His Miracle Mate

Chapter 35

Ezra's POV

"It's less than a tea cup of blood, and you're making a gallon of juice!"

I poured the smoothie into a glass and set it on the table in front of Orla, right next to the box of chocolate truffles. "Drink. You'll have the rest after we're done."

She shook her head at me. Exasperation overlayed with fondness pulsed through the bond.

The first thing I'd done after waking up today was reach for the bond. It was still there, alive and vibrant and stronger than the previous evening.

After a long day of classes, Orla and I were back home in the pack. The sunset sliced through the kitchen window, setting her red hair aflame. She drank the smoothie while I stored the rest in the fridge for after she gave her blood.

Sam would be here soon to collect it. Just thinking about it made me want to whisk her away, far away where none of this would affect her, where she wouldn't have to bleed for others.

When I turned back, Orla was chewing on the chocolate truffles. I bit back a smile. "I don't see you complaining about the truffles."

Cheeks bloated, she smiled. "Mhm." Swallowing, she reached for another truffle from the box. It was already halfway gone. "This is part of yesterday's promise. Besides, who can say no to chocolate?"

She popped another truffle in her mouth.

"You're still drinking the smoothie," I linked her. She nodded.

The mind link between us was growing steadier. Orla tried to link me a few times this morning, and I could only feel a faint echo of her voice in my head.

I sat beside Orla while she drank her smoothie. She looked at me and frowned, I could feel her reach through the bond.

She huffed. "I can hear you just fine. Why can't I send?"

I rubbed her back and kissed her cheek. "Don't worry, you'll get there."

The front door opened, and the draft carried Sam's scent.

"Alright love birds, let's get that blood," Sam said, strolling into the kitchen with a small, square red bag.

Sam eyed the truffles and the smoothie on the island and grinned. "I see Ezra's mother hen tendencies have started to show."

Orla snorted out a laugh. I squeezed her side. She squealed and giggled. "What? He's kind of right."

I shook my head at the two. "Let's get this done with."

Sam put the red bag on the island and opened it. The sight of the needle made me growl. Orla patted my knee.

"Wait, do you know how to do this?" Orla asked when Sam pulled the stool next to her back and sat down.

"I'm a doctor," he said, much to Orla's surprise. "Well, I have a medical degree. I even practiced for a decade or so in the seventies."

"Wow, I didn't know," Orla said.

"With my long lifespan, education is one of the few things that keep me busy. And it comes in handy," he said, snapping on a pair of white gloves. "Let's go. Try to keep your shit together, Ezra."

With a huff, I scooted closer, wrapped my arm around Orla's shoulders and buried my nose in her hair, closing my eyes. The faint scent of rubbing alcohol and then Orla's blood made me stiff as a board.

My wolf was on edge. We knew it was Sam and we knew why we had to do this. Still, his animal instincts couldn't be reasoned with.

Fortunately, Sam was quick with it. In a couple of minutes, he said, "done."