The bra remained exactly where Adrian had left it.
He stared at it.
Then at the door.
Then back at the bra.
This was ridiculous.
He had escaped a laboratory.
Something with claws had tried to kill him.
He had crossed a forest barefoot, slept beneath a tree and woken up to a stranger poking him with a stick.
This was fabric.
Adrian picked it up.
There were straps.
Two cups.
Hooks.
A clasp.
None of these were unfamiliar concepts.
He slipped his arms through the straps.
That part was easy.
Then he reached behind himself.
His fingers found fabric.
A strap.
Hair.
More hair.
One of the hooks.
He tried to bring the ends together.
Missed.
Tried again.
His shoulder complained.
“Fuck.”
His ears flattened.
Adrian lowered his arms.
There had to be a better way.
He looked at himself in the mirror.
The bra hung uselessly from his shoulders.
He had taken bras off before.
Many years of adult relationships had given him at least passing familiarity with the mechanism.
Apparently none of that knowledge worked in reverse.
He tried again.
One hook caught.
Adrian smiled despite himself.
Then it immediately came loose.
His smile disappeared.
“Fine.”
He pulled his arms back out.
Turned the bra around.
Fastened it in front of himself.
That worked.
Now what?
Adrian looked at the clasp sitting against his stomach.
He vaguely remembered seeing someone do this.
Rotate.
He turned the band around his torso.
That worked too.
He stopped.
Looked down.
Progress.
He put his arms through the straps and pulled them into place.
The result was—
Wrong.
Not catastrophically wrong.
Just wrong enough that his body made the fact immediately obvious.
One strap was twisted. The band sat too high. Something pinched beneath his arm.
Adrian adjusted it.
Then adjusted it again.
He looked in the mirror.
Better.
Probably.
He moved experimentally.
The difference was immediate.
Everything stayed where it was supposed to.
Adrian stood very still.
“Oh.”
So that was the point.
He already knew that was the point.
Knowing something in theory and having his own body demonstrate it were apparently different categories of knowledge now.
He pulled the shirt on, then the jacket.
Adrian looked at his reflection.
Grey shirt. Dark trousers. A simple jacket.
Nothing remarkable.
That was the problem.
The clothes fit.
Not approximately. Not in the way borrowed clothes sometimes worked if you ignored the shoulders or rolled up the sleeves. They sat exactly where they were supposed to. The trousers rested differently on his waist than anything he had worn before, following hips he still wasn't used to seeing. The jacket was narrower through the shoulders. Even the sleeves ended neatly at smaller wrists.
The opening at the back let his tail fall naturally behind him.
He looked like someone who had dressed for an ordinary morning.
A young woman, specifically.
Adrian shifted his weight.
The reflection did the same.
Until now, the laboratory coat and blanket had made everything temporary somehow. He had been injured, filthy, half dressed and obviously out of place. Anyone looking at him would have seen that first.
These clothes removed that excuse.
There was nothing temporary about the person in the mirror.
Adrian zipped the jacket higher.
It didn't help.
He picked up the laboratory coat.
Then hesitated.
He didn't want it.
The realization was surprisingly immediate.
He folded it once and left it on the bench.
The blanket followed.
He unlocked the door.
The corridor was still empty.
Adrian stepped outside.
For the first time since waking in the laboratory, he was wearing normal clothes.
The thought should have been comforting.
Instead, he became acutely aware of how normal they looked on him.
Nothing pulled strangely.
Nothing sat on the wrong body.
The trousers accommodated the tail.
The shirt fit his shoulders.
Someone could look at him and see nothing unusual beyond species.
No sign that any of this had happened recently.
Adrian pushed the thought away.
He walked toward the room where Bruno had left him.
The receptionist noticed him first.
Her eyes widened slightly.
Adrian stopped.
She smiled.
“Better?”
He looked down at himself.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
That was all.
Adrian continued.
Bruno was waiting in the small room.
The chair had apparently survived.
A mug sat on the table in front of him.
He looked up as Adrian entered.
His gaze passed over the clean clothes, the damp hair and the tail hanging through the back of the trousers.
“Better?”
Apparently everyone had agreed on the question.
“Yes.”
Bruno nodded.
Adrian sat on the sofa.
This time he remembered the tail before it became a problem.
Progress.
Bruno picked up his mug.
“Tea?”
“No.”
“Water?”
Adrian nodded.
Bruno poured from a bottle already on the table and pushed the glass toward the empty side rather than directly toward Adrian.
Adrian took it.
He drank.
Bruno didn't say anything.
Adrian waited.
