Chapter 3
803words
One night, a group of wasted trust-fund brats stormed in with a purebred Persian cat, raising hell about having to wait their turn like everyone else.
"Do you have any idea who my father is? You expect ME to wait?" the ringleader shouted, jabbing his finger at a nurse who was gently comforting a whimpering puppy.
I stepped in to defuse things but got shoved hard for my trouble. If Cael hadn't caught me, I'd have slammed straight into the glass medicine cabinet.
Cael had shown up to walk me home after my shift.
After steadying me, he approached the young man with measured steps.
Despite being leaner than the rich kid and dressed in thrift-store clothes, when Cael fixed those cold, dead eyes on the scene, the entire waiting room fell instantly silent.
"You're cutting the line?" Cael's voice was quiet but carried the unmistakable weight of someone used to being obeyed.
The rich kid squirmed under that gaze but, fueled by liquid courage, puffed up his chest: "What if I am? Who the hell are you supposed to be?"
"I'm merely pointing out," Cael's gaze flicked to the agitated Persian in the boy's arms, "that your cat—heterochromatic eyes, long coat, homozygous gene carrier—has congenital cardiac insufficiency."
"Should your delay cause stress-induced cardiac arrest, the Municipal Pet Protection Act, Section 4.3, would not only absolve this facility of liability but entitle them to compensation for business disruption and emotional damages. And,"
He offered the thinnest of smiles that never touched his eyes, "As it happens, I specialize in precisely such litigation."
His flawless delivery of legal jargon and medical terminology left the young man visibly deflating with each word.
The rich kid stared into those all-seeing eyes for a moment before closing his mouth and slinking to the back of the line without another word.
Crisis defused.
I stared at Cael, eyes wide with admiration. "Galen, that was incredible! Were you actually a lawyer in your past life?"
"I don't recall," Cael replied dismissively, already turning to help gather my belongings.
"You sure didn't sound like someone with amnesia just now," I teased, poking his back playfully. "More like… a seasoned corporate shark."
Cael's posture stiffened for just a fraction of a second.
He didn't turn around, but the corners of his mouth curved upward in a small, unconscious smile.
It's always the small, unguarded moments that reveal the most truth.
One day, Cael sliced his finger while chopping vegetables. I rushed over with the first-aid kit, only to witness the deep cut closing before my eyes.
"Your hand…" I stammered, pointing at the rapidly healing wound.
"Doctors once told me I have unusual healing capabilities," Cael said smoothly, withdrawing his hand from view.
I wasn't buying it, but I didn't push.
But another discovery shattered my ability to keep pretending.
That day I finished my shift early, planning to surprise Cael. Walking past an exclusive members-only café downtown, I spotted a familiar figure through the massive windows.
It was Cael, deep in conversation with a woman.
The woman was devastatingly beautiful in a predatory way—cascading golden curls, blood-red lips, and a black dress that screamed old money and danger.
She radiated power and mystery so intensely that passersby instinctively averted their eyes.
Her name was Lilith—the city's most powerful witch and an ancient ally to the Cael bloodline.
I assumed she was just some aristocrat's daughter.
I watched as Lilith lifted her cup with elegant fingers, saying something that brought a ghost of a smile to her perfect lips.
Though Cael's face remained impassive, his body language showed a comfort level I'd never witnessed before.
They shared an unspoken language that excluded everyone else in the world.
Maybe I'd been fooling myself all along. My chest tightened with an unfamiliar ache—something bitter and sharp that I refused to name as jealousy.
Back home that evening, I kept my tone deliberately light: "Did you go somewhere today, Galen?"
"Just went for a walk. Thought it might jog my memory." Cael didn't look up from his book.
"Run into anyone you know?" I pressed, watching his face carefully.
Cael's fingers paused mid-page-turn. "I met someone who might help with my memory issues," he finally said.
His carefully vague answer felt like a knife twisting in my gut.
For the first time, I truly understood that this man I'd rescued belonged to a world completely separate from mine.
And in that world were women like Lilith—women who understood him in ways I never could.
And what about me?
Just a struggling werewolf vet tech, counting pennies until payday.
Between us stretched a gulf I could never hope to cross.
