by Lisa Oliver
“Damien, no!” Scott yelled, as Jacob hit him across his face.
Damien stopped, just inside the circle, Matthew at his side.
“Come on out and fight me Damien, if you want your mate to live,” Jacob taunted, as the hand holding the gun twitched against Scott’s skull.
“No Damien. Don’t do it,” Scott yelled again. “That’s what he wants. He wants to see you lose the pack. You have to stay and finish the fight. He just wants you to be a fucking nothing, like him. Fucking finish the fight, Damien!”
Scott’s fighting words earned him another smack around the head, and Damien’s heart stopped in his chest as he saw the trickle of blood coming from Scott’s mouth. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t stay in the ring, fighting to stay the Alpha of his pack, if it meant losing Scott. Fuck, he did love the man, and he wasn’t about to let scum like Jacob take him away.
Looking at Matthew, Damien shook his head. He shimmered, allowing his change back into human. As he went to step out of the circle, he heard Matthew behind him.
“Damien, wait.”
Confused, Damien looked around to see Matthew was also naked in human form. Matthew had always wanted Damien’s pack - he had fought hard enough, often enough, for it. Damien didn’t have any problems leaving Matthew the victor in this. He would be a good Alpha with similar values to Damien, so the humans and the gays in the pack would be protected.
“I yield,” Matthew called out strongly so everyone in the pack could hear. “I yield. You win. Now save your mate.”
“Thank you Matthew,” Damien breathed out, as he ran to where Jacob and Scott were standing. But even as he ran, he heard a shot ring out and Scott slumped to the ground. In a rage, Damien shifted mid stride and landed on Jacob with a sickening thud. It was all over in seconds. Nothing left of Jacob, but a bloodied, unrecognizable lump on the ground. It was only when Damien was satisfied that Jacob was dead, that he shifted and crawled over to where Scott was laying on the ground, Troy by his side. Scott’s head was lying in a pool of blood and the man looked pale and lifeless. Only the tiny rise and fall of Scott’s chest indicated the man was still alive.
“I’ve phoned Shawn,” Troy said urgently. “He’s gonna be alright. Shawn’s coming. He’ll make it all right.”
Troy looked as wrecked as Damien felt. Damien had never been so helpless in his life. Carefully he picked up Scott’s head from the ground and laid it on his lap, slowly stroking the man’s hair. There was so much blood and Scott wouldn’t wake up. He was dying in Damien’s arms, and none of Damien’s power or money, or resources was going to save him. Damien broke inside and he knew if Scott died then his life would be over. Not because of some mating bond, but because he loved this man more than life itself, and life without Scott wasn’t worth living.
For the first time in his life, Damien cried. As he sat, naked on the ground, stroking his mate’s still, pale body, he thought about how he’d wasted so many opportunities to tell the man in front of him how much he was loved. All because of a stupid, stupid vow he had made so many years ago. Tears pouring down his face, Damien would have given anything - anything at all to have the chance to tell Scott that he loved him.
“Damien,” Shawn’s soft, firm voice came from his side. “Damien, you have to let me see him. Let me help.”
“He’s dying,” Damien whispered. “He’s dying and I haven’t told him I loved him yet.”
“Scott’s not going to die, Damien. You’ll have years to love him. But you have to let go of him. I have to see where he’s been hurt.”
“He took a bullet to the head,” Troy said, still sitting on the other side of Scott, his own face wet with tears. “Not many wolves can recover from that.”
“If the shot had been fatal, Scott would have died instantly. Scott’s still breathing, but I have to see where the bullet has gone. Damien, help me, please,” Shawn’s voice finally got through Damien’s fugue and he carefully lifted Scott’s head so that Shawn could see the bloody mess.
Shawn waved his fingers and the blood disappeared, leaving a very definite gouge in the side of Scott’s head. Now the blood was cleaned away, it was clear the wound wasn’t very deep, but it was big.
“Looks like the bullet has sheared off of the skull, rather than penetrated it. Good thing your mate’s got a solid head,” Shawn said smiling up at Damien. “It looks messy, but it’s not fatal, by any means. I’m more concerned with him being unconscious. Was the bullet from close range?”
