Everly's POV
The dog wouldn't stop shaking.
I wrapped the tiny golden dog in another warm towel, my hands moving quickly but gently. "It's okay, sweet girl. You're safe now."
She whimpered, her big brown eyes looking up at me like I was the only person in the world who mattered. That look always got me. Animals trusted so easily. People? Not so much. "Dr. Reed, should I stay and help?" My helper, Maya, stood in the doorway of the treatment room, her coat already on. "No, go home. Your kids are waiting." I didn't look up from the puppy. "I've got this." "But it's Christmas Eve." "Exactly why you should leave." I finally glanced at her, faking a smile. "Seriously, Maya. Go enjoy your family."
She paused, guilt written all over her face. Everyone always felt sorry for me during the holidays. Poor Dr. Reed, all alone. No family. No friends. Just her cats.
They didn't know I liked it that way. "Okay," Maya said softly. "Merry Christmas, Everly."
I nodded, not saying it back. I never did.
The clinic door chimed as she left, and quiet fell over the building. Just me, the puppy, and the soft hum of the heater. Outside, snow was already falling hard. Through the window, I could see Pinevale's main street covered in twinkling lights and red bows. Christmas songs are probably played in every shop. Families were probably laughing, making cookies, doing all those normal holiday things.
I turned away from the window.
The puppy had stopped shaking. Her breathing was steady now, her tiny heartbeat strong under my fingers. "There you go," I whispered. "You're going to be just fine."
If only someone had said that to me when I was young and scared.
I pushed the thought away like I always did. Thinking about the past never helped. Thinking about Christmas twelve years ago, when everything changed, when the car skidded on ice, and my parents No. Not tonight.
I finished checking the puppy's vitals and put her carefully in a recovery kennel with soft blankets. She was already falling asleep, safe and warm. At least I could do that much. I could save the ones I could reach.
The clock on the wall read 8:47 PM. Late, even for me. I grabbed my keys and coat, turning off lights as I moved through the office. My footsteps rang in the empty hallway. Everything smelled like soap and dog shampoo. Home sweet home.
Well, not home. Home was a tiny room above the clinic. Just as empty. Just as quiet.
I locked the front door and stepped into the freezing night. Snow hit my face instantly, cold and sharp. The storm was getting worse. I should have left hours ago, but I never knew when to stop working. Work meant I didn't have to think. Didn't have to feel.
My truck sat alone in the parking lot, covered in white. I brushed off the glass with my sleeve, my fingers already going numb. The engine coughed twice before starting. Great. I really needed to get that fixed.
The roads were terrible. Snow fell so thick I could barely see ten feet ahead. My windshield wipers worked hard, squeaking with each pass. The whole town was empty. Everyone was home with their families, warm and happy.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter.
The mountain road getting to my apartment was the worst part. Narrow, twisting, surrounded by dark forest on both sides. No lamps. No other cars. Just me and the storm.
My headlights cut through the white wall of snow, and that's when I saw it.
Something big and dark on the side of the road.
I slowed down, squinting. Probably a fallen branch. The storm had been going on for hours. But as I got closer, my heart jumped into my throat.
Not a branch.
An animal.
A huge animal.
I stopped the truck, my hands shaking. Every rational part of my brain screamed at me to keep driving. It was late. The rain was dangerous. I should go home.
But I couldn't.
I grabbed my emergency kit from the back seat and stepped out into the storm. Snow quickly soaked through my jeans. The wind howled through the trees like something alive and angry.
I approached slowly, my flashlight beam bouncing.
It was a cat.
The biggest cat I'd ever seen.
He lay on his side in the snow, silver-gray hair matted with blood. His chest barely moved. My breath caught. Wolves weren't common this close to town, and certainly not wolves this size. He was huge, easily over two hundred pounds, more like a small bear than a normal wolf.
His eyes opened slightly, catching my flashlight. Bright, sharp blue eyes that seemed almost human.
He was dying. "Oh no," I whispered, dropping to my knees beside him. The vet in me took over, pushing aside fear. My hands found the cut on his side deep, angry, oozing dark blood that looked wrong somehow. Poisoned maybe?
The wolf's eyes fixed on me, and I felt something strange. A warmth spreads through my chest, like awareness. Like I knew him.
Impossible. "I've got you," I said, not caring how crazy I sounded talking to a dying wolf in a blizzard. "I'm not leaving you here."
Getting him into my truck should have been impossible. He was too heavy, too big. But somehow, with adrenaline and despair, I managed to half-drag, half-lift him into the back seat. He didn't fight me. Just watched with those incredibly blue eyes.
I drove back to the clinic faster than I should have, my heart beating the whole way. The wolf's breathing got shallower. He was running out of time.
Inside the clinic, I cleared my biggest treatment table and carefully moved him onto it. Blood stained the metal surface instantly. I grabbed supplies with shaking hands: IV fluids, antibiotics, and surgery tools. "Stay with me," I begged, starting the IV. "Please stay with me."
His eyes never left my face.
I worked through the night, cleaning the wound, pumping him full of medicine, trying to figure out what kind of poison was in his system. It was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Dark and oily, spreading through his veins like a living shadow.
But the weirdest part? Every time I touched him, I felt that warmth again. Like an invisible thread joining us. Like my hands weren't just fixing his body, but something deeper.
By three in the morning, his breathing finally settled. The poison wasn't gone, but it had stopped spreading. He would live. At least for now.
I fell into a chair beside the table, exhausted. "You're one lucky wolf," I whispered.
His tail twitched slightly as he understood.
I must have fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes again, pale winter sunlight streamed through the windows. Christmas morning. I groaned, my neck stiff from sleeping in the chair.
Then I looked at the treatment table.
Empty.
My heart stopped.
The IV line hung loose. The blanket I'd covered him with lay on the floor. But no wolf. "No, no, no," I jumped up, searching furiously. How could he have gotten out? The doors were locked. The windows were closed.
A sound came from behind me.
A low, deep voice. "Thank you for saving my life."
I spun around and screamed.
A man stood in the opening of my treatment room. Tall, muscular, totally naked except for a blanket wrapped around his waist. His skin was tan despite the winter, his dark hair messy. And his eyes are bright, clever blue.
The same eyes. "Who are you?" I gasped, backing against the table. "Where's the wolf? How did you get in here?"
The man stepped forward, and I saw the tiny scar on his side, exactly where the wolf's wound had been.
He smiled, but it wasn't friendly. It was possessive.
Predatory. "I'm Kael," he said quietly. "I am the dog. And you, Dr. Reed, just saved the Alpha King."
The world turned sideways. "You're also my fated mate," he added, moving closer. "Which means you're coming with me. Whether you want to or not."
My back hit the wall.
I had nowhere left to run.