005

The shock washed over Hazel’s features as fear gripped her. She fell back, her mind racing with questions. If his wounds had healed, why hadn’t he woken up? Overwhelmed and unable to think clearly, all she knew was that she had to tell someone, perhaps his brother, about his condition. Panic setting in, she hastily rummaged through his pockets, hoping to find his phone, but all she came across were cards.

“Wyatt,” she whispered, her mind racing with thoughts. Was he a ghost in human form? No, that couldn’t be right. She then considered the possibility of him being an alien, but such thoughts only made her nervously bite her nails. What if he woke up and harmed her?

With a trembling hand, she touched him again. “Wyatt,” she called out, but there was still no response. All she could think of were those raven-black eyes she had just seen a few moments ago, which prevented her from thinking about anything else. Her house felt like a graveyard, with a man lying on her bed, unresponsive, and she anxiously waited for him to wake up and talk to her.

“What should I do? Why won’t you wake up?” she pleaded, feeling helpless. She waited until night, but he continued to sleep soundly, like a log.

“Should I run some tests on his blood? What if he had powerful sedatives in his system? Or something else?” Her mind raced with possibilities, but she wasn’t sure what to do. He had warned her not to call anyone, but how was she supposed to save his life if she couldn’t get any help? The fear of the consequences if he died, and the police came after her, made her scream in terror. She looked out of her house, relieved to see that nobody was around to witness her distress.

Finally, she considered one last option - calling her friend Kevin to run some tests on the blood samples. She contacted him, giving him the samples without revealing too much.

“Are you becoming a mountain serial killer?” Kevin joked as he took the samples from her. Nervous, Hazel didn’t say much, simply asking him to run the tests and let her know the results as soon as possible. Hazel had to take a medical leave from work, pretending she was suffering from a high fever and diarrhea. Fortunately, her superiors accepted her explanation. As she returned to the man sleeping on her bed, she tried once again to wake him up, but he remained unresponsive. Hours passed, and eventually, Kevin called to her with excitement in his voice.

“Hazel, where did you get these samples?” he asked.

“Just tell me what you found, and remember, don’t mention any of this to anyone,” she warned him.

“I know. Don’t worry about it. This is human blood mixed with a high quantity of wolfsbane and silver,” he said, scanning the reports.

Hazel’s confusion grew. “What? What do you mean by wolfsbane and silver? And what is wolfsbane?”

Kevin sighed. “Oh, man. This is going to be epic. Wolfsbane is an herb that is harmful to werewolves. Even silver, too.” Hazel couldn’t comprehend what she was hearing. She had never encountered a case like this before. A man had been shot multiple times in the gut, but now he was miraculously healed and unnaturally cold.

“Hello, Hazel? Are you there?” Kevin’s voice broke through her thoughts.

“Yes,” she stuttered, her gaze fixed on Wyatt. “What should we do?”

“Replacing the blood might help,” Kevin advised. Hazel pleaded with him to bring the blood bottles for Wyatt, but also to keep things low.

Werewolves? Seriously?

She rushed inside and opened her laptop, spending the next two hours researching werewolves, their myths, and the things that affected them the most. According to her findings, werewolves were humans with the ability to shapeshift into wolves. They possessed enhanced senses and faster healing abilities. They could die from a silver knife or silver in their blood, while wolfsbane acted like acid to their skin.

“F*ck,” Hazel murmured, the weight of the situation sinking in. Suddenly, a thought struck her. How had Dimitry heard her voice when he was unconscious? What did that mean? She slapped her hand over her mouth in fear. Could it be true? Was Wyatt a werewolf? Her heartbeat quickened at the thought, but she quickly dismissed it. There was no way it was possible. Still, she had to check before she let her imagination run wild. Hazel went back upstairs and found Wyatt still sleeping. Her eyes shifted to the knife lying beside the bed. If he truly was a werewolf, his body would heal itself.

With a trembling hand, she picked up the knife. “I’m sorry, Wyatt,” she whispered, making a soft cut in his hand. Blood began to trickle out, but within a second, his skin healed over the wound. Hazel gasped, falling to the ground in fear.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. She shivered, her body on edge, as she hurried downstairs to open the door. It was Kevin. She composed herself before opening the door.

“Blood,” he said, handing her the bottles. He tried to step inside, but she stopped him at the door.

“Can I see where you took the sample from?” His voice was filled with excitement. Hazel couldn’t take the risk. If Wyatt found out about Kevin, he might harm or even kill him, and she couldn’t bear the thought of that happening. Hazel placed a gentle hand on Kevin's arm, trying to hide her concern. "Kevin, this is just an experiment I'm trying. I promise I'll let you know all the details once I've studied it more deeply." He agreed.