“Yes,” said Damien, fighting not to remember the moment Scott was shot. The rage he’d felt in that fragment of time was so consuming, his need to kill Jacob so driving, that it drove all other thoughts out of his head.
Troy spoke up. “Jacob had Scott in a head lock and a gun pointed right at his head. But he must have got nervous when he saw Damien coming for him and maybe his hand jerked when he pulled the trigger?”
“Or maybe the Fates weren’t ready for him yet,” Shawn said with a smile. “Scott’s quite a handful.” His hands were waving over the wound, and Damien could see that slowly little pieces of Scott’s head were knitting back together.
“I have to do this slowly,” Shawn explained, “because there are tiny metal bits in the wound and I don’t want to leave any of them in, as the skin would knit over it and could cause an infection.”
Damien sat silently as he watched Shawn work. He didn’t care what Shawn was doing, he just wanted his mate to open his eyes. He heard the pack behind him, and he knew he should speak to them. But he had nothing to say. He should go and thank Matthew for his actions, but he didn’t want to move from Scott’s side. Feeling numb, Damien was breathing only for the moment that Scott woke up.
“Damien,” Kane said from behind him. “The enforcers want to talk to you. They… they’re understandably devastated that Jacob got in here and got so close to Scott. They kinda think you’re going to kill them all and are…”
“I don’t care how they feel right now,” Damien snarled. “I don’t care why it happened, or what caused it. Right now my only fucking concern is my mate, and if they can’t get that through their thick fucking skulls then they might as well kill themselves. I will deal with them later.”
“Sure, Damien. Will you let me handle things while you get Scott sorted?”
Taking a deep breath, Damien tried to make himself care. Malacai was in the city and his enforcers were all in the shit. It made sense for Kane to get things sorted until he… Fuck he didn’t know what he was going to do. He just wanted Scott to wake up!
“Yeah, Kane, thanks. Unusual, I know, but Malacai is in the city and the enforcers, fuck I don’t even want to think about them right now. If you can get one of the enforcers to ring Malacai and tell him to get back here, and maybe get some men to sort out the mess on the lawn, I’ll deal with everything else…soon.” That was all Damien would commit himself too.
He wanted Scott to come right and as far as he was concerned everyone else could go to hell.
Shawn straightened up and rested his hand on Damien’s shoulder. “I’ve got all the metal bits out. The wound is healed. I’m guessing that Scott is still out of it because of the impact of the bullet at such close range, but I’m not sure. He doesn’t have any more physical damage anywhere, so I think now he just needs to rest and I’ll check him again when he wakes up.”
“Can’t you wake him up? With your finger thingy?” Damien asked.
Shawn shook his head. “No Damien, its too risky. His brain took a nasty knock, and while there’s no swelling that I can tell, the brain is a funny organ. Plus he did lose a lot of blood. If I try and shock him awake, it could do him more harm than good. It would be better if he just rested until his brain has processed what’s happened. Once he’s awake, we’ll try and get him to shift, and that should put everything right again.”
“When? How long till he wakes up?”
“I’m sorry, my friend. I don’t know. I’m not an oracle. But I do know he will wake up and he wi
ll be fine. Now, do you want me to zap him up to your room, or do you want to take him. You need some clothes, and a shower, and probably some food.”
“I’ll take him,” Damien snapped. No one was touching his mate except for him. Carefully laying Scott’s head on the ground, he stood up in one fluid motion. Picking Scott up, being careful to support Scott’s head against his chest, Damien strode through the pack grounds, making his way to their home.
All around him, pack members came up, made comments, touched Damien lightly, or simply bowed their heads as Damien went by. Damien didn’t notice. He honestly didn’t care. He had looked after his pack for all of his adult life and while he might not have been the best Alpha in the world, he had never intentionally let his pack down. He knew the people around him were shocked by what had happened. He knew he should be helping them to feel better, and he knew that they probably needed him to take charge. But the only person of importance was in his arms and that was all Damien could focus on.