Eventually the silence became more uncomfortable than whatever Bruno was waiting for.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Adrian looked at him.
Bruno's muzzle moved slightly.
It took Adrian a moment to realize the bear might be smiling.
“You looked like you expected a question.”
“I do.”
“There are questions.”
Adrian's fingers tightened around the glass.
“They can still wait.”
Adrian looked down.
That should have been reassuring.
Somehow it made him more aware of all the questions waiting.
Bruno took another drink.
“There is one thing I'd like to do today.”
Adrian looked up.
“Medical.”
His shoulders tightened immediately.
Bruno continued before he could answer.
“Nothing complicated. We have a clinician here today. She can look at your ankle, ribs, cuts. Make sure nothing needs treatment.”
“No hospital?”
“No hospital.”
“Scans?”
“Only if she thinks they're necessary. And she'd ask you first.”
Adrian looked toward the open door.
Bruno noticed.
“You can say no.”
That made Adrian look back at him.
“Then why ask?”
“Because your ankle is swollen, you're covered in injuries and you nearly fell getting out of the truck.”
Adrian had no answer to that.
Bruno's ears shifted.
“You don't have to trust us. But I'd rather know you aren't bleeding internally.”
That was difficult to argue with.
Adrian stared into the water.
“Is she CSA?”
“Yes.”
That helped.
He wasn't sure why.
Maybe because leaving the building felt worse.
“Okay.”
Bruno stood.
Adrian followed.
The medical room was downstairs.
Not a clinic.
That distinction mattered immediately.
There were no rows of beds. No harsh white corridor. No smell of disinfectant strong enough to erase everything else.
One examination room.
A cabinet.
A sink.
Basic equipment.
A padded examination table.
Adrian stopped at the door.
His body remembered before his mind did.
Metal beneath his back.
Restraints around his wrists.
Symbols burning around him.
The carrier descending.
His breathing shortened.
Bruno remained beside him, but didn't move any closer.
“You don't have to go in.”
Adrian looked at the examination table.
It was blue.
The one in the laboratory had been metal.
Different.
He knew that.
His body didn't seem impressed by the distinction.
A woman stood beside the sink.
Human, perhaps in her early forties, dark hair tied back. She wore ordinary trousers and a dark green shirt beneath an open CSA medical jacket.
No white coat.
Adrian wondered if that was deliberate.
“Hi,” she said.
She didn't approach.
“I'm Nessa.”
Adrian nodded.
“Bruno told me you've had a rough couple of days.”
Adrian glanced at Bruno.
Bruno's expression gave nothing away.
Nessa gestured toward a chair.
“We don't need the table.”
Adrian looked at it again.
Then at the chair.
That helped.
He entered.
Bruno stayed at the doorway.
“I'll wait outside,” he said.
Adrian turned.
For some reason, he had expected Bruno to stay.
The bear had been nearby since the truck. Somewhere between the parking lot and the shower room, that enormous presence had become strangely reassuring.
But when Bruno stepped backward into the corridor, something in Adrian's shoulders loosened.
That surprised him.
Bruno had done nothing wrong.
Not once.
Nessa was still a stranger.
Yet the room felt easier with only her in it.
Adrian didn't examine that too closely.
Bruno nodded toward the open door.
“I'll be right here.”
Then he moved away.
Nessa left the door open.
Adrian noticed that too.
“Would you like it closed?”
He considered it.
“No.”
“All right.”
Adrian sat.
Nessa took the rolling stool rather than the chair beside him.
“I'm going to ask before I touch you. If you want me to stop, tell me and I stop. Okay?”
Adrian nodded.
“Okay.”
“Can I start with your ankle?”
“Yes.”
“Which one?”
Adrian indicated the left.
Nessa moved closer.
Slowly.
She crouched rather than lifting his foot.
“I'm going to touch around the outside first.”
Adrian nodded.
Her fingers pressed gently around the swollen joint.
Pain flared.
He inhaled sharply.
“There?”
“Yes.”
“Sharp or aching?”
“Sharp.”
She moved.
“And there?”
“Less.”
She continued methodically.
Adrian watched her hands the entire time.
She never touched anywhere she hadn't said she would.
After a few minutes, she sat back.
“I don't think it's broken. Probably a moderate sprain. I'd still like imaging if the swelling doesn't improve.”
Adrian nodded.
“Knee?”
“Fine.”
“You've got blood on several places. Most of it yours?”
Adrian thought of the corridor.
“I think so.”
Nessa didn't ask whose the rest might be.
She checked his shin, hands and forearms.
The cuts were shallow.
The marks around his wrists weren't.
Her fingers stopped just short of one.
