Chapter 2

The next morning at six-thirty, Olivia's call came right on time.

"Alexander, I can't train today. I seriously can't even lift my back."

Alexander’s voice held a trace of helpless indulgence. "Olivia, you're not a pup anymore. It's just a mild cramp."

Olivia whimpered on the other end. "Would it kill you to be nice to me?"

He went silent for two seconds, his tone softening. "Fine. I’ll head over after my morning rounds at the clinic. I’ll bring a special ointment."

Olivia immediately pushed further. "After that, you have to buy me breakfast and help me stretch."

Alexander let out a low chuckle. "Why don't you just ask me to move in and be your personal healer?"

"I would! But do you dare? Would your precious mate even allow it?"

The bathroom door was slightly open. I heard every single word.

He hung up, turned around, and froze when he saw me standing there.

"She’s just stressed before the Hunt," he said quickly.

My face remained blank. "You're very attentive."

"Maybe you should request a transfer to be the dedicated medic for her squad."

He frowned. "Evelyn."

A sudden, violent wave of pain surged from deep within my belly.

I gripped the doorframe, my voice hoarse. "Move."

I pushed past him into the bathroom, collapsing by the toilet, dry-heaving. Nothing came up, but cold sweat broke out across my forehead.

Alexander stood at the doorway. He didn't come closer. He just watched me with a frown.

"What's wrong now?"

I gasped for air. "My stomach... it hurts."

He looked at my pale face, his voice flat.

"Your emotions have been all over the place lately. Of course your body is reacting. Just stop overthinking, and you’ll feel better."

I froze, my fingers gripping the edge of the sink tightly.

He didn't seem to notice. He grabbed a tissue to wipe the doorknob.

"You never say anything when you're actually sick. You only act pitiful when you want attention. It's exhausting, Evelyn."

He checked his watch.

"I have to treat Olivia this morning, and there's a joint seminar this afternoon. I can't stay."

"There are painkillers in the cabinet. Take two and rest."

Before leaving, he added, "Turn on the exhaust fan when you're done. Don't leave a smell for others."

The moment the door slammed shut, another spasm hit me. I couldn't even stand up.

A metallic taste rose in my throat.

I leaned against the wall for a long time, feeling a deep sense of irony.

He had all the patience in the world to find the perfect angle for Olivia's spine, but he found my pain "exhausting" and "pitiful."

It turned out his medical compassion was highly selective.

He grabbed his bag and left without looking back.

I wiped my face, ordered a cab, and drove myself to the Healing Center.