The next morning, sunlight sshed through the cracked windows as Alex
unlocked the door to his clinic.
His eyes narrowed sharply at the sight - a battered, bloodied figure sprawled
unconscious at his doorstep.
Alex''s pulse quickened as he knelt beside the man, turning him over gently, only
to stare in disbelief.
"Jaxon Creed?" Alex muttered, astonishment darkening his features. "What the
hell happened to you?"
He studied the bruised face, swollen and marred with fresh wounds.
Jaxon Creed, the top knight from Chicago - this was no ordinary beatdown.
With cautious strength, Alex hoisted Jaxon over his shoulder and carried him
carefully inside,ying him on the examination bed.
As Alex assessed the injuries, his trained eyes hardened - gunshot wounds,
shattered bones, nerve damage so severe it made his stomach twist.
"Whoever did this wanted Jaxon crippled for life or dead.
Alex drew a deep breath, determination steadying his hands. Healing this man
would take time, but he trusted his skills to mend even the deepest wounds.
He administered a swift injection, followed by a miracle pill.
Minutes ticked by until finally, with a groan of agony, Jaxon''s eyelids fluttered
open. His gaze wandered hazily until settling on Alex.
"You''re awake," Alex said gruffly. "How do you feel?"
Jaxon blinked, dazed. "I feel terrible... Did you save me?"
Alex crossed his arms. "You see anyone else here?" he replied, dryly, hiding the
relief in his eyes.
Jaxon tried to sit up, a sh of pain forcing a hiss through clenched teeth.
""Thank you," he muttered earnestly, struggling to bow his head.
"Stay put," Alex snapped firmly, pressing him back onto the bed. "You''re barely
holding together."
Jaxon''s eyes darkened, shame and frustration fighting across his battered face.
Alex crossed his arms, curiosity biting at him. "You''re a tough. Who could''ve
broken you this badly?"
Jaxon stared at the ceiling, jaw tightening with silent torment. Finally, he
swallowed the humiliation and spoke quietly, each word dragged from his throat.
"I came looking for you," he admitted, voice raw with effort.
Alex raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Why?"
Jaxon drew a shaky breath. "Last night, the Chicago lordsid it all out - they''re
targeting Vancouver next week. I told them no. Joining them would''ve made me a
coward."
Silence hung heavy between them before Jaxon locked eyes with Alex, his voice
low but firm.
"You''re the strongest fighter I''ve ever gone up against. I want you to train me."
Alex narrowed his eyes. "Do you even know who I am?" He remembered slipping
into the janitor''s disguise to face Jaxon.
"I got the arena''s security footage," Jaxon admitted.
"I saw you sneak into the staff bathroom and change into that janitor uniform. I
erased the files. I''m not here to expose you - I''m here because I need to learn,
and I''m hoping you''ll say yes."
Alex didn''t speak, the silence heavy and meaningful.
Jaxon continued bitterly, "They found out I wanted to meet you and warn you, so
they hunted me down. Nearly finished me off. Managed to lose them just long
enough to reach you."
Alex''s jaw tightened, "What''s their n?"
Jaxon''s words dropped heavily, chilling the air. "A nuclear strike. They''ll force the
other three lords into a full-scale war with Vancouver."
Alex felt a rush of anger surge beneath his calm exterior, yet his voice stayed
level. "Rest first. We''ll talk once you''re healed."
Jaxon''s expression crumbled, despair gripping his bruised features. "My bones,
nerves everything is wrecked. I''ll never fight again."
Alex leaned forward, eyes hard with quiet conviction. "Don''t worry. I''ll rebuild you
stronger than ever."
Hope shed across Jaxon''s eyes, sparking fiercely in his weary gaze. He
gripped Alex''s arm with desperate gratitude.
"If you do that, my life is yours. Whatever you need - anything - I won''t question
it."
Alex let out a long sigh, his expression easing as he gently helped Jaxon lie back
against the bed.
"No more promises," he muttered. "This is me paying you back - for the warning
about the Chicago lords."
Jaxon nodded slowly, finally rxing into a weary sleep, a faint smile lingering on
his lips.
Alex stood back, thoughtful eyes staring through the window, knowing the storm
on the horizon had just be far deadlier.
Next hours, he floored the elerator, cutting swiftly through the streets toward
Kingswell branch, his mind consumed by grim thoughts.
Chicago''s lords were courting death, and he needed to alert his people - fast.
But suddenly, red brake lights
flooded the road ahead, forming an
immediate jam. Alex mmed the
brakes, tires screeching sharply.
Panicked shouts echoed outside.
Something awful had clearly happened.
Alex flung open his door and stepped onto the street. Chaos surrounded him -
people screamed desperately.
"Doctor!" someone cried frantically. "Is there a doctor here?"
Alex strode quickly toward the voice. "I''m a doctor."
Relief shed across the man''s face - arge, imposing bodyguard type. "Come
quickly, our madame is hurt badly."
Without hesitating, Alex followed him through the maze of stopped cars until they
reached a horrific scene: two vehicles collided head-on.
One was a massive, armored luxury Hummer, barely damaged. The other was a
small, cheap sedan, crumpled like paper.
The bodyguard flung open the luxury car door, revealing a well-dressed woman
clutching her small bleeding head, groaning in mild difort.
But a desperate cry drew Alex''s attention away. "Please! Somebody save my
son!"
A young couple, bloodied and weak, wed desperately at their ruined sedan.
Inside, Alex saw a small boy,
unconscious and limp, impaled
gruesomely by a jagged piece of
metal. The parents'' frantic efforts
were futile against the crushed
frame.
"He''s trapped - please, help him!" the mother wailed, tears mixing with her blood.
Several bystanders rushed in, pulling and straining against the twisted metal, but
it was no use. The vehicle held firm, imprisoning the child.
"Doctor," the bodyguard barked impatiently. "Our madame''s wound is urgent. Tend
to her immediately."
Alex stared coldly at the barely injured woman, her superficial cut nothing
Ignoring themand, he marched decisively toward the crumpled sedan.
""I''ll handle this," Alex said, gripping the mangled door handle.
With a surge of fierce strength, he wrenched it back. Metal shrieked and buckled,
the entire door tearing free with a sharp crack, astonishing everyone nearby.
Without hesitation, he forced aside the crumpled metal pinning the boy down.
Swiftly, Alex reached in and carefully unbuckled the boy, gently lifting him from the
wreckage.
Blood soaked through his clothing, deep wounds and fractured bones visible
beneath torn fabric.
The child''s breathing was shallow - his survival hung by a thread.
"Ambnce is on the way" a bystander yelled, panic in their voice.
"There''s no time!" Alex shot back, lowering the boy carefully onto the pavement.
"I''m a doctor - I''ll handle it."
He pulled out a set of acupuncture needles, his hands moving fast and precise.
With practiced focus, he inserted them into key points, slowing the bleeding and
dulling the pain like a natural anesthetic.
But just as Alex''s hands moved expertly, cold metal pressed sharply against his
temple.
The bodyguard''s voice dropped, cold
and threatening. "Doctor, I warned
you. If you value your life, you''ll treat
our madame first. Her life is worth
more than a million of this worthless
brat."