
The Hybrid's Healer
Chapter 3
~ Ciara Pov~
The room went dead silent the second he stepped in, every single person froze, even the nurses looked like they wanted to melt into the walls, I couldn’t look away from the man.
He stood tall and powerful near the doorway, shoulders wide, black shirt stretched tight across a chest that looked hard as rock. Dark hair fell messily over his forehead, framing a face so sharp and handsome it almost hurt to stare at him. His jaw could cut glass. Scars ran down the side of his neck and slipped under his collar, telling stories of fights and pain I didn’t want to imagine. He looked like trouble. The kind of trouble that made your pulse race for all the wrong and right reasons.
His eyes locked on mine. Grey-green, stormy, glowing just a little too bright under the hospital lights. My throat went dry. Heat crawled up my neck and spread across my cheeks. I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sudden ache low in my belly. This man was dangerous. Not just in the way he looked. He felt like a storm ready to break, wild and untamed.
"Gerald," Nyra said again, her voice tight.
He blinked slowly, like he was coming out of a trance. His gaze dropped to the baby sleeping peacefully in my arms. Something shifted in his expression—not soft, exactly, but surprised. Almost hungry.
"He stopped crying?" His voice rolled out deep and rough, vibrating through the room and straight into my chest. It was the kind of voice that made my thighs press together without thinking.
I nodded, barely trusting my own words. "Yes."
The silence stretched, thick and heavy. One nurse smiled nervously. "He’s been crying nonstop for hours."
"He was probably hungry," I said.
"No," another nurse whispered. "He already ate."
I frowned, confused, but Gerald’s eyes were back on me, burning. That stare made my skin feel too tight, too hot. Like he could see right through my clothes, through my professional mask, straight to the way my body was reacting to him. My nipples tightened under my shirt. I shifted the baby slightly, hoping no one noticed how breathless I suddenly felt.
"You’re the human doctor," he said. Low. Almost accusing.
I let out an awkward laugh. "Last time I checked, yeah."
No one laughed with me. Gerald’s eyes narrowed. He took one slow step closer, and the air between us crackled. I could smell him now—dark pine, leather, and something wild that made my mouth water. My heart hammered against my ribs.
"Interesting," he murmured.
Nyra stepped between us quickly. "Dr. Monroe has had a very long journey."
"I can see that." His gaze never left my face. It traced my lips, my throat, the rise of my breasts as I breathed. I felt exposed. Naked. And shamefully turned on.
The baby stirred against me, pressing closer. Gerald’s cold expression cracked for half a second when he looked at the child. I saw it—raw protectiveness. This terrifying man actually cared. Deeply. The realization made something warm bloom in my chest, mixing dangerously with the heat pooling between my legs.
Nyra cleared her throat. "Ciara, this is Gerald Green. He owns Moonridge Haven."
Owns it? He looked too young, too feral, to run a whole facility. But power rolled off him in waves.
"Nice to meet you," I said, my voice softer than I meant.
He nodded once, slow and deliberate. "Welcome to Moonridge."
The words were simple, but the way he said them felt like a promise. Or a warning. One of the nurses gently took the baby from my arms. When her hands brushed mine, Gerald’s jaw tightened, like he didn’t like anyone else touching me. The thought sent another rush of heat through my body.
He turned to Nyra, voice dropping colder. "Office."
She sighed but followed. The second the door shut behind him, the whole room exhaled. I realized I’d been holding my breath too.
"Does everyone always stop breathing when he enters a room?" I asked.
A nurse gave a shaky smile. "You get used to him."
I wasn’t sure I believed her. Or wanted to.
Nyra came back and led me through the halls. Security guards stood like statues outside certain doors. This was supposed to be a safe place for sick kids. Why did it feel like a fortress?
"Is someone threatening the hospital?" I asked.
"You ask a lot of questions," Nyra replied.
"I’m a doctor. It’s my job."
She showed me to a beautiful cabin at the edge of the forest. Stone, wood, big windows looking out at the mountains. It was perfect. Private. Isolated. Exactly what I needed after everything I’d been through.
Inside, fresh flowers waited on the table. My bags were unpacked. The fridge was stocked. Tears stung my eyes for a moment. No one had taken care of me like this in years.
Nyra dropped medical files on the table. "Read these tonight."
The cases were wild. Kids healing too fast. Strange fevers. Eyes that glowed. Bones knitting together in days. I read for hours, lost in the mystery, until a soft knock sounded at my door around nine.
