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Stephen stared in horror at the soul mark just behind his patient’s ear.
No. No.
His hands trembled and he took a step back. The patient on the table had less than 50% chance of survival, even with surgery. He needed the best hands… he needed Stephen.
“Doctor Strange, are we ready to begin?”
Stephen swallowed. “Someone get Doctor West,” he said. “He needs to scrub in and replace me.” His patient needed the best, but Stephen’s hands were tied—he legally couldn’t operate on his soulmate.
Stephen didn’t even know him. Now he might not ever have the chance.