by V T Bonds
I stuff the fabric against the oozing slice over the meat of his shoulder and shuffle my body until my knees rest near the top of his head.
“Are you cussing?”
My shriek shocks me just as much as his voice does. It cuts short on a sob, my control gone.
His rumble of concern only makes me cry harder, the sweet relief coursing through me trampled by the adrenaline and terror making me quake.
“You are cussing!”
His syllables don’t match his normal cadence, the slur scaring me.
“Shut up and purr, damn it. You’re fucking hurt and I can’t stand it. Don’t move!”
Those are my thoughts, but my voice holds such manic terror I almost don’t recognize it.
“Ooh, bossy. You must need me to pin you down and knot you.”
“Of course I need your knot, but you won’t be able to give it to me if you don’t stop bleeding everywhere!”
Movement to my right sends me back into the height of panic.
My growl sears my throat as I promise retribution should the enemy attempt to come closer.
Vander’s smooth voice lowers my hackles.
“Anastasia, I have a medical kit.”
I meet slate gray eyes and fight back the urge to growl again.
One breath fills my lungs, the acrid stench doing nothing to calm my nerves.
Jumoke’s sloppy purr hitches, cracking my soul in two.
“Please help him. Help me.”
I can’t lower my knife. My mind knows this Alpha is a friend, but my instincts demand I protect my injured mate to my dying breath.
“Anastasia.”
I swing wide eyes to Shya’s bright pink irises.
“Give Jumoke a kiss. Hold his head steady while you do.”
Her soft, high-pitched voice and gentle wave of support break through my defenses.
My blade clatters to the concrete as I stoop down to my lifemate’s face.
I peel his mask off as carefully as I can with my shaky fingers, grateful for the protection it offered him. His singed hood shows raised, reddened flesh around his ear, but his face seems unharmed.
Looking at him upside down scrambles my brain, but a joyous purr rattles my chest.
His hazel eyes hold his usual mirth, even as his face wears an odd, unfocused expression.
“Hey, my perfect little Omega. Don’t cry for me. I’ll survive.”
“Just purr for me, Jumoke. I need you.”
He grunts as Vander does something to him, but I press my lips softly against his.
The distraction works. He focuses on me, his bright soul awakening at my touch.
I welcome him into my heart’s nest, happy babies cooing in glee as he cuddles them close.
He licks me, urging me to open my mouth, but I merely brush my closed lips side to side over his.
“Damn it, open for me, Omega,” he groans.
I huff and pull myself together, our reunion centering me.
“Careful, young Alpha, before you vex me. I may need to withhold my permission for your entrance into my next nest.”
His chuckle arrows straight to my core, despite my attempts at keeping arousal at bay.
“I’ll just yank you out by your hair and rut you on the floor. Again.”
I hum in enjoyment as we bask in our memories.
“Let them fix you, so we can get back to the Sky-Flyer.”
“You’re so fucking sexy when you’re bossy.”
I smile against his lips, coaxing him to lend me his pain the same way he shoulders my burdens.
He groans before breathing so sharply the resulting airflow bathes my lips.
“We’ve done what we can. Ready?” Vander’s hard tone knots my stomach, but I give Jumoke a quick kiss to reassure myself.
My lifemate’s growl flows through my veins.
“Give me a proper kiss, Anastasia. Please.”
There’s no denying his heartfelt request. I open my mouth and slide my tongue against his, letting go of the reins for a few moments to give him motivation for the agony to come.
When I pull back, his moan mirrors my own.
“Still love when you go all soft and gooey like that too. Your submission makes me hard.”
I huff a little laugh and stroke his hair, uncaring when the burns on my covered palms send blinding heat up my arms.
“My ridiculous, foolhardy Alpha. Only you would want to be aroused at a time like this.”
“When you’re involved, I’m always aroused.”
Bright warmth infuses my chest, strengthening my purr.
“Support his head, Anastasia. I’ll have to carry him.”
