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The Surgeon's Debt: Bound To The Beast

Chapter 4 No.4

Word Count: 946 | Released on: 12/01/2026

hreshold of the bathroom. She was dead weight, her heels scraping tracks into the plus

turned

e ship's desalination plant kept the water at near-f

rble floor, tearing at her clothes. The buttons of her lab coat had popped off, scattering acro

r to the edg

he o

or her to comply

with a splash that sent

was inst

freezing water hit her overheated skin.

ashing. She tried to scramble u

. He placed a hand on her sho

. His voice was

ng immediately, clashing together s

Clinton said, watching her struggle. "This

nct drove her. She lunged at him,

caught h

translucent. It clung to her skin, reveal

was the

diffuser. The orchid scent explode

in deepened into euphoria. It was a physical hi

gic center of his brain was screaming to maintai

of her neck, inhaling greedily,

reezing wet skin was confusing. Her brain, addled by the d

slumped against the porc

st the pulse point of her throat. He could feel h

bit

emical signal she was emitting. He tasted the salt on her skin, felt the pulse be

a broken sob

brated again

d. He stared at her, then at his own reflection in the mirror. Disgust washed over

he was gone. C

cing the line of her jaw, his voice reg

her wrists against the cold tile w

, he reached i

her blouse open. Butt

t against her sternum,

er burned his palm; the ice water numbe

etraying her mind, sought the warmth of

stant memory. The mania was replaced b

in and k

kissed her hard, bruising her lips, stealing

ions, leaving only raw sensation. She kissed him back, h

there was only the sound of water

ad fell back. He

emperature was dropping. The adrenalin

limp in h

He held her up, keeping

ce, pale now, the u

ed off

d the dr

tub, watching the water swirl away, taking the heat with it.

wel from the rack and threw

he mirror. His shirt was soaked. His hair w

he whispered to

Chapter End

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The Surgeon's Debt: Bound To The Beast

Leo Fairchild Romance

“I was a surgeon on the most luxurious ship in the world, scrubbing my hands until they were raw to forget the name Ye Jiuting and the past I'd left behind. But at 2:15 AM, Room 404 became my graveyard when a federal agent flatlined on my table, and the world I'd built turned into a nightmare. The nurse handed me a syringe she swore was a standard antibiotic, but the ship's medical files had been scrubbed to hide a fatal allergy. Before the body was even cold, the widow was screaming murder, and the ship's foreman, Huston Lyons, was at my throat with a predatory grin. "You killed him, Doctor," Huston sneered, "and on this ship, people like you tend to disappear overboard." When I tried to prove the syringe was clean, Huston's brutal grip forced the needle into my own arm, injecting me with a lethal stimulant that sent my heart into a violent, scorching frenzy. I fled into the bowels of the ship, my vision warping and my lungs burning, while a ship-wide announcement declared a five-million-dollar bounty on my head. Every desperate gambler and debt-ridden crew member was now hunting me like an animal for a chance at a clean slate. I didn't understand how the digital records could lie or why a routine dose had been replaced with poison. Was I a target, or just a convenient scapegoat for a conspiracy much larger than a single death? Just as the mercenaries were about to drag me to a black site, Clinton Collier, the terrifying "King of the Leviathan," stepped out of the shadows and claimed my life as his own. "She is my Caretaker now," he declared, wrapping a black silk ribbon around my neck to mark me as his exclusive property. I had escaped the gallows only to be collared by a monster, but as I felt his madness recede under my touch, I realized that being his only cure was the most dangerous weapon I possessed.”