Taming the Zookeeper
Chapter Two
MELENA
“You did a good job today,” Doctor Keller said, finishing up the last of Marcus’s stitches.
His arms and apron were smeared with Marcus’s blood, now dried and turning a sickly brown.
I looked at Marcus, lying broken on the table, as I peeled off my own bloody gloves and tossed them in the trash. His face was peaceful, but his body was a patchwork of wounds.
He’d been beaten badly in the field before help arrived. If it weren’t for his father, our alpha, he’d likely be in the morgue now.
I’m a trained doctor and I’ve seen worse injuries, but this felt different. Marcus was my friend. We worked together, trained together, traveled together. I was the family’s go-to medic.
I looked at his bruised, stitched-up abdomen, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in my chest. I took a deep breath.
We’d been working on Marcus for four hours. My back was screaming in protest. Every muscle ached from hours of standing still, hunched over the operating table.
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” I asked, looking over his wounds one last time.
“If it weren’t for you, he’d be dead,” Doctor Keller said, not looking up. His voice was calm, serious.
I remembered finding Marcus in a ruined building, lying in a pool of his own blood. His father was begging for help as Marcus’s life slipped away.
“We’ll know if he’s out of danger in the next forty-eight hours,” I said, more to myself than anyone else. I turned to look at the monitors.
Doctor Keller nodded, snipping off the last bit of suture.
“You can clean up, Melena. I’ll update the alpha’s family and watch Marcus tonight. You’ve done enough,” he said, his voice kind.
Doctor Keller had been the pack’s doctor for years. His silver hair and wrinkled face showed his age, but his hands were steady and skilled.
I’d trained under him, and I was grateful he’d taken me under his wing.
I looked down at my bloody, dirt-streaked tactical suit peeking out from under my apron. Have I been here this long?
When someone’s life is in your hands, time seems to disappear. All that matters is the steady beat of a heart and keeping it that way as you navigate through torn skin and broken bones.
Being werewolves helped. Our species healed faster than humans.
“Thanks, Doctor,” I said, pulling off my apron and tossing it in the trash. “I’ll see you later.”
I picked up my helmet on my way out of the operating room, tucking it under my arm as I left the infirmary.
In the small waiting area, I saw Francesca sitting in a chair, her head in her hands. Her golden hair hid her face. She was still in her tactical uniform.
“Hey babe,” I said, my voice rough.
She looked up and jumped to her feet, hugging me tightly. “Don’t you ever do that to me again!” she said into my shoulder.
Her voice was hoarse, like she’d been shouting orders after I left the battlefield.
We pulled away, looking each other over. I needed to make sure she wasn’t hurt, and she seemed to feel the same way.
“Are you okay?” I asked, checking her uniform for any holes. I didn’t find any.
“I’m fine, you?” she asked.
“Also fine.”
We both sighed in relief.
“Thank goodness,” she said, putting a hand over her heart and pretending to faint. “Because you still owe me money.”
I knew she was joking to cheer me up, and it worked. Her smile was contagious, no matter how bad my mood.
She’d always been there for me, especially during my intern days at the local hospital. Without her, I might have quit medicine before I even started.
We walked toward the pack house entrance in silence. As unmated female warriors, we lived in the pack house with the other unmated wolves. The alpha liked having me close for medical emergencies.
Fran was my best friend, more like a sister than anything else. We did everything together, always watching each other’s backs, whether on the battlefield or in a bar full of rowdy men.
“Melena,” a familiar voice called as we entered the pack house. “How is he?”
It was Melissa Adams, Otis’s mate and our Beta female.
Her brown eyes were anxious as she put a hand on my shoulder, rubbing it gently.
“He’s stable for now. We’ll need to keep a close eye on him for the next forty-eight hours,” I told her. She nodded, understanding what I meant.
“And, could you pass along my thanks to Otis? He saved me today, and I didn’t get a chance to thank him properly.”
Her face lit up at the mention of her mate. “Of course, I’ll tell him,” she said, giving my shoulder a comforting squeeze before stepping aside to let us pass.
I could tell she noticed the exhaustion in my eyes, but she held her questions for later, probably after I’d had some sleep.
Five minutes later, Fran and I were in our separate rooms, peeling off our heavy clothes and gear.
We didn’t share a room, but we did share a room cluster—two single rooms connected by a bathroom in the middle.
Most of the time, we left all the doors open, turning it into one big space where we could move freely between each other’s areas.
I started running a bath without thinking, while Fran hopped into the shower. It was our usual routine.
While I soaked in the tub, she preferred to shower, dancing and singing like a maniac to whatever song was stuck in her head.
But I had a feeling there wouldn’t be any dancing today.
“Doctor Keller wants me to pick up some supplies from the Lionheart National Zoo tomorrow. Want to come?” I called out over the sound of the running water.
“No, thanks. I’ve got a date,” she replied casually.
“A date? With who?”
Fran poked her head out of the shower, grinning at me. “Tony,” she said, winking playfully before disappearing back into the shower.
I groaned and slid down until I was submerged in the hot water.
Fran and Tony had a habit of hooking up when they were lonely, but they never took the next step to make it official.
I didn’t like how they used each other, especially since they weren’t fated mates. I believed in that concept with all my heart. Call me a hopeless romantic, because that’s exactly what I am.
Continue to the next chapter of Taming the Zookeeper