An Alpha's Instinct

Chapter 10: You’re a Werewolf, Erin

The bathroom itself is spacious. There's a corner bathtub with steps – green tiles contrasting against the cream walls and floor tiles – as well as an open shower against the whole wall to its left and a window taking up the top half of the wall to its right. A toilet is nestled into the other corner next to the window, its sill painted brown and lined with potted plants, wooden wolves, and old-looking artifacts that look like sharp Caine teeth. Three green sinks are situated on the wall next to the toilet, opposite the shower wall while a wall-to-floor wooden cupboard takes the remaining space beside the door.

Yet, even with all the space, and all the people inside right now, it's only once the doctor arrives with her briefcase that Erin feels the space become narrow and cramped. She's an older lady, maybe fifty or sixty with long brown hair loosely woven down her back in a French braid and squinty brown eyes that remind Erin of an owl. His relief of her arrival is short-lived when the red-haired woman from before returns as well. She enters the cramped bathroom and stands next to Ben in the shower area, the two of them sharing a look as she crosses her arms over her chest. Ben shakes his head and leans against the wall.

“Beatrice explained what happened to me on the way," The doctor walks over to where Erin sits on one of the bathtub steps and holds her hand out. “My name is Dr. Haven. It's a pleasure to meet you." Her voice is raspy but clear, like someone who has experienced all life has to offer and came out stronger because of it. It sounds so familiar to Erin.

“Yeah, you too. I'm Erin." Erin shakes Dr. Haven's hand. It's much softer than what he was expecting. “Look, everyone is exaggerating. I'm fine, really."

“You are not fine, Erin." John says with a stern voice. He's sitting next to Erin, his body twisted so his back is to the window, casting a shadow over his features when Erin looks toward him. “You have blood and cuts all over you. Your mother is on her way back now and honestly, you're lucky I don't take you off this project right this instant."

“I don't think that will be necessary," Dr. Haven interjects as she closes her briefcase. “The wounds aren't deep at all, so young Erin won't need any stitches. They'll heal in no time at all." She'd been looking Erin over while John talked – checking neither of his ankles or wrists are sprained by rotating them gently, lifting his tank top to get a closer look at the cuts, and turning his head side to side while shining a light into his eyes. She stands and sends a beady stare to Victor.

Victor tenses from his spot on the toilet. After they had gotten into the bathroom, he had tried to sit next to Erin on the bathtub steps, but John had gotten there first.

Dr. Haven sends a skeptical look to Erin. “You were lucky this time but be careful in the future. Watch your surroundings. It doesn't take much to kill a man."

Erin stiffens, feeling like all the blood in his veins froze with Dr. Haven's words. That was more than just a reprimanding warning. There was fear in her voice. But why would a doctor from New York fear harm coming to Erin? A potential liability case perhaps?

Ben's voice pulls Erin from his thoughts. “John why don't we go get Erin some water while Victor takes him upstairs to get some new clothes?"

John nods before standing. He squeezes Erin's shoulder once, a smile mixed with worry and relief gracing his lips, before following Ben out of the bathroom. Erin notes the woman from before is gone now too, leaving just him and Victor.

“So, are you gonna let me walk myself to your room or are you gonna carry me?" Erin teases.

Victor has a worried look on his face. His features are tense and furrowed. He says nothing, no huff or grunt accompanied by a smile, before standing and walking over to Erin with his hand held out. Erin takes it, walking hand-in-hand with Victor up to his room. He doesn't pay too much attention to his surrounding as he walks up the stairs to the fourth floor, too focused on the warmth spreading up his arm and circulating through his blood from where his hand is connected to Victor's.

Victor lets go of Erin's hand when they reach his room. There's not much inside besides a bed with a black comforter and a side table filled with books. Both are facing the balcony which is directly opposite the door as they walk in. Victor strolls over to a walk-in closet to the right of the balcony while Erin sits on the edge of the bed. 'Soft' he thinks, bouncing a little bit.

“Here." Victor is standing in front of Erin after returning from the closet, an amused smile on his face. He's holding a black pair of sweatpants and a green gym shirt.

Erin stands as a blush creeps from his ears down to his neck. “I didn't peg you as someone who wore gym clothes casually."

“I'm not." Victor sits where Erin was while Erin walks into the closet. “But I figured you were."

“Oh, what made you think that?" Erin changes clothes slowly. There's a standing mirror in the closet, allowing Erin to finally see all the cuts on his arms and legs as he tears the torn and dirty clothes off his body.

“Instinct," Victor calls. Erin pauses, the borrowed shirt halfway onto his arms. Instinct. Yeah, right. He rolls his eyes as he finishes getting changed. The clothes are a perfect fit.

“Are you sure you're ok?" Victor asks as Erin walks out of the closet. He places the ruined tank top and uniform on the floor by the door and sits next to Victor on the bed, their shoulders touching.

“Yeah. I was just distracted." Erin realizes he's leaning into Victor's shoulder and pulls away. Victor's smell is everywhere in the room, which isn't helping Erin stay alert and on guard. He's supposed to be borrowing Victor's pants, not trying to jump into them.

“About what?" Victor turns sideways on the bed, so he faces Erin. There's concern in his eyes and his voice. It's like his very soul is asking what possibly could've distracted Erin enough to get hurt. Erin says nothing, looking anywhere but Victor's face.

Victor chuckles all of a sudden. The low sound echoes around the empty room. “Beatrice."

“What?" Erin mirrors Victor's position, his brows drawn together in startled confusion.

“The woman Ben and I were with; her name is Beatrice. She's Ben's little sister. My cousin." Victor explains. He has a proud glint in his eyes as he smiles.

Erin feels the blush from his neck and ears now spread to cover his whole face. No wonder she resembled Stella. Erin doesn't dwell on the embarrassment he feels when another thought kicks him in the gut – if Beatrice is Stella's daughter, then Stella has definitely told her to keep tabs on him and Victor. But Victor and Beatrice did seem pretty close. So maybe she won't tell Stella about Victor carrying him inside.

“You were feeling jealous," Victor tells Erin, unaware of his inner turmoil. “It's perfectly normal for mates to feel that way."

Erin's stills, his mouth still open to protest Victor's declaration that Erin was jealous. The room suddenly feels much colder than it did before. There's pressure starting to build behind his eyes. “Mates? Like friends?"

Victor shakes his head. He reaches out to grab both of Erin's hands. “I mean as in soulmates. Destined ones who'll always find each other no matter how far apart they are born." Erin is staring at Victor; his heart is beating so loud he swears Victor can feel it in his fingertips. The pressure in his head is thumping louder like something is throwing its whole-body weight against a door and howling at Erin to open up.

Victor's confident expression slowly morphs into one of confusion and insecurity. “You're a werewolf, Erin. Didn't you know?"

Erin stands abruptly and looks around the room. “Ok. Where are the drugs?"