With a shivering body, Hazel returned to her bedroom. She knew that changing blood was not a normal procedure one could perform at home, as it required special equipment. But considering Wyatt’s condition, she felt compelled to take the risk. Leaving the fresh blood syringe on his left hand and the toxic blood syringe on his right, she prepared to extract the contaminated blood.

She wasn’t sure if this would work or not, but she waited anxiously, observing Wyatt’s reaction. As the fresh blood flowed into his body, she noticed his icy-cold temperature gradually rising and returning to normal. “It’s working,” Hazel murmured, keeping her fingers crossed. In the middle of the night, she changed into another bottle of blood, watching as the toxic blood collected in the bottle, appearing as dark as coal. It was no wonder he had been suffering.

Exhausted from the events of the past two days, Hazel eventually fell into a deep slumber. The next morning, Hazel woke up when her dog, Stalker, tugged at her dress. “Not now, I’m tired,” she whined, momentarily forgetting about Wyatt. However, as soon as she remembered, she looked up and saw him sleeping, appearing better than before. His skin color had returned to normal. Relieved, she let out a sharp breath and went downstairs to feed the dog.

After attending to her morning routine, Hazel felt the weight of exhaustion settle in from everything she had done. She emerged from the bathroom, her steps heavy, and went to make herself a cup of coffee. With closed eyes, she waited for the coffee machine to work, seeking a moment of peace in the silence. These past two days had reshaped her thoughts, introducing unexpected complexities. All she initially desired was for Wyatt to recover and leave her life, never to show up again. The discoveries of the last two days continued to torment her conscience. She couldn't afford to let anyone, not even him, discover the truth. The mere thought of him finding out sent shivers down her spine, a fear that it could cost her life.

“Can I get one?” Startled, she turned, her head collided with something hard. It was Wyatt, standing right behind her. His tall figure darkened her shadow, and she blinked in shock. Despite the internal turmoil, she had to maintain a facade, pretending that everything was normal. Fear gripped her, but she masked it behind a veneer of calm.

“Sure,” Hazel managed to answer, her voice filled with a mix of surprise and uncertainty. Wyatt took a step back from her, and with trembling hands, she passed him the cup. He stood there in his boxer shorts, his gaze scanning her with a mixture of amusement and interest.

“Did you save me, little doctor?” he husked, acknowledging her role in his recovery. Hazel furrowed her brow, still struggling to believe the extraordinary circumstances she found herself in. How could a man recover from multiple gunshot wounds in just two days? Oh, right, he was a werewolf. That thought alone confused her.

Wyatt smirked at her, taking pleasure in her evident astonishment. “Little doctor? Are you checking me out?” he teased, hinting at her surprised expression.

“What? No,” Hazel quickly replied, rolling her eyes, trying to regain her composure. Despite her attempt to establish some distance, Wyatt made himself comfortable on her couch without her permission.

“How are you feeling now?” she asked, looking at him, genuinely concerned about his well-being. He raised an eyebrow at her and replied, “Alive,” his eyes trailing up and down her body, particularly focusing on her legs. Hazel wore a short white top paired with red-dotted shorts.

“Mr. Romano, now that you’re feeling better, could you please leave my house?” Hazel requested, crossing her legs and taking a sip of her coffee. Wyatt remained silent, seemingly unperturbed by her request. Suddenly, Stalker approached Hazel, and she picked him up, heading to the backyard. “Come on, baby, we’ll play here,” she said, giving Stalker his toys. Honestly, she had no idea how to act in front of Wyatt. To her surprise, he followed her to the backyard and asked, “How did you save me, doctor?”

“Mr. Romano, could you please put on some clothes? I don’t want my neighbors to see a half-naked man in my home. My parents would ask me a thousand questions,” Hazel deflected, trying to escape his intense gaze as she headed toward the kitchen. But Wyatt pulled her towards him, his proximity causing her heart to race. “Why? Don’t you have a boyfriend?” he inquired, his eyes fixated on her neck as he licked his lips.

“That’s not your concern. Will you please leave?” Hazel replied, meeting his gaze, her own filled with a mixture of resistance and curiosity. Wyatt smirked and asked for her phone, diverting the conversation in a new direction. But he seemed persistent, still teasing her. “You don’t like me?”

Hazel locked eyes with his, a mischievous glint present. "You're a patient. A demanding one, desperate to be rescued." Wyatt smirked, detecting the uptick in her heart rate. Something was amiss. He had playfully teased her, observing her body language, and that racing heartbeat signaled there was more beneath the surface, something she wasn't revealing.