/~/~/~/~/
A few hours later, Troy knocked and came into the bedroom. He saw Damien sitting on the bed, with Scott laid out - his head resting on Damien’s lap. Damien was stroking Scott’s hair and when he looked up at Troy, Troy was shocked to see the man’s haunted expression. Damien looked like shit.
“I bought you some food, Damien. Shawn said you should eat something,” Troy said quietly.
“Not hungry.”
Putting the tray on the dresser, Troy walked over and sat in a big chair, facing the bed.
“You know Scott’s going to be pissed off, when he wakes up and finds out you’ve not been looking after yourself.”
“I’m fine.” Damien had gone back to staring at Scott’s face and was carefully tracing Scott’s features with his gentle fingers. Troy watched Damien for a minute, and then said, “You love him, don’t you?”
Damien nodded, but he didn’t look up.
“And you haven’t told him?”
Damien shook his head in the negative.
“Aren’t you a fucking idiot then?”
That made Damien look up. He narrowed his gaze at Troy for a minute and then said, “Weren’t you ever taught to watch your mouth when talking to an Alpha?”
Troy snorted. “You might be the amazing Damien, but you’re still just my brother-in-law to me.”
Giving a hint of a chuckle, Damien said, “Okay, brother-in-law, then I’m an idiot. I know it. You know it. Probably the whole Cloverleah pack and half of the San Antonio pack know it. I should’ve told him and I will, just as soon as he fucking wakes up.”
“Good,” Troy said simply. “By the way, Kane wanted me to tell you that two of your enforcers, the two by the front gate, were found drugged, but unharmed. Seems Jacob shot them with a tranquilizer gun and then just climbed over the gate.”
“Thanks, Troy. I guess we’ll have to tighten security at the front gate, then?”
“A remote viewing system,” Troy said. “I’m already on it. Your enforcers will be able to monitor the front gate from a room we’ve set up in the pack house here. It’ll mean whoever is on duty will be able to see trouble, without being in the line of fire.”
“I do appreciate it Troy, but right now all I’m worried about is Scott. I just want him to wake up.”
Troy stood up. “He’s not far off it. Aren’t you using your mind link?”
Looking stunned for a minute, Damien slapped the side of his head and went back to watching Scott’s sleeping face. He heard Troy muttering, “Yep, fucking idiot,” as the man walked out the door.
/~/~/~/~/
Scott was definitely warm, and comfortable, but as he went to roll over he realized someone had their bloody hand on his head. WTF? Struggling to open his eyes, he cast a bleary look at whatever was right in front of him and was met with the worried look of his mate. Closing his eyes again, because for some reason opening them took a lot of effort, Scott took a deep breath and inhaled his mate’s scent.
“Come on love, wake up,” he heard Damien say. “Come back to me, come on. Open those eyes, please.”
Forcing his eyes open, Scott said, “Did I hit my head, ‘cos I’m sure I just heard you call me love.”
“Actually yes, you did hit your head. Or rather you got shot in the head. Don’t you remember?”
Closing his eyes again, because now his head was hurting, Scott tried to think what he remembered. The Alpha fight. Some guy grabbing him, with a gun.
“I got shot?” Scott said as his eyes flew open.
“Yes, love.” Damien stroked his hand over Scott’s hair. “Right across that solid noggin of yours. Thank goodness you’re a hard head. How are you feeling?”
“You did it again. You called me love,” Scott persisted, even though, now he thought about it, his head did ache a bit.
“Sure did,” said Damien steadily. “Because you are - my love, I mean. Now, how are you feeling?”
“Hang on, hang on, hang on! You love me?” Scott tried to sit up, and Damien quickly caught Scott under the arms and pulled him up against his chest. Tipping Scott’s head back, so Scott could meet his eyes, Damien said, “Yes Scott, I love you. I’m just sorry I didn’t tell you before.”
Staring into Damien’s eyes, Scott could see the sincerity of the man’s words. Damien said that he loved him - his mate loved him.
Allowing his head to fall on Damien’s chest, Scott just said, “Wow.”