I drag my gaze away from Jumoke’s dancing hazel eyes to meet Vander’s determined gray irises.
I swallow the wave of fear threatening to drown me.
A part of me hoped my lifemate would jump up and be miraculously well enough to move of his own volition. His banter fooled me into thinking he’s fine.
I nod my understanding to Vander, then dart my eyes to Evie.
An illogical part of me wants to snarl and warn her away from my Alpha, but we need her strength.
I send thanks to her, sensing the turbulent emotions frothing behind her carefully crafted control, and help stabilize Jumoke’s neck as they roll him over.
Dirk steps forward, one thigh wrapped in thick white bandages. A crimson stain slowly grows in the center, matching the dark stain on his arm binding. When he acts as though he intends to help lift Jumoke, Shya steps in front of him.
He opens his jaw to speak, but I cut him off.
“No, Dirk. Watch our backs. Get Shya to safety.”
He swallows his upset as calculation flicks through his eyes. He nods in agreement.
Even as he groans from being lifted, Jumoke’s snide remark lightens the heaviness of our situation.
“Letting my Omega boss you too, eh Dirk?”
Evie chuckles while hoisting him up onto Vander’s shoulders.
“Cripes, Jumoke. Keep up with that and Shya may gut you for pointing out flaws in her Alpha,” she says while running her hand over Vander’s butt.
“No need. My Alpha is perfect.” Shya’s quip comes so fast and holds so much honesty, everyone’s stress levels lower.
“So is my Omega,” Jumoke murmurs as I kiss his temple.
Worry leaks into my smile as his agony grows with each movement.
Vander’s voice snaps us into action.
“Evie, take the lead. Anastasia, stay close on my heels. Dirk and Shya, don’t lag. Onward.”
I run my fingers through Jumoke’s hair as Vander steps away.
Although the space between us hurts, watching his teammate carry him hurts worse. To see my Alpha so weak fills me with trepidation.
Every step shoots agony through him, the pain so terrible it wafts through our bond and infects my own organs.
Evie darts around a Sky-Flyer only to halt so fast Vander almost collides with her.
I veer to the side and twist my shoulders to avoid hitting Jumoke’s head.
Sucking in a torturous breath, I let it out in a rush as I see why Evie stopped.
Britani’s silver locks gleam in the scattered fires from the explosion. Her silent companion seems like a shadow moving amidst the flames.
They’re both covered in sweat. It soaks their suits and runs down their faces inside their masks.
Sand cakes them from their hoods to their boots.
“We came as fast as we could, but everything turned to chaos,” Britani gasps between labored breaths.
“We know. Kwame, take Jumoke at the halfway mark. Let’s head back,” Evie snaps out, her feet already moving.
Britani brushes shoulders with me, leaving a poof of sand in our wake. I absorb her silent comfort, needing the support more than I wish to convey.
My years of standing alone fade away as I run surrounded by the most wonderful people in the universe.
A tidal wave of angst rushes f
rom me as I release my pent-up worry.
There’s no reason to hold on to it anymore. I’m not alone. I’ll never be alone again.
Shya sucks in gallons of my fear, her eagerness to mingle with and love me astounding. Britani scoops the fierce foam of wrath into her wildness, stroking my soul with understanding. Evie’s silent storm whisks away the fear, replacing it with her unshakable confidence. Nova, so very far away, absolves my pain with purpose.
My family will always be ready to lift me up. They’d drag me from the bowels of hell, just as Jumoke did, if it meant I stayed with them.
Bolstered by the shedding of negativity and buoyant from their compassion, the weight leaves my feet, allowing me to keep up with those around me.
Kwame darts to the front, pushing open the hatch and holding it until everyone runs through.
The wind’s fury doesn’t faze me, even as sand clogs my nostrils and my boots sink into the loose surface.
Climbing up the first incline proves daunting, and when I get to the top, worry for Shya turns my gaze her way.
