Chapter 3 : The Doctor''s Touch

A week after Emily''s visit, Sebastian fell ill.

It started as a fever—a heat that had nothing to do with the fire in his hearth. By morning, he was shaking, sweat soaking through his sheets. His skin felt too tight, like something was trying to break out.

The guards noticed. An hour later, the General stood in his doorway.

"You look like death," von Strauss said, not sounding particularly concerned. "I''ve sent for a doctor. Can''t have my investment dying on me."

Sebastian tried to sit up, but the room spun. "I''m fine."

"You''re not." The General''s cold eyes assessed him. "There''s a physician in town—Christopher von Wolff. He has a reputation for handling... unusual cases."

Something in the way he said "unusual" made Sebastian''s skin crawl.

The doctor arrived that afternoon.

Sebastian heard him before he saw him—a calm, measured voice in the corridor, the scent of antiseptic and something else, something green and wild like a forest after rain.

Then the door opened, and Christopher von Wolff stepped inside.

He was younger than Sebastian expected, maybe thirty, with hair the color of dark honey and eyes that should have been ordinary brown but weren''t. In the light from the window, they held flecks of amber, like sunlight through whiskey.

"Sebastian Gray?" The doctor''s voice was smooth, educated. "I''m Dr. von Wolff. General von Strauss asked me to examine you."

Sebastian nodded, unable to speak. From the moment their eyes met, something had happened—a jolt, like touching a live wire. The heat in his blood, which had been a constant simmer, suddenly flared.

"May I?" Christopher gestured to the bed.

Sebastian nodded again. The doctor pulled up a chair, setting his black bag on the floor. His movements were precise, economical. He took Sebastian''s wrist, fingers finding the pulse point.

The moment skin touched skin, the jolt became a current.

Christopher''s eyes flicked up, meeting Sebastian''s. For a second, the amber flecks seemed to glow. "Your pulse is... unusual," he said, his voice carefully neutral.

"It''s fast," Sebastian managed. "The fever—"

"It''s not just fast. It has a double rhythm." The doctor''s thumb pressed harder. "Like there are two hearts beating in your chest. One slightly ahead of the other."

Sebastian remembered Emily''s words: Their hearts beat as one. But this was different. This wasn''t synchronization. This was... recognition.

Christopher continued the examination, his hands moving with professional detachment. But Sebastian could feel the tension in those fingers, the slight tremor when they brushed over certain spots.

"Your temperature is elevated," the doctor murmured, placing a cool hand on Sebastian''s forehead. "But not dangerously so. Have you experienced any... other symptoms?"

"Like what?"

"Changes in vision. Heightened senses. Strange cravings." Christopher''s eyes held his. "Dreams of running. Of hunting."

Sebastian''s breath caught. "Why would you ask that?"

"Because I''ve seen it before." The doctor''s hand moved to the back of Sebastian''s neck, fingers probing the vertebrae. "There''s a mark here."

"A birthmark?"

"Not exactly." Christopher''s fingers stilled. "May I see a mirror?"

One of the guards brought a hand mirror. Christopher held it up so Sebastian could see the reflection of his own neck.

There, just below the hairline, was a mark Sebastian had never noticed before. It looked like a tattoo, but he''d never been tattooed—a intricate pattern of interlocking lines, silver against his skin, pulsing with a faint light.

"What is it?" Sebastian whispered.

"Look at my wrist." Christopher rolled up his sleeve.

On the inside of his wrist, just above the pulse point, was an identical mark. Same pattern. Same silver color. Same faint glow.

"It''s called a wolf''s mark," Christopher said, his voice low. "A sign of the bloodline. It appears when... when one of us is near our destined mate."

Sebastian stared at the mark, then at the doctor. "One of us?"

Christopher leaned closer, his breath warm against Sebastian''s ear. "You''re not the only one with the curse, Sebastian. And this mark... it means we''re connected. In ways you can''t even imagine."

He pulled back, his professional mask slipping back into place. "You have a mild infection. I''ll leave some medicine. Rest. Drink plenty of fluids."

But as he packed his bag, his fingers brushed Sebastian''s hand—deliberately, this time.

The current became a shockwave.

Sebastian gasped. Christopher''s eyes flashed fully amber for a second, then returned to normal.

"The medicine," the doctor said, placing a small bottle on the bedside table. "Three times daily. I''ll return in two days to check on you."

He was at the door when he paused, looking back. "Oh, and Sebastian? Don''t tell the General about the mark. Or about... anything else we discussed."

"Why not?"

"Because he collects things with secrets. And some secrets are too dangerous to share."

The door closed. The lock turned.

Sebastian lay back on the pillows, his mind racing. The mark on his neck still tingled where Christopher''s fingers had touched it. The doctor''s words echoed in his head: You''re not the only one. We''re connected.

He reached for the medicine bottle. Taped to the bottom was a small, folded note.

Unfolding it, he read three words: Trust no one. Wait.

And below that, a sketch of a wolf howling at a crescent moon.

Sebastian crumpled the note, swallowing it. The taste of paper was bitter, but the hope it brought was sweet.

He wasn''t alone. He had Emily. And now he had Christopher—a doctor who knew about the curse, who had the same mark, who might just be an ally.

Or something more.

The fever still burned in his blood, but now it felt different. Not like an illness. Like an awakening.

And for the first time since he''d been sold, Sebastian Gray smiled.