The chaos in the hospital only worsened by the following day.
Stretchers rolled endlessly through the corridors, wheels screeching against white floors already stained with drying blood. Nurses rushed past carrying trays of medication and half-finished reports while doctors barked instructions over the cries of patients and the shrill beeping of monitors. Every ward was overflowing. Even the waiting areas had been converted into makeshift treatment zones.
And still, more injured people kept arriving, especially from other hospitals.
In the middle of it all, Sienna's phone vibrated inside the pocket of her lab coat.
She pulled it out while moving between two wards and glanced at the screen.
"We are in the hospital waiting area."
Isaac.
He was earlier than expected, and for some reason, that realization made her heart skip.
She slipped her phone away and excused herself from the cluster of surgeons surrounding a patient. Then she began weaving through the crowded hallways, moving quickly until she reached the main waiting area.
The place was packed beyond reason.
Families sat shoulder to shoulder. Some cried openly. Others stared blankly into space, too exhausted to even speak anymore. Soldiers with bloodied uniforms occupied entire rows of chairs while nurses hurried between them checking vitals.
Yet despite the crowd, Sienna spotted Isaac immediately.
He and Craig sat in the farthest corner of the room.
Both wore plain Dilrik clothing and black nose masks like everyone else, deliberately ordinary, but there was nothing forgettable about them. Their posture alone gave them away. Calm, elegant, and different.
People passing by glanced at them instinctively before looking away again.
Isaac noticed her first.
Even seated, his gaze locked onto her with unsettling precision.
Then he rose.
Craig followed immediately.
Without speaking, Sienna turned and walked away, leading them through quieter hallways and restricted staff passages until they finally reached her office.
The moment Isaac stepped inside, his eyes swept across the messy room.
And paused.
Books, papers, medical journals, and files were stacked on chairs.
Documents spilled from the sofa.
A coffee cup buried beneath anatomy reports.
The office looked less like a workspace and more like the physical manifestation of Sienna's brain.
Chaotic brilliance.
Isaac slowly pulled down his mask.
"What a place, Dr. Rivers."
The disapproval in his voice was unmistakable.
Sienna shut the door behind them with more force than necessary. "This is a habit I can't control. Please bear with it for the time being."
"I can't."
Her eye twitched.
She turned toward him sharply. "Are you here to receive treatment or criticize my office?"
Isaac ignored her completely.
"Craig. Fix the place."
"Yes, Master."
Craig moved instantly, already gathering papers into neat piles.
Sienna stared at them in disbelief. "You people are unbelievable."
"You should be appreciative, Dr. Rivers."
"I was happier before you entered my life."
"I doubt that."
She shot him a dark glare before grabbing a nearby file and dropping onto the sofa with exaggerated annoyance.
Meanwhile, Craig cleaned with clean efficiency.
Within minutes, stacks were reorganized, journals sorted, chairs uncovered, and the buried sofa restored to civilization.
Sienna hated to admit it.
The office looked... significantly better.
Isaac finally sat opposite her, crossing one leg over the other with infuriating elegance.
"Now," he said calmly, "let's get to business."
Sienna cleared her throat and forced herself back into professional mode.
"That night at the hotel," she began carefully, "was my scent as calming then as it is now?"
Isaac didn't even blink.
"No."
Her brows lifted slightly.
"With the way you were pressed against me," he continued in that same calm tone, "I was more hungry and hot than calm."
Heat exploded across her face so quickly it physically hurt.
Craig, somehow sensing danger, quietly put on noise-canceling headphones and stared out the window like a man protecting his peace.
Sienna wanted to die.
Or kill someone.
Possibly both.
She coughed into her fist. "So the calming effect only developed afterward."
"Yes."
A pause.
"Though sometimes it still makes me unnecessarily hungry."
Her entire face turned scarlet.
What was wrong with this man?
How could he say things like that with such composure?
"That night was your first time, correct?" she asked quickly, trying to regain control of the conversation.
"Yes." His eyes stayed on hers. "Just like you."
She genuinely considered throwing the heavy medical file at his head.
Instead, she inhaled deeply and forced herself onward.
"If that's the case, then I believe I understand what happened."
Isaac leaned back slightly, watching her with focus.
Sienna opened the file in her lap.
"Your condition forces your brain into a primal survival state whenever the disconnect occurs. Everyone becomes either a threat or prey." She paused briefly. "But during intimacy, the brain releases an enormous amount of oxytocin and neurochemical imprinting signals. Because your neural pathways are unstable, your brain attached those signals to my scent."
"Which means my scent has now become an anchor. Your brain associates it with safety, pleasure, calm, and survival. Even when your rational mind disappears, that imprint remains."
"The problem with this is that this could become dangerous long-term. If you stay in beast mode for extended periods while relying only on my scent, your brain may eventually reject every other calming stimulus entirely."
Still, Isaac remained calm, not a single reaction, and she couldn't help but ask.
"You understand what I'm saying, right?"
"I do."
Then, after a beat:
"Should I put you in a bag and take you back to Subrind now?"
Sienna stared at him flatly.
"I am trying to explain a serious neurological issue."
"And I am asking practical questions."
She rubbed her temple.
Unbelievable.
"To heal you properly," she said, "I need to become part of the treatment process itself. Not just your doctor. Your anchor."
"Fine."
The immediate answer caught her slightly off guard.
