Irina's POV
I rose from my seat and pressed my fingertips against Wilson's wrist, focusing intently on reading his pulse. His eyes narrowed as he watched me, that penetrating stare never wavering.
His pulse felt sluggish and buried deep—classic signs of blocked energy and weak constitution. "Open your mouth," I commanded, tilting his chin upward. My finger grazed his Adam's apple by accident, though I kept my expression neutral.
Wilson complied without hesitation, parting his lips while the corners of his eyes crinkled as he studied my face. My gaze stayed clinical and razor-sharp, purely professional.
I leaned closer to examine his tongue coating, my lips tightening in concentration. My breath almost brushed against his skin. Something flickered in his throat, like he was fighting back a reaction.
I stayed focused on my examination, ignoring whatever was happening with him.
