LGBTQ Romance, Dark Fantasy, Steamy
Date Published: October 10, 2025
Publisher: Changeling Press
their wounds threaten to rip them apart.
for magical creatures, particularly werewolves. When the leader of all
werewolves comes to him with a problem that presents like psychosis, Amir
needs help. Oliver’s nursing a grieving heart and a chip on his
shoulder. Still, when Amir asks for his help, he jumps at the chance. The
submissive wolf is beautiful.
Trust is Fraught (Medically Necessary 2): As the leader of the werewolves
sinks further into insanity, Amir and Oliver fight prejudice and time to
rescue their alpha. As Oliver and Amir are pulled deeper into the dangers of
the psychic world, their love may be the only thing keeping them sane.
Trust is Sacred (Medically Necessary 3): Oliver’s terrible secret is
eating him alive. Amir thinks purging and confession are medically necessary
for spiritual and physical well-being, but Oliver will stop at almost nothing
to hide his scars.
Can either of them learn to trust?
Excerpt from Trust is Earned
He had tended to different members of the Tilthos and Merle werewolf packs
over the years. Being positioned in southern Erie County, located in Upstate
New York, had been the best thing he could do for his medical practice. Once
he’d finally convinced Nicholas Black of the Merle pack in Buffalo, New
York, to work with him as the werewolf equivalent of a midwife, his office was
often full to bursting with pregnant female werewolves.
And it didn’t matter one bit that he spoke Werewelsh, the native
language of most werewolves, with an accent or as only his fourth language.
For Dr. Amir Othman, the prejudice he might have encountered because of his
unusual parentage and his even more unique upbringing was all overshadowed by
one truth. He was good at his job.
That didn’t make him less nervous to meet the alpha above all alphas.
Tilthos Charles, alpha of his own pack and leader of the wolves of North and
South America, was supposedly intimidating. All of which pointed to this
truth: while Amir had healed every magical creature from djinns to kelpies,
and even two dragons, he still worried about doing or saying the wrong thing
in Tilthos Charles’s presence.
What bothered him even more was that he almost qualified as a lone wolf. A
“packless loner,” in werewolf-speak, and that was not a
compliment. He had a technical pack, run by Kreisha Alexander. When that
particular alpha threw his weight around, everyone obeyed. Thankfully, that
pack was in Washington, DC, nearly two hundred miles away. So, unless Alpha
Alexander gave him an edict directly over the phone, as opposed to in an email
or via snail mail, Amir could basically do as he chose.
Except, now the alpha above all alphas was coming to his office and would
surely demand to know why he hadn’t switched his allegiance to a pack up
here in New York. “It doesn’t have to be mine,” the most
powerful werewolf on the planet would say, “but it can’t be you
operating under your own aegis.”
So, when his assistant, Carly, sent him a message that Tilthos Charles was
here, Amir’s pulse picked up. He responded to her message, saying
he’d be in Exam Room Three in under five minutes. Then he did a deep
breathing exercise, using the five senses trick he’d learned as a young
wolf when he first realized he wanted to become a doctor and would be around
blood and anxious magical creatures.
Five things he could see. His fidgety hands. By crossing his eyes, he could
see his nose. His computer screen, which held everything his clinic had on the
alpha above all alphas. Trying to look farther away in an attempt to slow his
racing heart, he looked at the carpet in front of his desk. It was a boring
brown that didn’t hold his attention. Finally, he looked at the door
where he’d hung a poster of a Great Pyrenees, which was the closest
breed to his family’s wolf forms, which were usually white.
Four things he could hear… The thudding of his heart. The rush of blood
in his veins, which meant he was really keyed up still because even though he
was a werewolf with acute hearing, he didn’t usually pay attention to
the sounds of his own or others’ bodies. He struggled hard to refocus
and heard the buzzing of the fluorescent light in the ceiling. He needed one
more thing, so he made his chair creak. Oddly, the sound of something he could
completely control helped him breathe a little easier.
Three things he could touch… The pen in his hand, which he’d been
nervously twirling. He set it down. The feel of the chair under him, with his
suit coat slung over the back. He could also feel his toes in his shoes. He
breathed in more deeply than he’d managed so far and felt still a bit
better.