She didn't touch it.
“How did this happen?”
Adrian looked at the bruised ring around his wrist.
“I was restrained.”
Nessa became quiet.
“Metal?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“I don't know.”
“Hours? Days?”
“I don't know.”
Nessa nodded.
“Okay.”
No disbelief.
No demand for precision.
She moved on.
“Any injections?”
Adrian almost laughed.
Nothing about the feeling was funny.
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“I don't know.”
“Do you know what they gave you?”
“No.”
“Anything by mouth?”
“I don't know.”
“Did you lose consciousness?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“I don't know.”
The answer was becoming unbearable.
Nessa seemed to notice.
“That's enough.”
Adrian looked at her.
“We don't need to reconstruct everything today.”
She stood.
“Your ribs next. I need to feel along them and listen to your breathing.”
Adrian nodded.
“Can you take off the jacket?”
His hands went to the zipper.
Then stopped.
The door was still open.
He could see part of the corridor from where he sat. Bruno was somewhere out there. So was the receptionist. Other people worked in the building. Someone could walk past.
A few minutes ago, the open door had made the room easier to enter.
Now Adrian couldn't stop looking at it.
Nessa followed his gaze.
“Would you like me to close it?”
This time the answer came immediately.
“Yes.”
“Of course.”
She crossed the room and pushed the door shut.
The latch clicked.
Adrian tensed.
For half a second, every instinct that had wanted the door open objected.
Then he looked at Nessa.
Just Nessa.
No corridor. No possibility of someone passing at exactly the wrong moment. No enormous bear sitting somewhere on the other side of an open doorway.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
More private.
Adrian wasn't sure whether that made him more comfortable or merely uncomfortable in a different way.
Nessa returned to the stool.
“Better?”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
Only then did Adrian unzip the jacket.
He took it off and laid it across the back of the chair.
Nessa waited.
“And the shirt, please.”
Adrian's hands stopped at the hem.
The request was perfectly normal.
Doctors had asked him to remove his shirt before.
He had done it dozens of times.
There was no reason—
His fingers didn't move.
Nessa noticed.
“Only if you're comfortable.”
Adrian stared at the floor.
He was being stupid.
This was a medical examination.
She was a doctor.
Or clinician.
Whatever.
And he had just asked her to close the door himself.
That should have made this easier.
It did.
A little.
He pulled the shirt upward.
Then stopped again when it reached his ribs.
The bra was underneath.
Of course it was.
He knew that.
He had put it there less than an hour ago.
Still, something about exposing it in front of another person made the situation abruptly real in a way the bathroom hadn't.
He lowered the shirt again.
Nessa's voice softened.
“We can work around it.”
Adrian looked at her.
“What?”
“I don't need you fully undressed.”
“No. It's…”
He stopped.
How exactly was he supposed to explain this?
I've never taken my shirt off while having breasts before.
That would lead to questions.
Many questions.
Adrian glanced at the closed door.
Bruno was somewhere beyond it.
And suddenly he was glad Bruno had stayed there.
The thought bothered him.
Bruno had seen him bloody, barefoot and barely covered. He had done nothing except help. There was no rational reason why having him in the room now should have made this worse.
Adrian knew that.
The answer his body gave him was different.
Nessa was a woman.
That mattered.
Apparently.
Adrian wasn't ready to think about why.
“It's fine,” he said.
He pulled the shirt off.
Cold air touched his skin.
His arms crossed over his chest automatically.
Nessa's expression changed.
Not surprise.
Concern.
Adrian saw it.
“I'm going to stay here,” she said. “You don't need to uncover anything until I tell you exactly where I need to examine.”
Adrian frowned.
“I know.”
Nessa paused.
“All right.”
Something was happening that he didn't understand.
She had become even more careful.
Adrian lowered one arm slightly.
Nessa indicated his left side.
“I need to see the bruising there. Can you lift your arm?”
Adrian did.
She examined the dark patch along his ribs without touching at first.
“That's significant.”
“I hit the floor.”
“How?”
Adrian saw himself falling from the chamber.
“My balance was bad.”
Nessa looked at him.
“After they gave you something?”
“After I woke up.”
A pause.
“Okay.”
She didn't understand.
Adrian knew that much.
But she wrote something down.
“Can I touch here?”
“Yes.”
Her fingers pressed gently along his ribs.
Pain.
More pain.
Then considerably more.
Adrian flinched.
“Sorry.”
“It's fine.”
“No, that one hurt.”
“Yes.”
“That means I don't press it again.”
Adrian looked at her.
Nessa moved to the next rib.
Nothing seemed broken.
