MATTEO:
The medic bent over me, steady hands tugging the last shard of wolfbane from my shoulder. She worked with focus, unaware that I was studying her instead of the wound.
Zara.
Her name alone had begun to carry its own rhythm in my head.
“I didn’t know you worked here,” I said, breaking the silence. “You handle needles with steady hands better than most omegas I’ve met. Impressive.”
She glanced up, eyes narrowing just slightly. “Is that supposed to be a compliment, Sir Matteo?”
“Of course,” I replied. “You make it sound like an insult.”
“Because you sound surprised,” she said. “As if talent should be a rare thing for us.”
I lifted a hand in mock surrender. “Calm down, medic. I meant no offense, only admiration.”
She hummed, not believing me, and turned back to her work. The f
