Samuel's POV: I watched as that sleazy werewolf pulled out a few bills and tossed them on the bar. With a chorus of whistles and cheers from the other werewolves, he led Naomi away. He ran a hand over her cheek and said with a disgusting smirk, "Don't worry. I will take good care of you." That was it. I couldn't take it anymore. I charged forward and slammed my fist straight into the defenseless werewolf's face. He staggered from the blow. I immediately caught Naomi, keeping her from collapsing. "You son of a—!" The werewolf spat on the ground, eyes burning with rage. "Pathetic scum," I shot back. As a doctor, I could tell right away that Naomi had been drugged. I never expected the bartender to collude with such scum to drug and harm people. "Who the hell do you think you are? Stay out of it," he growled, his face darkening before he shifted into a black wolf. I chuckled, gently setting Naomi down. Then I shifted too, baring my claws as I faced the sleazy drunkard. ... Naomi's POV: I didn't know how long I'd been out, but faint sounds slowly reached my ears. I opened my eyes to find myself in a room I didn't recognize. A wave of panic hit me. I tried to remember what happened, but my mind was blank. "You're awake?" A deep, steady voice spoke. I turned my head and saw a tall, handsome werewolf entering the room, holding a glass of water. Fear gripped me instantly. I tried to sit up, but my limbs felt heavy, making it impossible to move. "Who are you? What did you do to me?" I regretted it. I never should've gone drinking at that bar. Now I'd landed myself in serious trouble.I panicked. I clutched the blanket tightly, completely at a loss for what to do. "Don't be afraid, I'm not a bad guy," he said quickly, noticing how tense I was. He raised his hands in a calming gesture. "I'm Samuel Foster, a doctor. You were drugged at the bar last night—someone almost took you. I brought you here to keep you safe." As he spoke, he pointed to a medical kit by the bed and awkwardly handed me an ID badge. He seemed flustered, clearly in a hurry to explain himself. "You're running a slight fever from the effects of the drug," he said in a low voice, concern visible in his eyes. "You need to rest for a bit." I took the ID badge from him and saw his name—Samuel Foster—clearly printed on it. Glancing down at my rolled-up sleeve, I noticed the bandage on my arm. I looked up at him, studying his face. He didn't seem like a bad guy. "You ... saved me?" I rubbed my temples, trying to recall what had happened at the bar. After a moment, one name came back to me—Kelsey Row. "Actually, I'm a fan. I've seen some of your movies." Samuel picked up the ice pack that had fallen on the bed, pursed his lips, and chuckled. "Yesterday at the bar, I saw that werewolf and the waiter seemed to be discussing something before he took you away. I was worried, so I followed you and that guy indeed had bad intentions. I even fought his wolf, and won, of course." As Samuel spoke, a cold feeling crept over me. The memories from last night were starting to come back, piece by piece. It had to be Kelsey—that shameless bastard—who drugged me. If I hadn't run into Samuel ... I didn't even want to think about what could've happened. I sighed and lowered my gaze as I murmured, "Thank you. If it weren't for you, I ... " Samuel passed me a cup and said softly, "You should be more cautious. Not just because you're a public figure—any woman going to a bar alone needs to stay alert." I nodded slightly and took a sip silently. But then something clicked in my mind. I suddenly sat up and started looking around the room in a rush. Startled by my sudden movement, Samuel quickly set the thermometer aside and asked, "What are you looking for?" "Have you seen my phone?" I asked, trying to stay calm. I'd been out all night—if my manager found out, there was no way I'd get off easy.I turned and spotted it on the nightstand. I rushed over, only to realize it had shut off. I panicked. I vaguely remembered hanging up on my manager last night, and now the phone was off. Great. I was so screwed. What if the company blacklisted me over this? "What's going on?" Samuel asked, noticing I was still frozen by the bed, a hint of worry in his tone. I slowly turned to look up at him, feeling a little guilty, and asked, "Hey, my lifesaver, do you have a charger?"