Bruised, possibly cracked, but his breathing was clear and symmetrical.
Then she checked his shoulder.
More bruising.
No dislocation.
His neck.
His scalp.
The cut near his hairline.
She paused when she reached his ears.
“Any pain here?”
“No.”
“Can I examine them?”
Adrian hesitated.
The ears flattened before he answered.
Nessa stopped.
“No.”
Adrian stared at her.
“I didn't say no.”
“You didn't need to.”
His ears slowly lifted again.
That was going to become annoying.
“Yes. You can.”
Nessa approached one hand.
Adrian felt the air move before she touched him.
Then her fingers gently examined the base of his ear.
The sensation was intense.
Not painful.
Just—
Too much information.
He pulled his head away.
Nessa withdrew instantly.
“Sensitive?”
“Yes.”
“That’s normal.”
Adrian looked at her.
“For Aniels?”
“For anyone with external auricular structures like yours.”
That was such a medical answer that Adrian almost smiled.
Almost.
She examined the other ear more quickly.
Then stepped back.
“Tail injuries?”
Adrian looked behind himself.
“I don't think so.”
“Any numbness?”
“No.”
“Pain?”
“No.”
“Can you move it deliberately?”
Adrian tried.
The tail moved.
Too far.
It knocked lightly against the cabinet.
Nessa looked at it.
Adrian looked at it.
“Yes.”
Nessa's mouth twitched.
“Good.”
Adrian lowered his arm.
His tail curled behind one leg.
Nessa made another note.
Then her expression became more serious.
“There are a few other things I would normally check given the condition you arrived in.”
Adrian's stomach tightened.
“What things?”
“General trauma. Signs of additional injury.”
He waited.
Nessa chose her words carefully.
“In areas I haven't examined.”
Adrian stared at her.
It took several seconds.
Then he understood.
“Oh.”
His face became hot.
“No.”
Nessa nodded immediately.
“No examination?”
“No. I mean—”
Adrian stopped.
He knew what she thought.
Or at least he suddenly understood part of it.
Barefoot.
Nearly naked.
Restrained.
Drugged.
Injured.
Found in a forest.
Fuck.
“No,” he repeated. “Nothing happened like that.”
Nessa's face remained neutral.
“Okay.”
“You don't believe me.”
“I do.”
The answer came immediately.
Adrian looked at her.
“If you tell me you don't need that examination, we don't do it.”
“That isn't what I meant.”
“I know.”
He wasn't sure she did.
Nessa sat back on the stool.
“Would you like your shirt back?”
“Yes.”
Adrian pulled it on.
The fabric dropped into place.
He immediately felt better.
Nessa waited until he had the jacket on too.
“There are no injuries here that require emergency treatment.”
Relief came faster than Adrian expected.
“Your ankle needs rest. Your ribs need time. I'll clean and dress the cuts. I'd like blood samples eventually because you don't know what substances you were given.”
Adrian tensed again.
“Eventually.”
She emphasized the word.
“We don't have to do it now.”
Adrian thought of needles.
Of silver fluid.
Black and blue.
“Not now.”
“Not now.”
She wrote it down.
Nessa cleaned one of the cuts on his forearm.
Then she glanced at her notes.
“I need a little medical history. Just what you know.”
Adrian nodded.
“Any medical conditions?”
The answer came automatically.
Then stopped before it reached his mouth.
He knew his medical history.
He knew every boring part of it.
Old injuries. Childhood illnesses. The occasional prescription. Things doctors had asked him a hundred times before.
But Nessa wasn't asking about Adrian Voss.
She was asking about the body sitting in front of her.
“I don't know.”
Nessa's pen paused.
“Allergies?”
Adrian looked at his hand.
“I don't know.”
“Regular medication?”
“I don't know.”
Another pause.
Nessa didn't react beyond writing something down.
“Previous surgeries?”
Adrian almost answered.
Then he remembered the missing scars.
The smooth skin where pieces of his history should have been.
“I don't know.”
This time Nessa looked up.
Adrian could see the question forming.
She changed it.
“Do you have access to your medical records?”
“No.”
“Do you know where they might be?”
“No.”
“All right.”
She returned to the page.
Adrian watched her write.
For some reason, those questions had been worse than the ones about the restraints.
He had answers.
That was the problem.
He could have told her about doctors he'd seen, injuries he'd had, every ordinary piece of medical history accumulated over thirty-eight years.
None of it necessarily belonged to this body.
Nessa set the pen down.
“We can leave the rest for later.”
Adrian nodded.
