Hugh stared into his tea, and contemplated the void of the rest of his life.

Normally, it was a relief to retreat to his house and shut out the rest of the world on his days off. Now, however, the silence of his soundproofed study seemed oppressive. No matter how he tried to relax with his favorite lapsang souchong and a good mystery novel, his nerves were wound tight. Not even the purring cats on his lap were helping.

He kept finding himself looking up, listening for…something.

Something that wasn’t there.

Something missing.

If only we knew what that could be, his unicorn said snippily. Truly, a mystery for the ages.

Anyone who thought that unicorns were all sweetness and light had never lived with one in their head. His beast could be a sarcastic sod when its horn was out of joint.

With a growl of frustration, Hugh pushed aside his stone-cold tea. Much to the displeasure of his cats, he rose. Even though he should have been exhausted after his twenty-four-hour work shift the day before, a strange, restless energy filled him.

He raked his hands through his hair, casting around for something to do. He’d already washed up the single plate from his breakfast. Every book on his oak shelves was perfectly sorted into its proper place. Even the oriental rug only had a few cat hairs clinging to it.

Everything in his entire house was arranged exactly to his liking. He’d never invited anyone—not even his fellow firefighters—to enter his home. It was the one place where he could escape the constant, incessant onslaught of other people’s lusts and desires and emotions. It was his sanctuary.

Now, it felt empty.

Work, he decided. That was what he needed. A purpose. He needed to get out there and do what he was made to do.

Yes, his unicorn agreed. So go to her.

“Oh, shut up,” Hugh muttered under his breath as he hunted for his shoes.

He wasn’t on call at the moment, but he was a familiar enough sight at the local hospital. A white coat and a confident manner would mean he wouldn’t be challenged.

He’d ghost through the critical care wards, touching a shoulder here, pretending to take a pulse there. And there would be five or ten or two dozen people who’d start to feel much better, and never know the true reason why.

And you will still feel the same, his unicorn murmured.

“That doesn’t matter,” Hugh said out loud to his animal, as he looped his hospital pass over his neck. “I don’t have to be happy to help people.”

Which was just as well, given that he didn’t expect to ever see his mate again.

Hugh opened his front door, and found himself staring down into a pair of blazing emerald eyes.

“Can you heal my sister?” Ivy demanded.

* * *

Hugh had treated patients in many difficult circumstances. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d had to perform CPR while things literally exploded around him. On one occasion, he’d even been on fire himself. And of course, there had been the memorable time he’d struggled to heal a gaping chest wound while floating on a magical iceberg above the biggest shark in the entire sea.

None of those occasions compared to now. It took all of Hugh’s control to keep his eyes on his patient, when all he wanted to do was gaze at the astonishing sight of Ivy in his house.

Even without looking at her, he could track her every movement as she prowled around his study, wary as a stray cat. The heat of her body warmed the whole room like a log fire on Christmas Day. Her fresh, clean scent was a mix of wild mint and storm air, with an underlying womanly fragrance that had his unicorn pawing the ground.

Focus. Hugh shut his eyes, wishing that he could close his nose as well to that intoxicating scent. He concentrated on his sixth sense instead; the subtle feel of energies running through Hope’s body.

Her eyebrows twitched under his palm. “That tickles!”

“Sorry.” Hugh moved his hand from her forehead to the nape of her neck. “Just a few moments more.”

He frowned as he once again encountered the strange darkness that he’d briefly sensed before. To his senses, the energy running through Hope’s nerves seemed to flicker and spark, like faulty wiring. It reminded him a bit of the acid-pitted cables in the elevator shaft. It was like her nervous system was being eaten away by some malign substance.

It wasn’t an injury, or a disease. It wasn’t congenital, either—her body knew that something was wrong, and was trying to fight it.

“You don’t have motor neuron disease,” he said, opening his eyes and drawing his hand back again. “In fact, if I was making a diagnosis, I’d say you’ve been poisoned.”

Hope bit her lip, glancing at her sister as if seeking permission. Ivy jerked her chin down once in a slight nod.

