Chapter 10 Trackers

Grace

I'm so tired, but my body is extremely uncomfortable, making it impossible to sleep. Must be in some weird position. Did I fall asleep studying again?

When I open my eyes, I remember immediately where I am. I'm in Ethan's Silverback medical center, exhausted after spending more time in one night taking care of injured warriors than I've spent in all my days of residency at Princeton.

Given Ethan's rich amber scent enveloping me, it's clear that I'm lying beside him on the bed. However, I smell Jackson as well. They're looking at each other, not talking—must be using the mind link.

When I refocus on Ethan, I notice some mechanical devices on his stomach. "What are those?" I ask, pushing myself up.

"These are tracking devices, Grace," Ethan says, watching me carefully.

"What are you tracking?" I ask, picking one up.

"I'm not tracking anything. Jackson and my warriors found them on your car."

I set the tracker down, suddenly feeling lightheaded. Blake. He found me, or at least found my car.

"Whoa, Doc," Ethan says, sitting up and wrapping an arm around my waist. His touch sends warmth through my body. "Take it easy. You're safe."

He pulls me onto the bed with him, my back pressed against his chest. His body heat envelops me, and I can feel his heartbeat against my shoulder—steady and strong, unlike my racing pulse.

"I've seen someone watching me at the university a few times," I admit, the partial truth slipping out. "But I can't be sure who it was." I'm unable to look at either of them.

"I see," Ethan says, obviously knowing I'm holding back. "Well, someone is looking for you and since I'm in Pack Wars with multiple Alphas, I'm going to let my pack and patrols know that you aren't allowed anywhere near the borders."

"WHAT? You can't do that!"

"I'm the Alpha of this pack. It's my job to keep you safe," he says.

So arrogant!

"I am not your pack member. You don't have to do anything for me," I say, trying to be firm but sounding snarky.

Ethan leans in, so close that I can feel his breath on my lips. "You are my mate. Your safety is my number one priority," he murmurs, voice dropping to a husky timbre.

I narrow my eyes at him, even as my skin tingles where his fingers rest. "And just how do you intend to keep me safe when your leg is still healing, Alpha? You're in no position to protect anyone."

"Then, you'll just have to stay by my side."

"You are insufferable!" I growl, but don't pull away.

That sexy smile spreads across his face. "Is that why your heart rate has increased, and your cheeks are flushed, doctor? Or maybe it's my insufferability that has you practically crawling into my lap."

I look down and realize I've shifted closer. "I... This is very inappropriate," I say, scrambling off the bed quickly.

"I need to check on my other patients," I say, needing to escape his overwhelming scent.

"Jackson will come with you."

"I don't need a chaperone, Alpha," I snap.

"Consider him a guard then. It's him or me."

I yank the door open, but as I step into the dim corridor, I take a deep breath and catch a faint whiff of expensive cologne that I recognize immediately. My blood runs cold.

"You know," Jackson says as I finish with my last patient, "whatever you're running from, you're safer here than anywhere else."

I freeze, my back to him as I wash my hands. "What makes you think I'm running from something?"

"I know what fear looks like when someone's trying to hide it. And those trackers? That's not casual stalking. That's obsession."

I turn off the water but don't face him yet. "It's complicated."

"I need some air," I say abruptly.

Jackson nods. "There's a small garden behind the medical center."

The night air is crisp when we step outside. The moon hangs heavy in the sky, nearly full. Mercy stirs at the thought, her presence warm and eager.

We should stay. We're safer here.

"I haven't decided that yet," I mutter aloud.

I walk slowly through the garden, breathing in the scent of earth and wildflowers. The moon's pull is strong tonight, and I can feel Mercy stretching beneath my skin.

He's our mate. This is where we belong.

"It's not that simple," I whisper.

"I need to go back," I tell Jackson, who's been keeping a respectful distance.

He nods, relief clear in his eyes. "Good choice, Doc."

When I return to Ethan's room, he's propped up against the pillows.

"Feeling better?" he asks.

I close the door behind me. "You recognized the cologne," he says directly as I approach the bed.

I stiffen. "What?"

"In the hallway. Your heartbeat changed. You were afraid."

I nod, my shoulders tensing as I sit on the edge of his bed. "He's closer than I thought."

"You said he was obsessed with you, but these trackers take it to another level," Ethan says, his jaw clenching. "This isn't just about wanting you as his Luna anymore."

"Blake's never accepted rejection," I say, staring at my hands. "When William was alive, he kept Blake in check. But he died..."

"Blake's had free rein," Ethan finishes, a growl edging into his voice.

I nod.

Ethan takes my hand, his touch warm. "Is that why you want to leave? You think you're putting my pack in danger?"

"If Blake finds out I'm here, he'll attack. Your pack is already fighting multiple wars."

"My pack can handle itself," Ethan says firmly. "And so can I."

"You're injured," I point out, glancing at his leg.

"Temporarily." His thumb traces circles on my palm. "But you need protection beyond a locked door and new phone number."

"I've managed for years—"

"And now he's found you," Ethan cuts in. His fingers tighten around mine. "Grace, you have patients who need you. My pack needs a doctor who actually cares about healing." His eyes burn into mine. "And regardless of how much you claim to dislike me, we both know there's something between us."

Mercy rumbles her agreement.

Home. Safe. Mate.

"Stay," he says softly. His face is so close I can see gold flecks in his green eyes. Every instinct in my body urges me to close the distance.

"Why does it feel like you planned this whole thing?" I whisper.

He smiles, wincing slightly as he shifts his injured leg. "If I could plan a Pack War and my own injury just to meet you, I'd be quite the strategist."

I laugh softly. "You know what I mean."

I close the space between us, pressing my lips to his—gentle at first, then deeper, hungry and intense. When we break apart, we're both breathing harder.

"You make very compelling arguments," I murmur.

He chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Is that a yes? You'll stay?"

I take a deep breath. Running hasn't worked. Blake found me anyway. And here, I have purpose. Protection. Maybe something more.

"I'll stay," I decide. "For now."

"Smart decision, little doctor."

His strong arms envelop me, drawing me close to the solid comfort of his chest as I ease beside him on the bed. In this moment, I've found my footing, choosing a place to stand firm. For the first time in a long while, I experience a resurgence of a nearly forgotten sensation—strength that stems not from fleeing, but from staying.