She wrapped his ankle, gave him instructions to rest it and handed him basic pain medication still sealed in its packaging. She explained what it was, the dosage, and what side effects to watch for.
Adrian turned the packet over in his hand.
“Is this safe for me?”
Nessa paused.
It was a reasonable question.
More reasonable than Adrian wanted it to be.
“At that dose, I don't see anything that concerns me based on the examination. But if you'd rather not take it until we know more, don't.”
Adrian put the packet in his pocket.
“Okay.”
No injections.
No scans.
No restraints.
When they were finished, Adrian stood.
His ankle felt more stable with the wrap.
Nessa cleaned her hands.
“I'd like to see you again tomorrow.”
Adrian looked at her.
“Why?”
“To make sure nothing gets worse.”
A pause.
“And I'd like to do a more complete assessment when you're ready.”
“What kind of assessment?”
“Nothing dramatic. Height, weight, blood pressure. Basic sensory function. We can establish what's normal for you instead of guessing.”
Normal for you.
Adrian looked down at himself.
That seemed optimistic.
Nessa must have noticed something in his expression.
“We can take it slowly.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
She opened the door.
Bruno was sitting against the opposite wall.
The chair beneath him looked considerably less confident about the arrangement than the one upstairs.
The bear looked up.
“Everything all right?”
Adrian nodded.
And, unexpectedly, he was glad to see him.
Bruno stood.
The chair survived.
Barely.
They started back down the corridor.
For several steps neither spoke.
Then Adrian looked up at him.
“You thought…”
Bruno's ears shifted.
Adrian stopped.
Bruno stopped too.
“That something else happened.”
Bruno was silent for a moment.
“We didn't know what happened.”
“But you thought it.”
“We considered it.”
Adrian looked away.
Suddenly the distance.
The open doors.
The visible hands.
Nobody touching him.
The receptionist standing and sitting again at Bruno's signal.
Nessa asking permission before every movement.
It all rearranged itself.
“You think I was…”
He couldn't finish.
Bruno spared him from having to.
“We think someone held you against your will.”
“They did.”
“We think they restrained you.”
“They did.”
“We think they gave you substances without your consent.”
“Yes.”
“And we know you were found injured in a forest wearing almost nothing.”
Adrian said nothing.
Bruno's voice remained quiet.
“I don't know what happened to you.”
Adrian looked at him.
“But I'm not going to assume the least serious explanation just because it's easier.”
That landed harder than Adrian expected.
He looked down the corridor.
“I wasn't…”
“I know.”
“No. You don't.”
Bruno waited.
Adrian almost said it.
They changed me.
The words reached the back of his throat.
He imagined Bruno asking how.
He imagined explaining the chamber.
The procedures.
The mirror.
He imagined saying what he had looked like before.
Adrian closed his mouth.
Bruno didn't ask.
After a moment, Adrian started walking again.
Bruno followed.
They reached the small room.
The tray had been cleared away.
Adrian sat.
His tail moved automatically before he did.
He noticed only after he was already comfortable.
Bruno returned to the surviving armchair.
Adrian looked at him.
“Can I ask something?”
“Of course.”
“What happens if you can't find out who I am?”
Bruno was quiet.
Not because he didn't know.
Because he was deciding how much of the answer Adrian needed.
“Nothing today.”
Adrian frowned.
“That's not an answer.”
“No.”
Bruno leaned back carefully.
The chair creaked.
“But it's the answer that matters today.”
Adrian waited.
“You're not under arrest. You're not being detained. You don't need to prove who you are before you're allowed to eat or sleep.”
“And later?”
“Later we work out documentation. Temporary status if we need to. We search the systems. Missing persons. Immigration. Portal records. Aniel registries where we have access.”
Adrian's stomach tightened at missing persons.
Bruno continued.
“If there's someone looking for you, we may find them.”
Adrian looked toward the window.
His mother.
Mara.
Jonas.
Work.
Someone had noticed.
Of course someone had noticed.
How long had he been gone?
He still didn't know.
Bruno seemed to mistake his silence.
“We don't contact anyone without talking to you first.”
Adrian nodded slowly.
Missing persons.
The words remained.
Somewhere, in some database, there might already be a photograph of Adrian Voss.
Human.
Male.
Thirty-eight.
Missing.
Adrian looked at the pale hand resting on his knee.
For the first time since the forest, a thought occurred to him that had nothing to do with escaping.
He didn't need to tell Bruno who he was.
He didn't even know if he could.
But he could ask.
Not yet.
The idea alone made his heart beat faster.
Somewhere out there, Adrian Voss might already be missing.
And Adrian needed to know. New chapters come out on novelping.com first.