She was stunning.
A little taller than average, she had a curvy figure beneath her clothes, feminine and undeniably alluring. Her dark-blond hair cascaded around her shoulders in loose, unruly waves, framing a face that made every thought in my head grind to a halt. It wasn’t carefully sculpted or perfectly contoured. Her features held a natural symmetry—a straight, delicate nose and lips just full enough to make my blood heat instantly. Her skin carried the faintest glow, sun-kissed from hours probably spent snatching time outside rather than lounging deliberately beneath the sun’s glare.
Awareness slammed into me, gut-punching me with an intensity that nearly stole my breath. A possessive thought rosein me, fierce and undeniable.Mine. The word echoed through my bones, settling deep and without argument.
I’d watched it happen to my brothers. Seen them fall, hard and fast, tumbling headlong into a possessiveness that defied logic and reason. I’d scoffed at them, sure it wasn’t something that could hit me the same way. But now, kneeling in the dirt, with my hand still gentle against her skin, I knew without a doubt that fighting this was fucking pointless.
Every nerve in my body had snapped to attention, tethering itself to her in a single, irrevocable instant. However, I didn’t have the luxury of doubting this moment, not when clarity had already landed in my chest. So I accepted it without hesitation, embracing the raw truth as my fingers tightened just slightly against the soft curve of her cheek. She was mine.
I didn’t waste any time, falling back on years of practiced assessment. She was the only thing that mattered right now.
“Name?” My voice stayed carefully controlled as I watched her closely, gauging her clarity and responsiveness.
She blinked slowly, those vivid green eyes clearing just a fraction as they met mine.
“Hadley,” she murmured softly, the word barely audible above the hum of engines still tearing around the track behind us.
“Last name?” I prompted, shifting slightly closer and feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my fingertips, her pulse steadying just a bit beneath my touch.
“Rivers,” she whispered, her eyes blinking slowly, trying to hold focus.
“Date?”
She answered automatically, her voice growing stronger with each response. Her pupils responded normally as she tracked my finger without prompting.
Good.She was holding steady.
I moved to the standard questions next—basic neurological checks, medical history, and anything that might clue me in on a deeper issue. But then I found myself adding in questions I didn’t really need the answers to. Personal ones. Small things that might tell me more about this woman who’d already burrowed under my skin in a way I hadn’t known was possible.
Hadley answered without hesitation, and strength built behind her eyes, a stubborn determination that refused to be shaken loose even by a piece of flying debris.
Finally, she shifted like she intended to push herself upright, her hands bracing against the pavement. I tightened my grip gently but firmly on her jaw, holding her still.
“Don’t move.” I didn’t need to raise my voice for her to know that I expected her to obey.
Her gaze widened a fraction, eyes searching mine for a heartbeat, as if she might challenge the quiet authority in my voice. But something she found there made her still again, her breath steadying as she settled back, letting me guide her movements without protest.
My fingers brushed her hair back, examining the wound at her temple carefully. The blood was already slowing to a controlled trickle, steady but manageable. It was deep enough that she’d need a couple of stitches, but superficial enough that it was relatively minor. Still, I intended to take her to the hospital to check for unseen damage.
Her breathing was even now, matching my rhythm as if my presence anchored her. She wasn’t panicked. I glimpsed that strength beneath that soft, feminine exterior again. Resilience hid in those stormy green eyes and that gently stubborn mouth.
My instincts told me that she wasn’t fragile, but the urge to protect her, take care of her, and own her was suddenly overwhelming. I pushed that last thought away for the moment, forcing my attention back to the injury.
As I was about to release her hair, my gaze snagged on something just within her hairline, near her right temple. A scar—small and subtle, but distinct enough that my fingers paused, lingering against her skin just a fraction longer than was strictly professional. It was the kind of scar most people wouldn’t question. But I wasn’t most people. I’d seen too many injuries and fixed too many wounds. Something about this one nagged at the edges of my awareness.
My thumb brushed lightly over the uneven texture, noting how the tissue tension pulled awkwardly beneath my touch, puckered and subtly indented. This wasn’t a clean surgical scar, neatly closed with practiced stitches and careful precision. The edges were jagged, as if someone had rushed the closure, giving no thought to cosmetics or proper reconstruction. The uneven pigment surrounding the scar was faint but distinct, shadowy traces of something that had once been there, now erased.
Unease tightened my gut. My instincts screamed that the procedure that had caused the scar hadn't been done to fix an injury. It had been done to hide something. The fierce need to protect her that had assaulted me earlier came roaring back.
Hadley blinked up at me, her gaze clearing just enough to track mine, trying to read something in my expression. But I kept my features carefully blank, not allowing any alarm or suspicion to show. I wasn’t about to spook her when all I had were conjecture and gut instinct to go on. It wasn’t the time to push. I needed to observe, gather information, and understand.
“You good?” I murmured, breaking the brief silence.
“Yeah.” Her eyes were alert, waiting for me to make the next move.
I shifted slightly, my fingers moving to her other wound, carefully lifting the edge of her hair again. It wasn’t strictly necessary since I’d already assessed it, but Hadley didn’t know that. It gave me the perfect excuse to keep her exactly where shewas for a few moments longer, giving me more time to study that scar in detail.
I kept my tone relaxed, casual curiosity coloring my words rather than suspicion. “This scar here. How’d you get it?”