I glimpse Kwame scooping her up and tucking her against his side, but my hair tie comes loose in the air current cresting the dune and sends my matted locks in my face. I lose sight of them, but Britani eases the twisting worry in our web.
Her unhinged side hates seeing her Alpha touching another Omega, but she pushes the rampage away and flicks encouragement along our links.
It helps that he still has his mask on and can’t smell her.
Her strong fingers grasp my bicep and urge me forward.
Dirk’s unhappy gratefulness resonates out from him, and I send tendrils of gentle comfort his way, commiserating with him.
I can’t carry my lifemate to safety either.
As miles pass under our feet, my lungs burn with my harsh breathing and my thighs scream in protest. My shoulder and hip complain as well, but I tuck the agony into tiny boxes and send awe-filled love at the tiny being growing in my womb.
Safely tucked away from this mayhem, my babe grows.
Jumoke’s breathtaking reverence fills me, even as his pain threatens to drown him.
Kwame darts forward, passing me with ease, and I realize he, Vander, and Evie hold back their speed so Britani and I can keep up.
Yes, even carrying my lifemate, Vander has no trouble keeping this brutal pace. He could go faster if we weren’t slowing him down.
“You must get him to safety. Whatever he needs, he needs it now. Take him and go. Leave us behind.”
My heart quails as I say the words, but he’s on the verge of losing consciousness again.
Kwame’s eyes meet mine over his shoulder, the battle in his thoughts playing within his chocolate irises.
Vander keeps running, even as he calculates our options.
His even voice strengthens my resolve to part with my lifemate—if he isn’t winded despite carrying my hefty Alpha, then he shouldn’t be wasting time going slowly for us.
“We can’t leave you so vulnerable. We’ll go together.”
I turn my attention to Evie, sensing her computing our options.
“Vander,” her sharp tone tightens his expression, but after a few seconds of silent communication, his gray eyes soften, and he nods.
“Kwame, pass Shya to Evie. You’ll watch my back. Double time.”
Kwame’s quiet growl raises the hair on my nape, but Britani snarls at him.
“Go, my lifemate. Save Jumoke,” Britani demands with such fury she drowns out her own worry of parting with him.
“My vicious Britani. Keep your blade at the ready. No foe will survive your wrath. You’ve already proved this.”
I’ve never heard Kwame say so many words at one time, and his melodic voice makes their parting seem more like a song than a tragedy.
As Kwame sprints to Evie, I push my legs faster and catch up with Vander. Spreading my fingers over Jumoke’s scalp, I purr and stroke his cheekbone.
“I love you, my Alpha.”
His faint purr strengthens before he whines and grits his teeth.
“I love you too, Anastasia.”
He wants to say more, but he fights against darkness and can’t spare the energy.
“Your babe will come to no harm. Stay alive, Jumoke. I’ll be by your side in no time, and I’m always in your soul, as you are in mine.”
I let his hair slide through my fingers as I slow my pace, watching as Vander and Kwame disappear into the distance.
Shya’s golden locks trail behind her as Evie carries her on her back, leading us toward safety.
Dirk’s feet stamp into the sand behind us, alerting me to his sluggish movements. I glance back and see his thigh bandage soaked in crimson.
“Britani.”
Her brilliant green eyes flash to mine.
Puffing in exertion as we stumble down a slope, I send my suggestion through our connection. She nods and slows when we reach the bottom.
“Come on, big guy. Let us help,” she says with more gusto than I feel.
His grunt shows how hard he’s focused on keeping his legs moving, and I see his face for the first time.
As white as the little room I lived in for most of my life, he looks closer to death than life with his ashen pallor.
I press my palms under his right shoulder blade while Britani does the same on his other side, both of us straining to add enough momentum for the three of us to reach the top of the hill.
He nearly stumbles as we change altitude, but I push out a breath of relief when he regains his footing and continues down the slope.