Scott felt Damien’s chest ripple as the man chuckled. “Your mate tells you that he loves you, for the first time I might add, and all you can say is ‘wow’?”
“Yep, I think that covers it,” Scott said cheekily, peeking up at Damien. “Wow, my mate loves me, which is so totally awesome I might add. Wow, I love my mate back, so that is double awesome and wow, I think my head really hurts, but I don’t care because my mate loves me. Yep, wow.”
“Wow it is then,” Damien said fondly as he brushed a kiss on Scott’s forehead. Scott closed his eyes at the contact and moaned quietly. “Now let me go and get Shawn to check you over. He said you’ll probably have to shift before you feel one hundred percent.”
“Stay here a minute, will you? I just want you to hold me.” Scott burrowed his head into Damien’s chest.
“For as long as you want, love,” Damien said softly. “For as long as you want.”
Chapter Thirty One
By the time Scott and Damien arrived in New York, Scott was feeling more like his perky self. Damien wanted to take Scott shopping for a new suit, among other things, so after having a long and happy lunch at the hotel with the Cloverleah pack, the two men took off for a leisurely walk around the local stores.
Scott was curious about how Damien would act with him around humans. His only interactions with the man up to that point had either been at the pack, the Cloverleah pack or in the club. All of which were populated with wolves. Here, on the streets of New York, the streets were awash with nothing but people; not a hint of a wolf in sight.
Damien adapted to the cityscape far better than Scott did. While Scott didn’t mind being around people, New York was so big and so busy. There were people everywhere and the smells were enough to drive Scott’s wolf to a distraction. Damien though, took it all in his stride. He was polite and friendly with retail assistants. He had no problem with touching Scott in public. Little things like putting his hand on Scott’s back to guide him. Opening doors for him. Holding his hand when they crossed the road.
Of course given Damien’s size, no one was going to start any trouble with the man’s obvious sexual orientation. On the city streets, Damien still retained the look of a wolf. Restrained, to be sure, but clearly visible to anyone who looked at him. The power in the way he walked, the way he commanded attention from anyone they interacted with, his upright bearing and his overriding self confidence in everything he did, had Damien turning heads, male and female alike.
The little city twink that served them when Scott was trying on his suit, did try it on with Damien. The m
an had been in a complete flutter since the two of them had walked in the door and it took all of Scott’s control not to growl at the simpering little fop. Not even the knowledge that Damien wasn’t interested in the slightest made Scott feel any better. As he was trying on the clothes Damien had picked out for him, his wolf hearing picked up the blatant flirting.
“Gosh, we don’t get many men like you in here,” the little man was saying to Damien. “Are you sure you don’t need anything at all while your friend is busy?”
“Why don’t you pop that ass of yours into the changing room to see if my husband needs any assistance? I don’t need anything from you.” Damien’s meaning was clear.
“You’re married?” The little twink squeaked.
“And one hundred percent faithful,” Damien allowed a small snarl to accompany his words. “Now go tend to my husband or we’ll take our business elsewhere.”
Considering Scott was trying on thousands of dollars worth of clothes at the time, the little man must have got the message and seconds later appeared, red faced, in Scott’s dressing room. Scott thought about teasing him, but decided he wasn’t worth the effort, even though the smell of the twink’s arousal was really strong.
“Your husband said you might need some help,” the twink said carefully, looking anywhere than at Scott. Yes, Scott was well aware what Damien’s snarl could do to a man. Lord knows it worked on him often enough.
“I think you’re the one who might need help,” Scott said as he looked blatantly at the little man’s crotch. The man’s face got even redder and he ducked his head. “It’s okay pup, my husband has that effect on most people.” God, could the man get any redder in the face.
Scott turned to the mirror, to look at his latest outfit but he kept an eye on the twink through the reflection.
“You know,” he said conversationally as he tweaked at the tie. He hated wearing a tie, but for Angel Bandures’ wedding he really didn’t have a choice. “My husband used to eat little darlings like you for breakfast before he met me. You are so his type, or you were.”