Fated Magic (Claimed by Wolves #1) - Callie Rose Page 0,1

telling me. Say the word, Sable, and I’ll have security remove him from the room so we can really chat. His clipped Indian accent and his deep, melodious voice is a balm to all the aches I’ve ever walked into this building with—even the ones on the inside.

But I can’t do what he’s suggesting. I can’t tell Uncle Clint to leave so that I can confide in this sweet doctor who knows something isn’t right.

“No, that’s okay. I’d prefer that my uncle stay with me.” My voice comes out small. Dejected. I’m sure Doctor Patil can hear that too. Clint and I are putting on a soap opera, and this man sees right through it. Too bad there’s not a damn thing he can do to save me.

Doctor Patil swivels on his stool again, his long white coat swishing. He purses his lips as he looks at me, like he’s trying to solve a puzzle that’s missing key pieces. There’s pity in his gaze, concern etched into the lines that frame his mouth.

“Sable, are you okay?” He speaks slowly, as if willing me to answer with the truth.

Uncle Clint’s gaze is like fire searing my face, and my stomach twists into an even tighter knot.

“Well, doc, I fell down the stairs and broke my arm, so I’d say I’ve had better days,” I joke, forcing levity into my tone. I want to signal to this man—this good man—that I need help. I want to admit to him that my uncle beats me and keeps me locked up in the house like an animal.

But I can’t. I know too well what will happen to me if I even hint at the truth.

I plaster a smile on my face. “Other than the bumps and bruises, I’m fine.”

Doctor Patil gives me a hard look. Acid burns up my throat as nausea bubbles up inside me. I pray that he’ll give up. The harder he fights to get the truth out of me, the worse it will be for me later. Please, please let it go, I urge him silently, keeping that damn lunatic smile on my face.

“Excuse me. Doctor?”

We’re interrupted by the nurse arriving with my x-rays, and my muscles unclench a little as Doctor Patil stands to take them from her. Uncle Clint keeps his glare on me as the doctor strides to the viewing box and shoves them into place, hitting a switch to illuminate the images.

My arm fills the white screen. I remember reading once that there are sixty-four bones in the arm, and they’re all just right there on display. A bunch of shades of gray that make up my insides. I wonder if Doctor Patil can see the bones that have been broken before.

Do they grow back harder? More crooked? Like my heart does?

“Ah. Well. Good news, Sable.” Doctor Patil turns around, shoving his hands into the deep pockets of his coat. “No broken bones after all. I’d venture to guess we’ve got a sprained wrist, like I suggested before.”

My smile turns a bit more genuine at that news. I wasn’t looking forward to healing another broken bone. Not that sprained wrists hurt any less, but the downtime for fractures is hell. Plus, my bones have been through enough over the years. I consider this a win.

Doctor Patil finishes up, equipping me with a wrist brace and instructions to give it a rest for the next few weeks. He tells me to rest my ankle too, if possible, and I nod dutifully at his instructions.

And that’s it.

He can’t do anything for all the bruises, and he can’t do anything to save me from a situation he knows in his gut is wrong, so when all is said and done, he sends me on my way.

This is how it will always be. The words slip through my mind like poison as I walk away from Doctor Patil’s kind, concerned gaze. I’ll always live in fear. I’ll always be a prisoner. And no one can help me.

Fear follows me through the maze of hallways as I walk through the medical center in Uncle Clint’s shadow. He grips the keys to his Silverado as if they’re a weapon and anyone who stands in his way might get a key to the eye. There’s mud on his boots, and he leaves a trail of dried flakes on the clean hospital floor.

Electric doors slide open with a whoosh before we step out into the dry, cool evening air. Night fell sometime while Doctor