No hesitation nor resistance.
Something about that unsettled her more than if he had argued.
Still, she continued.
"My treatment plan has multiple stages."
She flipped through the file.
"First, because you can't remain around me constantly, I can provide personal items carrying my scent to stabilize you temporarily while you're in Subrind."
Isaac nodded in understanding.
"Second, I need to gradually tame your beast state itself. I will introduce controlled triggers designed to bring it out under safe conditions. The moment the transformation begins, I intervene using grounding methods."
"Deep pressure therapy, physical restraint if necessary, skin-to-skin contact, and vocal stabilization." She looked away briefly. "Possibly prolonged physical closeness."
A dangerous glint flickered in Isaac's eyes.
She ignored it and continued quickly.
"The goal is to train your nervous system into associating transformation with de-escalation rather than violence."
"And if that fails?"
Sienna's expression became more serious.
"Then surgery. I implant electrodes directly into your amygdala and limbic regulation centers. Deep brain stimulation. The device monitors abnormal neural spikes and suppresses them with electrical counter-signals before the beast state fully manifests."
Silence filled the office.
Then:
"I agree."
No hesitation again.
Sienna closed the file.
"Good."
She rose from the sofa and walked toward her desk to put the documents away.
Behind her, Isaac spoke calmly.
"Excuse us, Craig."
She barely registered the words.
Some private discussion, probably.
The office door opened and closed.
Then a strange silence followed.
Her instincts prickled.
She turned immediately.
And Isaac was suddenly right there.
Too close.
Before she could react, her back hit the edge of the desk.
His hands trapped hers against the wood on both sides of her body.
Her breath caught instantly.
He leaned down slightly, pale hair falling across his forehead, azure eyes darker than usual.
"We should begin the second stage of treatment immediately," he said, his voice hoarse. "To hasten the process."
Her brain short-circuited.
This shameless bastard.
She jerked her head forward in an attempt to headbutt him, and Isaac tilted aside effortlessly.
"Doctor Rivers," he murmured, amused, "you are attempting to assault your patient."
"You are a bastard pervert."
"I know."
His lips curved up teasingly.
"You mentioned that before."
She opened her mouth to insult him again.
And he suddenly kissed her. Hard and desperate.
Every coherent thought in her head vanished.
His mouth moved against hers, stealing the rest of her protest before it could come out. Heat surged through her so violently her knees nearly gave out.
One of his hands slid from her hand to her waist.
The touch alone nearly destroyed what little reasoning she had left.
His fingers pushed beneath the edge of her untucked shirt, palm settling against bare skin.
Sienna gasped against his lips, and Isaac's restraint shattered.
He kissed her deeper, rougher now, like a man starving after pretending not to be hungry for too long.
His hand traced upward along her spine slowly, possessively, learning her body through touch alone.
She should stop him.
But instead her fingers buried themselves in his pale hair.
The moment she touched him, a low groan escaped his throat.
It made her entire body burn hotter.
His forehead pressed briefly against hers before his mouth found her neck.
Sienna trembled.
His hands tightened around her waist immediately at the reaction.
Everything about this felt wrong.
And yet she did nothing to stop it.
His thumb brushed beneath the curve of her breast, and a moan escaped her lips before she could stop it.
Isaac inhaled sharply against her skin.
The control he usually wore so flawlessly seemed to crack apart completely.
He pressed closer.
Too close.
She could feel exactly what her effect on him was doing. His rod was pressing against her core.
Heat rushed violently through her stomach.
Then suddenly.
The office door burst open.
Craig froze.
Sienna froze.
Isaac slowly lifted his head.
For one catastrophic second, nobody moved.
Then reality crashed back violently.
Sienna shoved Isaac away so hard even he looked slightly surprised.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she straightened her ruined clothes with shaking hands.
Craig looked impressively composed for someone who had just walked into disaster.
"I apologize," he said smoothly. "Someone is approaching the office."
"Understood," Sienna answered immediately.
Her voice sounded strangled.
She turned toward Isaac with every ounce of dignity she could salvage.
"You can leave now."
"You haven't given me anything of yours yet."
She clenched her jaw.
How was he calm already?
She stormed toward a drawer, yanked it open, grabbed a folded shirt, and shoved it directly into his chest.
"Take it and leave."
Isaac accepted it easily.
But instead of moving away, he stepped closer again.
Her fist flew instinctively toward him, and he caught her wrist effortlessly.
"You don't need to feel embarrassed," he murmured quietly. "It's a psychological response. Surely you understand that better than anyone."
She glared at him murderously.
Unfortunately, her rapidly beating heart betrayed her completely.
Isaac released her wrist slowly.
Then his gaze moved briefly beneath her eyes.
"Also," he said calmly, "you should sleep properly, Dr. Rivers. Your dark circles are becoming concerning."
She nearly threw a stapler at him.
But he had already moved away and pulled his mask back on.
Craig opened the door.
And the two men left.
Just like that.
The office fell silent again.
Sienna stood frozen in the middle of it, lips swollen, breathing uneven, skin burning everywhere he had touched.
Slowly, she lifted trembling fingers to her mouth.
Her mind spiraled violently.
The first time had been because she was drugged.
That was what she had told herself.
What excuse did she have now?
This time she had been completely conscious.
And yet the moment he touched her, her ability to think had simply... disappeared.
That realization terrified her far more than the kiss itself.