“I was,” Hope said, turning back to him. “By our mom. In the womb.”

Hugh’s eyebrows rose. Shifter pregnancies were complicated at the best of times. A mother who was a wyvern shifter, her very blood venomous…that had to make it difficult to carry a pregnancy to term. In fact, he would have placed money on it being impossible for a wyvern shifter to give birth to a normal human.

But there was Hope, right before his eyes.

“Chronic poisoning.” Suddenly, her condition made a lot more sense. “How the hell did you survive gestation?”

“Our mother can control her venom,” Ivy said. She tucked her gloved hands under her armpits, shoulders hunching. “Most wyverns can.”

“Once Mom found out she was pregnant, she tamped down her toxicity as much as she could,” Hope said. “She didn’t shift once, the whole time, even though it made her weak and sick. She wanted to give me a chance to survive if I turned out not to be a wyvern shifter.”

“And she wanted to avoid another me,” Ivy said in a low voice. “Just in case it turned out Hope was a wyvern shifter.”

The quiet pain in her tone seared him more than the loudest scream of agony. He clenched his hands at his sides, forcing down the urge to touch her. To hold her and soothe away all her hurts…

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He was having to concentrate so hard on holding himself in check, the words came out harsher than he’d intended.

Ivy didn’t flinch, but her shoulders stiffened. “Forget it. It’s none of your business.”

“If it’s part of your family medical history, then it is my business,” he countered. “If I’m to have a chance of healing your sister, then I need to know everything.”

Actually, he was pretty sure he already knew as much as he needed…at least when it came to Hope. Ivy was another matter, though. He couldn’t ignore that momentary flash of pain. He had to know what had caused it.

Even if he couldn’t do anything about it.

Ivy raised her chin, glaring at him icily. “Our mother shifted a lot when she was pregnant with me. She thought that might be why I’m venomous all the time, even in human form. Why I’m broken.”

“You’re not broken,” Hope said staunchly. “No matter what Mom says.”

A little wyvern girl with big green eyes, told by her own mother that she was broken. A mother who named her younger daughter Hope. It was a good thing he was never likely to meet the woman. It was generally frowned-upon to attempt to turn one’s mother-in-law into a shish-kebab.

Not that she was ever going to be his mother-in-law. Hugh forcibly reined in his vengeful unicorn, tamping down its righteous fury. There was a better way that they could serve their mate.

Hugh touched Hope’s wrist with two fingers, feeling again the old, malign influence of the venom in her blood. Her immune system was like a weary army, ground down by long years of war, nearly ready to break. The poison was slowly eating away at her nerves, paralyzing her body an inch at a time as her defenses failed.

“So.” Ivy’s face was set in an uncaring mask, but a desperate hope shone in her eyes. “Can you heal her or not?”

With all his heart, he wanted to shout Yes, yes! If he could have restored Hope in a single touch of his horn, he would have shifted then and there, and secrecy be damned. He would have done anything to finally see his mate smile.

“I don’t know,” he said reluctantly, hating the way his words snuffed out the light in those emerald eyes. “Maybe. I’d need more time.”

“How much time?” Ivy demanded.

“I haven’t a clue. I’ve never tried to heal anything like this before. I mostly deal with trauma patients.” He spread his hands in Hope’s direction. “Something like this, damage done over years…I don’t know if I can reverse it.”

“What about just stopping it?” Hope asked. “So it doesn’t get any worse? I mean, it would be kinda nice to be able to move my legs, but I’m much more interested in not suffocating to death before my twentieth birthday.”

Hugh rubbed his fingers together, thinking it over. “I’m pretty sure I could at least stop your condition from getting worse. But it could take weeks to purge all the venom from your body.”

Hope’s face fell. “Oh. We don’t have weeks. We have to go today.“

“You’re leaving?” Even though he’d fully intended to never see his mate again, his heart still lurched at the thought.

“Not anymore,” Ivy said firmly. “If this is even a possibility, we’re not going anywhere.”

“I thought we had to.” Hope looked up at her sister, biting her lip. “What about the police? And Gaze?”