Two things he could smell… He could no longer smell adrenaline. That
was a good thing. He lifted his hand to his nose and smelled the soap
he’d washed with maybe ten minutes ago.
And one thing he could taste, which was his cold lavender matcha latte.
Glancing at the clock icon on his computer, he saw it had been almost three
minutes. Well, it was now or never. He doubted he’d be calmer if he sat
here longer. So, he stood, straightened his white medical coat, and left the
office. He listened to people talking quietly in the waiting room as he
passed. He smiled at Carly, who mouthed, “Good luck.” Then he
knocked on the door of Exam Room Three.
“Please come in.”
The voice that had responded was lightly accented, and he wondered why no one
had ever told him Tilthos Charles was Hispanic. Then he was in the room, and
he saw there were two people inside. The werewolf was certainly Tilthos
Charles and the psychic vampire… Oh, yes. Tilthos Charles’s mate
was a psychic vampire.
The alpha wolf sat on the exam table and his mate stood at his side. It was
actually the psychic vampire who moved first, holding out his hand. “Dr.
Othman, I’m Luis McLaughlin.”
Amir shook with him and then offered his hand to the burly werewolf. He saw
the wolf’s eyes flicker quickly down to his hand and then away. Then his
hand was taken and Tilthos Charles said, “Please to meet you, Dr.
Othman.”
He sounded it too, but there was something bothering him. Well, and
didn’t that make sense? Folks who were completely healthy rarely came to
the doctor’s office.
“The pleasure is mine,” Amir returned, smiling at both of them.
Then he retreated until he could sit on his stool. He watched Tilthos
Charles’s eyes try to focus on him. “Forgive me, but while I have
some information about your general health, I know very little about your
visual impairment.”
He saw his guess had been right, that the alpha above all alphas indeed had
something wrong with his vision.
“I told you he’d know,” said Luis as his mate brought out a
folded white cane from behind his back.
“Forgive me the test, Dr. Othman,” said Charles, “but
I’ve been seen by too many doctors who miss the obvious until I point it
out to them.” He settled the cane on his leg, keeping one hand on it so
it wouldn’t fall. “We’re here today, not because of my
visual impairment, which has been unchanged since I was born, but because Luis
is convinced there’s something…” He hesitated.
Luis said, “He’s distracted and agitated.”
Amir watched Charles’s nostrils flare and his pupils dilate.
“I’m on edge because Agent Sowerby’s… Shit. I must be
off-balance somehow if I’m about to spill state secrets.” He
smiled ruefully at Amir. “Forgive me. Luis is right. I just can’t
figure out how you’ll help me or if there is any help for the mess
we’re about to be in.”
“May I examine you?”
Charles nodded.
Amir went through all the basics, including sending the alpha werewolf out to
give him a urine sample. When the door closed, he turned to Luis. “How
long has he been on edge?” He could smell the wolf’s almost panic.
“About three weeks. “
“Did anything precipitate his anxiety?”
Luis sighed. “I’m not sure what’s really private. I assume
you’re bound by medical confidentiality?”
“I am.” He could see the psychic vampire hesitating. “Please
tell me everything you can. I cannot be effective while only possessing half
the facts.”
“My mate holds the belief that the head of SearchLight is going to
expose all magical creatures.”
Amir’s mouth went dry. “I know Tilthos Charles probably has the
ear of SearchLight. Is he correct?”
“Absolutely not, but I can’t convince him of that.”
“Has he talked to…” He couldn’t remember the name of
the new head of SearchLight, only that Agent Weinberg had stepped down.
“I’ve tried getting Jack Sowerby to talk to him. No dice. Not that
Agent Sowerby wouldn’t, but Charlie didn’t believe him.”
Amir held up his hand. The bathroom door had creaked open. He turned his head
toward the exam room’s entrance for good measure.
Tilthos Charles entered. “Your assistant took my sample.”
Amir said soothingly, “Please, Alpha, sit down.”
He saw his words had the opposite effect to what he’d intended. Instead
of resting on the table again, Tilthos Charles drew himself up. He was taller
than Amir by half a foot and intimidating as hell.
Sitting on his stool, making himself as nonthreatening as possible, Amir put
his hands palms up on his thighs. “I mean you no harm.”
Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender
women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she
created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its
problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host
of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the
contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,” Emily
has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a passionate
quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central or on her
website.
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