Knight-in-Arms - Trust: (BWWM Interracial Paranormal Shifter Romance Part Two) by Athena Dore
Authors: Athena Dore
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~*~
The door opened. A man stood in the doorway with tousled brown hair and blue eyes.
“Hey, Xave, I brought the change of clothes you asked - Whoa, you look jolly awful” he said. There was playful amusement in his voice but Xavier didn’t have time for that.
“Where’s Cate? I’m in desperate need of some antivenom”.
The man looked down, his blue eyes fixing on the girl lying listlessly in Xavier’s arms. If he needed antivenom, that meant…
“You bit her? What a rogue”. His eyes scanned over the ripped blouse where her bra peeked through.
“Looks like the two of you were getting down to business when you turned”.
“Bastian”. Xavier’s tone was calm and quiet but laced with warning. Bastian conceded. He stepped aside and let his brother in.
“Hey, I’m not judging”, he said, a jovial glint in his eye “It happens to the best of us”.
Xavier scowled as he carried Rochelle inside.
“That’s not what happened”.
He didn’t have time for idle conversation. Rochelle was in this state because of him. He just wanted – just needed – her not to die.
They were in the half-lit waiting room of a clinic. Since it was after hours, most of the rooms were enshrouded in darkness. However, the light of one room was on. A woman with blonde hair tied back in a neat, elegant bun opened the door.
“Bring her in here” she said. She disappeared back inside. Xavier followed.
Doctor Cate Astor worked quickly. The venom was efficient at its job. The girl had a pulse for now, but like her breathing, it was erratic and the intervals were growing longer and longer. If she didn’t administer the antivenom soon, her new patient would be a new corpse.
Xavier watched in silence. The lights were like white-hot metal, searing into his forehead and without a shirt, he felt cold, despite his fever. But he was determined to make sure Rochelle would pull through. It wasn’t just from guilt. It was like he’d said the night before: he enjoyed her company. He was starting to like her. More than he should.
Doctor Astor attached Rochelle to a ventilator and switched on the machine. However, she knew the limitations of her equipment.
“We need to get her to a proper hospital” she said. Xavier thought as much. If Rochelle hadn’t needed the antivenom, he would have gone straight there.
“I’ll call an ambulance”, she continued, “and then I’ll have a look at you”.
Xavier furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“The cuts and scratches on your face”, she clarified. Xavier had forgotten about those with everything that had happened later. They seemed so trivial compared to Rochelle’s fragile life.
“Oh, and one more thing, Xave” she continued.
“Yes?”
“Put a shirt on”.
* * *
Rochelle opened her eyes. The white skirting round the ceiling featured intricately carved swirling patterns painted in gold – luxurious, unfamiliar patterns. She sat up and immediately wished she hadn’t. A massive headache crashed over her. She groaned, reaching for her temples.
“You’re awake” said a voice.
Rochelle wasn’t aware she’d even been asleep. She looked around for the person who had spoken. Like the ceiling, the room was cream with a gold trim. In the centre of the room hung a beautiful chandelier, beneath which were an armchair, sofa and chaise longue. This certainly wasn’t Kansas anymore.
The person who had spoken was sitting in the armchair. She was a woman with blonde hair tied back in a bun. She stood up and walked over to the bed, which Rochelle noticed (with a child-like delight) was a four-poster.
“I’m Doctor Cate Astor. How are you feeling?”
“Terrible” admitted Rochelle.
Doctor Astor nodded in that professionally sympathetic way so unique to doctors.
“Yes”, she said, “I would have
The door opened. A man stood in the doorway with tousled brown hair and blue eyes.
“Hey, Xave, I brought the change of clothes you asked - Whoa, you look jolly awful” he said. There was playful amusement in his voice but Xavier didn’t have time for that.
“Where’s Cate? I’m in desperate need of some antivenom”.
The man looked down, his blue eyes fixing on the girl lying listlessly in Xavier’s arms. If he needed antivenom, that meant…
“You bit her? What a rogue”. His eyes scanned over the ripped blouse where her bra peeked through.
“Looks like the two of you were getting down to business when you turned”.
“Bastian”. Xavier’s tone was calm and quiet but laced with warning. Bastian conceded. He stepped aside and let his brother in.
“Hey, I’m not judging”, he said, a jovial glint in his eye “It happens to the best of us”.
Xavier scowled as he carried Rochelle inside.
“That’s not what happened”.
He didn’t have time for idle conversation. Rochelle was in this state because of him. He just wanted – just needed – her not to die.
They were in the half-lit waiting room of a clinic. Since it was after hours, most of the rooms were enshrouded in darkness. However, the light of one room was on. A woman with blonde hair tied back in a neat, elegant bun opened the door.
“Bring her in here” she said. She disappeared back inside. Xavier followed.
Doctor Cate Astor worked quickly. The venom was efficient at its job. The girl had a pulse for now, but like her breathing, it was erratic and the intervals were growing longer and longer. If she didn’t administer the antivenom soon, her new patient would be a new corpse.
Xavier watched in silence. The lights were like white-hot metal, searing into his forehead and without a shirt, he felt cold, despite his fever. But he was determined to make sure Rochelle would pull through. It wasn’t just from guilt. It was like he’d said the night before: he enjoyed her company. He was starting to like her. More than he should.
Doctor Astor attached Rochelle to a ventilator and switched on the machine. However, she knew the limitations of her equipment.
“We need to get her to a proper hospital” she said. Xavier thought as much. If Rochelle hadn’t needed the antivenom, he would have gone straight there.
“I’ll call an ambulance”, she continued, “and then I’ll have a look at you”.
Xavier furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“The cuts and scratches on your face”, she clarified. Xavier had forgotten about those with everything that had happened later. They seemed so trivial compared to Rochelle’s fragile life.
“Oh, and one more thing, Xave” she continued.
“Yes?”
“Put a shirt on”.
* * *
Rochelle opened her eyes. The white skirting round the ceiling featured intricately carved swirling patterns painted in gold – luxurious, unfamiliar patterns. She sat up and immediately wished she hadn’t. A massive headache crashed over her. She groaned, reaching for her temples.
“You’re awake” said a voice.
Rochelle wasn’t aware she’d even been asleep. She looked around for the person who had spoken. Like the ceiling, the room was cream with a gold trim. In the centre of the room hung a beautiful chandelier, beneath which were an armchair, sofa and chaise longue. This certainly wasn’t Kansas anymore.
The person who had spoken was sitting in the armchair. She was a woman with blonde hair tied back in a bun. She stood up and walked over to the bed, which Rochelle noticed (with a child-like delight) was a four-poster.
“I’m Doctor Cate Astor. How are you feeling?”
“Terrible” admitted Rochelle.
Doctor Astor nodded in that professionally sympathetic way so unique to doctors.
“Yes”, she said, “I would have
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