“Don’t worry about the police,” Hugh said, before Ivy could respond. “The shifter police would still like to talk to you both, but they know the acid spray was an accident. Griff had a word with his friends on the force and explained the situation to them.”

“I told you he would,” Hope said triumphantly to her sister.

Ivy scowled, looking more irritated than pleased at this news. “Great. So now we’re even more in his debt.”

What sort of life has she led? Hugh wondered. To be so wary of accepting help…what happened to them?

“It’s not a matter of debt,” he said. “He has a soft spot for you two. Who’s Gaze?”

“My problem.” Ivy squared her shoulders. “And one I’ll sort out.”

Hope looked worried. “Ivy—“

“I said I’ll deal with it. If Hugh can heal you, it’s worth any risk to stay.” Ivy turned to him. “Well? Are you willing to try?”

He opened his mouth to say Yes, of course…and hesitated.

Unbidden, his mind flashed back to his residency. How confidently he’d swept into the hospital, feeling like some all-powerful, benevolent god. Certain that he could save everyone with just one touch of his hand.

And look how well that had turned out.

Am I being arrogant now? What if I’m wrong? What if I can’t heal Hope?

No matter Ivy’s assertion that she’d handle the mysterious ‘Gaze,’ it was clear the pair were in serious trouble if they’d been planning to skip town today. Was he putting his mate at risk for nothing?

Ivy strode forward, breaking his introspection. Planting herself squarely in front of him, she looked him straight in the eye.

“You do whatever it takes to heal my sister,” she said. “And in return, I swear I’ll get out of your life. Forever.”

“Ivy, no!” Hope exclaimed, looking horrified. “You can’t. He’s your mate!”

Ivy ignored her sister, focused on him like a laser. “You’ll never have to see me again. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Here’s your chance. A one-time deal.”

He lifted his own chin, meeting her blazing gaze head-on. “And what if I don’t like this deal?”

Ivy ground the heels of her boots into his oriental rug, planting her feet like a boxer squaring off. “Then I’m not moving an inch. As God is my witness, if you don’t try to heal my sister, I will haunt your steps like your own damn shadow. I will follow you at work. When you go shopping, I’ll be there, staring at you between the aisles. I will break into your house and move all your stuff and sleep in your bed.”

His unicorn thought this was an excellent idea.

“I will rub my scent on everything you own,” Ivy said, apparently warming up to her theme. “Your whole territory will reek of me. I’ll be the last thing you smell when you go to sleep, and the first thing you see in the morning.”

Also excellent. Hugh was distantly aware that he should probably be interrupting, but he couldn’t drag himself away from the captivating vision of waking up to find Ivy in his bed. Naked. Her tousled hair spread over his pillow, her warm curves nestled against him…

“I will hide in your bushes. I will open all your mail and write creepy comments.” Ivy appeared to grope for more threats. “I will—I will sing to you.”

“You really don’t want her to do that,” Hope interjected. “I’ve heard her in the shower. She’s terrible.”

Hugh cleared his throat. It was hard to form words when most of his blood wasn’t making it as far as his brain. He was very glad his white coat hid his crotch.

“Well, I certainly don’t want you to sing at me,” he said. “Or open my mail, for that matter.”

All the rest however, she was more than welcome to do, and twice on Sundays. Damn it, he had to get control of himself. Fifteen minutes in her presence and he was already reduced to a raging mass of hormones. This was a disaster.

He folded his own arms, mirroring Ivy’s belligerent pose. Surreptitiously, he gripped his biceps, reminding himself of what was written there. What was still unwritten. His fingernails dug into his own muscle, the small bite of pain a bitter forewarning of all the pain that he would cause if he weakened.

He took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he had to do. “If I help your sister, you promise you’ll leave me alone?”

“I swear it on my sister’s life,” Ivy said, as Hope stared at him in mute betrayal.

Hugh forced himself to hold out his hand. “Deal.”

Ivy looked down at his outstretched hand as if she’d never seen one before. His heart broke for her as he realized that probably she never had. Not one held out to her, at least.

Slowly, Ivy clasped his hand in her own gloved one. “Deal.”