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Savage Hunger(81)



“Really, is all this necessary? I feel fine.”

Warrick’s lips twitched slightly at Sienna’s obvious exasperation, though fortunately she didn’t make an effort to pull away from the doctor.

“I’m sure you are, Miss Peters,” the older man murmured, placating her, “but if you’ll indulge me—and your boyfriend here—I’ll just make sure myself.”

Warrick could feel the flush steal up his neck and knew it matched the stain in Sienna’s cheeks. Her gaze slid to him and all irritation faded from her eyes.

Instead there was softness and a regret—for what, he couldn’t be sure—but what caught him the most was the flicker of need.

Heat slid through his body, awakening his desire for her. And damn he was a bastard, because why did he always want to have Sienna flat on her back when she was sick or recovering?

Shit, when she’d taken the shot intended for him this morning, his whole world had stopped. He hadn’t known what had been in that gun, had only seen Sienna jump in front of him and then go down hard.

He and Quinton both suspected the dart was full of the same drug the ferals had been given. And the fact that the drug was now in Sienna’s system scared the shit out of him. They knew what the drug did to a shifter, but what about to a human? It was anybody’s guess. Dammit, it could’ve killed her.

Even now, he couldn’t begin to comprehend why she’d place her life at risk so blatantly.

“Well, my dear. You do indeed appear to be just fine.” The doctor pulled the stethoscope from his ears and draped it around his neck again. “Blood pressure’s normal, pulse is fine, temperature is a little warm, but it’s hotter than blazes in here. I’m just going to draw a blood sample and have it analyzed to be safe though.”

Sienna nodded and tore her gaze away from Warrick. It’d been a long day and her fatigue was obvious from the dark circles gathering under her eyes.

She didn’t even flinch when the doctor inserted the beveled needle into her arm to withdraw blood, though after a moment her eyes fluttered closed.

“And we’re all done.” The snapping of latex gloves sounded as the doctor plucked them from his hands and tossed them in the trash. “My advice for now would be to just get some rest and try not to stress yourself…”

Not stress herself out? Warrick’s jaw flexed and he bit back a harsh laugh. Apparently the good doc realized his request might be a little on the asinine side because his ears turned red and he cleared his throat.

“Well, at least try to force her to rest,” he pleaded to Warrick and grabbed his medical bag off the floor. “I’m going to head back to headquarters. You know where to reach me if you need anything.”

“Of course. Thank you, Doc.” Warrick shook the doctor’s hand and then escorted him to the door.

A moment later he closed it again and made sure it was double-locked, before turning to face Sienna.

“How are you?” he asked softly.

“You heard the doc. Just fine.”

Her flat tone had his insides clenching. “I’m not asking about physically, Sienna. Obviously the side effects of the drug aren’t hitting you. I mean emotionally. How are you holding up?”

Sienna’s eyes narrowed and she shook her head. “Seriously, Warrick? Seriously?”

Her harsh sarcasm was a welcome break from her bleak demeanor, until she went on.

“First I’m told that we’re mated, and I apparently have no say in it. Then my father goes missing and I end up with a poisoned dart in my shoulder. And now I’m bedridden and sweating like a pig. I’m doing fucking great.”

Warrick tried not to growl at her verbal attack, as her voice escalated with anger. But it was the fear behind her words that made sympathy claw through him and swell until he literally had to will himself not to cross the floor and drag her into his arms. The need to hold her, to encourage her tears, was so damn overwhelming. But he knew that right now she wouldn’t appreciate it. Probably didn’t want anything to do with him actually.

Which was just too damn bad. They were holed up in the Marriott under a fake name until the P.I.A. gave them instructions on what to do next. There’d been no ransom note for her father, no indication really that he’d even been kidnapped. Maybe he’d disappeared on his own. Though Warrick wasn’t really sold on that idea.

“If I hadn’t been getting my gut sliced open with a butcher knife, I never would’ve let you take that dart for me, Sienna.”

The fight seemed to leave her in a rush. Her shoulders crumpled and she sighed, shaking her head. “Oh God, I know. I’m sorry. It was my choice, Warrick, and I don’t regret it. We need you, and if that dart had hit you and you’d gone feral…”