I opened it to find a small boy, maybe eight, clutching a stuffed fox. Dark hair, big golden eyes that seemed to shimmer. He looked up at me nervously.
"Are you the new doctor?"
I smiled and crouched down. "I am."
He studied me carefully. "You really are human."
There was that word again. Human. Like it was rare.
"Why does everyone keep saying that?" I asked gently.
He blinked. "You don’t know?"
Before he could explain, a deep voice cut through the night. "Ezra."
The boy jumped back. Gerald stood just a few feet away on the path, wearing a black jacket that made him look even bigger. The moonlight carved shadows across his sharp face, highlighting the scars and the hard lines of his body. My breath caught. Heat flared between my thighs again. God, what was wrong with me? This man was intimidating as hell, and all I could think about was how those big hands would feel on my skin. Ezra mumbled an apology and ran off.
I stood up slowly, heart racing. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying Gerald’s scent to me again—wild, masculine, addictive. He didn’t move closer, but it felt like he filled the entire space between us.
"What did he mean?" I asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Gerald stared at me for a long moment. The night wrapped around us, dark and intimate. Moonlight painted his face silver. His eyes dropped to my mouth, then lower, tracing the curve of my hips like he couldn’t help it. I felt my body respond instantly—pulse throbbing, skin tingling, a slick warmth building.
"You really don’t know anything," he said. Not a question.
"No. I don’t."
He stepped closer. Just one step. Close enough that I could see the rise and fall of his chest. Close enough to feel the heat coming off him. My nipples ached. I wanted to reach out and touch those scars, trace them with my fingers, maybe with my tongue. The thought shocked me, but I couldn’t push it away.
"You accepted a job here without asking questions," he said, voice rough.
"My grandfather recommended it. Evander Monroe."
That surprised him. His eyes flashed. "Evander."
"You know him?"
He didn’t answer. Instead, he looked into the dark forest, jaw tight. The shadows around him seemed to move, like they belonged to him. I shook my head. Exhaustion was making me see things.
"Everyone keeps calling me human," I pressed.
His gaze snapped back to mine, intense and burning. "Because you are."
My breath hitched. "And what are you?"
The question hung between us. Something dark and painful crossed his face. For a second, the dangerous mask slipped, and I saw raw suffering. Years of it. It made me want to step forward, press my body against his, and chase that pain away with heat and touch. Stupid. Reckless. But the pull was so strong it scared me.
He took another step. Now we were almost touching. His height towered over me. I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. The air felt electric. My lips parted. I could imagine it so clearly—him grabbing my waist, pulling me hard against that solid chest, kissing me like he was starving. Rough. Deep. Claiming.
"I stopped being human a very long time ago," he said, voice low and gravelly.
Chills raced down my spine, but heat flooded everywhere else. My core throbbed. I was wet. Aching. For him. A man I barely knew. A man who looked like he could break me in half.
"What does that mean?" I whispered, barely able to speak.
His eyes dropped to my throat, watching my pulse jump. I saw his hands flex at his sides, like he was fighting the urge to touch me. The tension stretched so tight I thought I might snap. One more inch and I might throw myself at him. Kiss him. Beg him to take me right here against the cabin wall.
He leaned in slightly. His breath brushed my ear. "You should get some sleep, Doctor."
Then he turned and walked away, I watched frozen as he disappeared into the shadows. One moment he was there, tall and powerful. The next, the darkness swallowed him whole. Like he had never been real.
My heart slammed against my ribs. Fear mixed with raw desire, making my knees weak. I stepped forward, but the path was empty. Just wind in the trees and the heavy beat of my own pulse between my legs.
What the hell was this place? Gerald wasn’t just the owner, he was something else, something dangerous and magnetic and despite the fear crawling up my spine, I knew one thing for sure, I want him badly.
I went back inside on shaky legs, body still humming with unspent tension. The files lay open on the table, but I couldn’t focus. All I could think about was his voice, his eyes, the way he looked at me like he wanted to devour me.
I lay in bed later, staring at the ceiling. Sleep wouldn’t come easy tonight. Not with the ache he left behind. Not with the memory of his scent still clinging to the night air.
Moonridge Haven was hiding secrets, big ones and Gerald Green was at the center of them, I touched my lips, imagining his mouth on mine. Rough hands sliding under my shirt. That deep voice growling my name while he drove into me, hard and relentless.
A soft moan escaped me in the dark cabin, this job was going to be a lot more complicated than I thought.
You may also like





