Possessed Wolfless: From Rejected to Vengeful Lycans' Queen-Chapter 5: I’m a doctor

The robotic seatbelt automatically tightened around Lethia, adjusting its pressure with precise ease.

It left her momentarily awed—this was the latest generation of electric cars, found only in Ashenhold, the Capital.

The cool synthetic seat shifted beneath her, moulding itself to her shape for maximum comfort.

A droplet landed on the back of her hand. She wiped it away, only then realising she had shed an unintentional tear.

Her gaze lifted to the blue holographic display projected onto the windscreen, mapping out the car's destination.

"Thank you... and sorry. We're headed to the same place, so..." Her voice caught in her throat, thick with something she couldn't quite swallow.

Heat burned behind her eyes—those unwelcome tears falling again.

Her pale knuckles brushed against her cheek in a feeble attempt to erase them, but the sharp sniff she took only betrayed her.

Lethia wondered if her tears were worth the shame. She just wanted to shut her feelings off.

Only hours ago, she had been sitting on her comfortable bed, but now... was there even a home left to return to?

She turned to the window, hoping to mask her moment of weakness from the stranger beside her.

But it was pointless. A handkerchief appeared in front of her, silently offered.

Lethia took the handkerchief and wiped her tears, but the more she wiped, the more they fell.

Her breath hitched as she struggled to stay silent, swallowing back the sobs. She blamed her pregnancy hormones for this irritating waste of emotional energy.

The stranger tapped something on the holographic screen, and soft pop instrumentals filled the car.

As the volume rose, Lethia blew her nose forcefully, ridding herself of the lingering sniffles.

She found comfort in the fresh, refined scent clinging to the handkerchief—a blend of bergamot and balsamic cistus, crisp like a sea breeze.

This man had good—no—impeccable taste in cologne.

The kind of scent that marked him as high society. The kind that made you want to be close to him yet hesitate, knowing he could make you feel both intimidated and protected at the same time.

A quiet possessiveness woven into his composed aura, carried by the scent he wore.

As her breath steadied and her body calmed, a dominant, unmistakably masculine scent broke through the layers of expensive cologne.

It was the raw, intoxicating essence of an Alpha.

But unlike any Alpha she had encountered before, this man carried a unique scent—like the lush juices of freshly crushed grapes in a pine forest, heady yet protective.

It was deeper, more potent than the usual Alpha presence.

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A scent that begged to be inhaled, to be drowned in, to make one want to curl up in his arms.

Pregnancy had sharpened Lethia's senses, heightening her awareness, her emotions teetering on the edge of control.

And now, sinful desire seeped into the cracks of her restraint. She ran a hand over her stomach, silently hoping her unborn child couldn't feel the unholy turmoil stirring inside her.

'What kind of werewolf is he? Perhaps a Lycan?'

But she shook her head, rejecting the thought. What reason would an almighty, rare Lycan have to be lurking in the countryside?

"I don't know what you've been through," the man said, his voice measured yet unreadable, "but throwing yourself into a stranger's car for a rescue wasn't exactly a wise choice."

"It wasn't mindless," Lethia shot back. "I saw the timer, and out of the three cars at the charging station, yours was the first to finish—so it would leave the fastest."

"And what if I were an abductor too?"

"Unless you're a psychopath, I doubt someone driving a limited-edition car model would be roaming the countryside looking to—" She froze. "Wait... how do you know it was an abdu—?"

Lethia shot him a sharp glare, only to be struck harder by the sight of his side profile.

One of the many reasons Varrel had ended up as her husband was because he could make her heart stutter just by driving—and this dashing stranger was doing the exact same thing to her now.

Strong hands gripped the steering wheel, veins prominent beneath the skin where his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

A razor-sharp jawline, a straight nose, high cheekbones, and short brown hair neatly trimmed at the nape—accentuating the sinewy length of his neck, where faint blue veins practically begged to be marked.

Lethia swallowed hard, unable to blink. Dashing was an insult to this masterpiece.

She wondered—if her wolf were with her, would it be growling and drooling over this sight?

Her sex drive in heat had never been as feral as other she-wolves, but her human mind could understand better when to appreciate the beauty of temptation.

"Just say you were desperate rather than trying to sound strategic, Miss," he said.

The subtle flick of his index finger adjusting his glasses, the faint smirk ghosting his lips—it all left Lethia momentarily dazed. This man knew he was annoyingly attractive.

'Pull yourself together, Lethia. This is no time for sunset sightseeing.'

Lethia huffed. "I wasn't trying to sound strategic because I am." She narrowed her eyes. "How did you know it was an abduction? Got some kind of super-sense or what?"

'Had he been watching me since I stepped out of the van?' A paranoid thought struck her.

Normal werewolves could sense danger, sure, but telepathy without a bond? Impossible. Only siblings and mates could do that—and only if their wolves were intact.

The man chuckled. "Yeah, kind of."

Lethia frowned. Suspicious. But before she could press further, her phone vibrated. She checked it—a message from Lana.

Lana: Where? Close already? I need to head out, so don't go to my hotel. Just meet me at Holae Street, okay? There's a food stall called DumbDumb. I'll wait there.

Lethia glanced at the estimated arrival time on the map.

Just as she was about to reply, a sharp pain twisted in her lower abdomen.

Reflexively, she clutched her stomach with a quiet groan, her phone slipping from her grasp.

"Argh..."

"You okay?" The man's voice held a sudden edge of concern.

"I... I... Aarrggh..."

Lethia had never felt cramps this agonising—her abdomen twisted as sharp stings shot down her back.

She felt like serrated chains were yanking between her lower belly and spine with every movement.

Her temples pounded, her chest tightened, and each breath grew heavier.

"Relax..." The man's voice was calm, reassuring.

Lethia blinked in confusion as her seat automatically reclined to a 45-degree angle. 'Had he adjusted it?'

Then, his right hand pressed gently against her abdomen, brushing against her own.

"What—"

"Don't move too much. I need to check it—I'm a doctor."

She had no strength to argue, no space for suspicion.

The pain dominated her senses, leaving her with no choice but to let this dangerously attractive man—who claimed to be a doctor—touch her.

Her fingers clenched the seat's edges in a desperate grip.

Moments later, he fiddled with the holographic controls.

His seat shifted slightly, their seatbelts unfastened, and he adjusted his position to face her.

The car continued gliding smoothly in auto-drive, which he had just activated.

"I'm sorry, but I will help to ease the pain, So you have to relax and control your breathing."

Before she could protest, both his hands slipped beneath her shirt—one pressing her lower back, the other resting on her abdomen.

Lethia's eyes widened. Their faces mere inches apart, his steady gaze fixed on her belly, calm and assured.

"Take a deep breath and release it slowly," he commanded.