclaim some professional dignity. "There are... there are actual injured people who need attention. I should—"

"Go help them?" she finished, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "So noble. That's why I like you," she said, her voice softening. "Not just physically—though my wolf has been drawn to your scent since my eighteenth birthday. That's when I first sensed you might be my fated mate. But then I was starting to like who you are as a person, Noah. Your heart. That's new for me."

I froze, my hand halfway to the door handle. "I—I don't know what to say," I admitted, my voice unsteady. "I'm human. Can humans even be fated mates to werewolves?"

A mix of emotions swirled through me: disbelief, scientific curiosity, and beneath it all, an unexpected sense of belonging I'd never felt before. Something about her words resonated with me on a level I couldn't explain—like a puzzle piece clicking into place that I hadn't known was missing.

Lydia tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with that predatory confidence I was beginning to find irresistible. "Rare, but not impossible," she said, crossing the room to stand before me again. "A soul doesn't care what skin it wears. Human, wolf, doesn't matter to the bond." She reached up and traced a finger along my jawline.

That simple touch sent an electric current straight through my body, making my pants grow uncomfortably tight. My breath caught as blood rushed downward, creating a physical reaction I couldn't hide or control. I shifted my weight awkwardly, trying to angle my body away from her, mortified that my body was betraying me so completely. I was a doctor, for heaven's sake—I dealt with anatomy every day—yet here I was, reacting like a teenager at the slightest touch.

"I should—I really need to check on other patients," I stammered, backing toward the door even as every cell in my body seemed to lean toward her. The contradiction was maddening—wanting to flee from this intensity while simultaneously craving more of it.

As I turned to leave, I felt a sharp smack on my backside that made me jump. "Go get 'em, Doc," Lydia called after me.

I nearly tripped over my own feet, wondering what I'd gotten myself into.

I was so lost in thought that I almost collided with Ethan and Freya as they entered the medical wing. Ethan's arm was draped protectively around Freya's waist, though he was clearly the more injured of the two.

"Alpha Blackwood," I said, immediately shifting into professional mode. "Those claw marks need cleaning. The depth suggests possible muscle damage, and given the opponent was Kassak, we should check for any toxins."

Ethan nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Fletcher. For everything you've done today."

Freya's eyes darted past me to where Lydia was unabashedly watching our interaction. A knowing smile crossed her face, but she said nothing.

"We're planning to hold the Luna ceremony in two weeks," Ethan continued. "Once the wounded are stabilized."

"Luna ceremony?" I asked, curiosity piqued.

Freya explained, "It's the official recognition of my position as Luna. We never had the chance before... with everything that happened."