With a shock, I realize Kwame already knew how much Dirk was struggling, which is why he whisked Shya away and transferred her to Evie, who runs ahead of us.
She wouldn’t be able to keep it together if she saw how weak Dirk was right now. We’d have no chance to make it to safety.
Each uphill takes more effort. Every downhill proves riskier. Dirk grows more unsteady with each step.
Just as my diaphragm pinches and my lower back begins a slight throbbing, we crest the dune nearest the Sky-Flyer.
Evie slows at the bottom and strides into the dark entrance, not giving Shya a chance to look around.
Britani and I struggle to ease Dirk’s descent down the slope, and I send our distress through our family, searching for an able body to come help us get Dirk safely inside.
Nova responds with a flick of worry.
Seconds later, Seeck’s flaming red hair catches the moonlight as he stalks out of the darkness. Without a word, he loops Dirk’s arm over his shoulder and takes most of his weight.
I heave and fight the need to bend over and vomit, my body unaccustomed to such exertion. Britani settles a hand between my shoulder blades and guides me into the Sky-Flyer.
The sound of people shocks me even though I know two parties brought back rescues.
As I walk down the hall and near the infirmary, the number of heartbeats I hear astounds me.
I did not expect so many.
Speeding up so I don’t lose Dirk and Seeck, I don’t even glance into the room.
My connection with Jumoke throbs with pain.
I don’t know how he hasn’t passed out again, but I plan to be by his side before he slides into unconsciousness.
When Seeck turns into the room where Vander interrogated Evie, I dart in after him.
By the time I kneel next to Jumoke’s head, Vander returns from the hygiene bay with sterile hands and a tray of surgical items.
My gut clenches, threatening to expel whatever curdles in my stomach, but I look away and frame my lifemate’s face with my hands.
“I’m here, Jumoke. Let me see your eyes, please.”
His lids lift to reveal dulled hazel irises. His lips part as though he intends to say something, but I tuck a finger under his chin and close his mouth.
“No, love. Hush. We’ll talk later.” My voice refuses to speak louder than a whisper, but one side of his mouth ticks up in a fleeting smile befor
e his eyelids drift down.
Swallowing my panic, I realize Vander pulls an empty syringe away from his arm.
“I have to operate quickly. The anesthesia will only work on him for a few minutes. Leave if you need to,” Vander says in a collected voice, without judgement or expectations.
“I’m staying. What’s wrong with him?”
“The scan showed a ruptured spleen. He needs a splenectomy.”
Frustration flashes across his face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Open surgery is a bitch to recover from, but I don’t have the tools or time for laparoscopy.”
He moves as he speaks, no hesitation as he picks up the scalpel and slices my lifemate open.
I shut my eyes, too many emotions barreling through me to withstand the visual onslaught.
The moment my stomach settles, I lean down and press my cheek against his, taking comfort from his breath ghosting over my ear.
Three words ring between us, our bond glowing despite his inability to move on his own. They swell and grow until they pour from my mouth, over and over again until I chant it like a mantra.
“I love you.”
Chapter Eleven
Anastasia
Even as his breathing quickens from the slow and deep cadence of sleep to someone laboring through pain, I continue whispering to him, unable to stop professing my love.
When his eyelashes move against my temple, I pull back and watch as he opens his eyes and slowly gains awareness.
“Who stabbed me this time?”
I make the weirdest sound, my huff a mix of laughter, relief, and consternation.
“Technically? Vander.”
“Ah. I knew he was out to get me all along. Old bastard.”
“Should have cut deeper,” Vander quips as he stands and walks to the hygiene bay.
For the first time in what feels like millennia, I look away from my lifemate.
A massive mound of blankets rises so far off the in-laid bed that the peak rests higher than the floor.
Dirk’s naked feet stick out of the bottom, his heels propped on the floor. With his body on the mattress, it means his feet rest higher than his heart.
“How’s Dirk?” I ask Vander’s back.