Immortally Ever After Read Online Free

expecting an answer.
    “Oh, I know.” Jeffe brightened. “Are you getting married?”
    My heart stuck in my throat.
    “Not today,” Marc growled, shoving past him.
    I followed, wincing.
    “What?” Jeffe asked as he let us pass.
    “Come on,” Marc said as he pushed open the door to pre-op.
    I followed him. “I wish you’d just get mad.” Anger, I could deal with. Guilt was something else.
    We stopped at the long sink by the entrance to the OR.
    Marc handed me a flat, orange bar of soap. “I’m not going to get mad at you,” he said, scrubbing hard with his own bar. “I’m going to talk to you. Something’s holding you back and I need to know what it is if we’re going to move past it.”
    I’d always tried to do the right thing, but these days, I wasn’t sure if I knew what that was anymore.
    Anticipation hammered at me and, on its heels, shame like I’d never felt before. I dug the soap against my skin, as if I could scrub myself numb.
    Marc was watching me. “This Galen of Delphi. Do you know him?”
    In the biblical sense.
    “He was a patient of mine before,” I said, not exactly lying. “He stayed in camp and a lot of us got to know him.”
    Extremely well.
    To the point where every instinct I had screamed at me to rush to Galen, to see how badly he was hurt.
    But we didn’t have that luxury. He needed me to keep it together. For years, I’d prided myself on my cool detachment. Galen seemed to be the only one who could strip me of it in an instant.
    Marc watched me, worry sharpening his features.
    When he spoke, his tone was even, well thought out. “Let me handle this one. We’ll tell this Galen that you can’t treat him.”
    The last thing I needed was Marc protecting me from Galen. “Thanks, but I’ve got it.”
    He didn’t respond, but he watched me ominously, as if he could sense a threat.
    He was right.
    Without nurses, we helped each other into our gowns and masks before hurrying out into the OR.
    Galen stood against my table, bloody and bruised. His expression was hard, his black special ops uniform torn, exposing a muscular shoulder.
    Despite the dirt and the gore, he was strikingly beautiful.
    I knew his strength and his power. I’d seen the scars slicing over his chest and abs, the old ones white against his deeply tanned skin, the new scars pink and raw. Once upon a time, I’d been the one to comfort him, to touch him.
    He was fighting for every breath, most likely battling poison, as he cradled a gorgeous woman. She might as well have been naked as she swooned all over him in a minuscule bikini top that did nothing to hide her thrusting nipples. He had one hand wrapped around her bare midriff, the other tangled in the gauzy skirt that was cut all the way up to the vee between her legs.
    I couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d started fucking her right then and there. “Who the hell is she?”
    His eyes caught mine. “Her name is Leta.”
    I didn’t realize I’d spoken out loud.
    He was close to passing out, but he clung to her as if he’d never held anything more precious.
    “I need you to save her,” he said, almost desperate.
    My pulse pounded in my ears. “I will,” I promised automatically. It was the only thing I could do.

 
    chapter three
     
    “Help me get her on my table,” I said, as Marc and I pried the woman from Galen’s arms.
    His impossibly blue eyes locked with mine. Naked excitement rushed through me. I could see the love there, the longing.
    Get a grip.
    Most likely, it was for her now.
    “Well, good thing I brought a friend,” I remarked as I adjusted the large silver light over my table.
    “Petra,” Galen began, as if he too hadn’t expected the raw shock of being together again.
    “What happened?” I asked, schooling myself, assessing her condition. One thing was certain—she wasn’t regular army.
    His expression hardened. “We were attacked crossing the lines. Short daggers and three-headed hounds.”
    Marc joined me.