4. Doyle
CHAPTER FOUR
DOYLE
It didn't take long to clean up the stragglers. I heard Ivan's roar in the distance, followed by Draven's answering growl.
Those two would be retreating to Sky Stead to report to Zane, but I would follow after them later.
I flew back to where Michael was. Seeing the truck made me relax. I landed, changing forms.
It was energy-draining, changing forms so many times in a single day. New dragon shifters like Draven could only do it once a day, but for me, the effort was worth it.
After putting on the pants I discarded earlier, I looked into the truck. I panicked momentarily, seeing it was empty.
Then that wonderful scent wrapped around me again, followed by laughter.
I followed the sound and found Michael sitting around a fire among Mayhem and his guys.
It looked like Mayhem or one of his bears had given Michael new clothes, because instead of the rags he was previously wearing, Michael was now dressed in an oversized hoodie and jogging pants.
Calm down, I reminded myself, and walked to where they were.
"...and I pounded this warlock to the dust," a bear shifter was bragging to Michael, who was listening to him intently.
Jealousy filled me to the brim. Mayhem saw me, then nudged the bear shifter, who spotted me and gulped.
I returned my attention to Michael, who leapt to his feet when he saw me.
I blinked when he immediately wrapped his skinny arms around me. He felt so warm, I thought, enclosing my arms around him.
"Doyle, I'm so glad you're safe," he whispered.
I held him tighter, savoring the closeness.
"I'm glad you're safe too," I whispered back, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief and joy.
He pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at me. His blue eyes were bright with unshed tears.
"I thought... I thought I might never see you again," he admitted, his voice breaking. “That you’d forget me and fly away with the other dragons.”
I brushed a strand of hair from his face, my fingers lingering on his cheek.
"I promised you, didn't I?" I asked him.
He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "You did."
Mayhem and the others gave us a respectful distance, but I could feel their curious eyes on us. I didn't care. In this moment, all that mattered was Michael.
"Let's get you somewhere safer," I said, my voice firm but gentle.
Michael nodded again, his hand slipping into mine. I felt a surge of protectiveness as we walked back to the truck. Mayhem called out to me, and I turned.
“The keys to the truck,” he explained.
“Thanks, Mayhem,” I told him, grateful for the ride.
I didn’t think I could change forms again.
“Tell Zane that Venom would contact him soon,” Mayhem said.
“Will do,” I replied.
The journey back to Sky Stead was uneventful. Michael had fallen asleep during the ride, his head resting against the window, and the adrenaline of battle had faded, leaving me tired.
After driving for hours, we reached the outskirts of a small town. I noticed the neon sign of a roadside diner.
I glanced over at Michael, who was still sound asleep, his breathing even and peaceful. I hated to wake him, but we both needed to eat, especially Michael who was all skin and bones.
Gently, I shook his shoulder. "Michael, wake up. We're stopping for some food,” I told him.
He rubbed at his eyes, blinking sleepily. "Where are we?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep.
"A diner," I said, pulling into the parking lot. "Thought we could use a break and get something to eat."
He nodded, glancing at the diner with a hint of apprehension.
"Do you want to eat inside?" I asked, already guessing his answer.
Michael hesitated, his gaze shifting from the brightly lit interior of the diner to the relative safety of the truck.
"I think I'd prefer to eat in the truck,” he admitted softly.
I nodded, understanding his reluctance. "That's fine. I'll go grab us something. Any preferences?" I asked.
He shook his head. "Anything's fine. I'm not picky,” he answered.
I gave him a reassuring smile before stepping out of the truck and heading into the diner. The warm, greasy smell of fried food hit me immediately, making my stomach growl.
I ordered a couple of burgers, fries, and drinks, paying the cashier before heading back to the truck with the bag of food.
Climbing back into the driver's seat, I handed Michael his share.
"Here you go. I hope you like burgers,” I told him.
He smiled, the first genuine smile I'd seen from him. "Thank you, Doyle."
We ate in companionable silence, the only sounds the crunching of fries and the occasional sip of soda.
I watched Michael out of the corner of my eye, noting how he savored each bite as if it were the best meal he'd ever had.
Given what he'd been through, it probably was. As we finished our food, the sky grew darker, stars beginning to appear above us. The peacefulness of the moment was a stark contrast to the chaos earlier.
"Feeling better?" I asked, crumpling up my empty burger wrapper.
Michael nodded. "Yeah, a lot better. Thank you for this,” he said.
"Anytime," I replied, starting the truck again. "Let's get back on the road. We're not too far from Sky Stead now."
Michael settled back into his seat, his eyelids drooping once more. I reached over and gently squeezed his hand.
"We'll be there soon," I promised.
After parking the truck in Zane’s driveway, I gently shook Michael awake. He rubbed at his eyes, looking around in confusion for a moment.
"We're here," I said softly, helping him out of the truck.
“Here?” Michael echoed, his voice still groggy.
“Sky Stead. This is my pack’s territory and my current home. I explained it earlier,” I said with a smile.
“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” Michael admitted, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.
“You shouldn’t let your guard down that easily among strangers,” I told him, my tone a mix of concern and teasing.
“But…you don’t feel like a stranger,” Michael said softly.
You don’t feel like one either, I thought but said nothing yet. We entered Zane’s house, and I could hear the kids in the living room, arguing over who could pick the next show to watch.
The familiar sounds of domestic chaos were both comforting and jarring after the day's events.
Michael looked a little overwhelmed, so I guided him to a quieter area—Zane’s study.
The room was filled with books and maps, the scent of old paper and leather adding to the sense of calm.
Zane must’ve heard us enter because he soon joined us in the office, his presence commanding as always.
He looked at Michael for a long moment, his expression a mix of curiosity and wariness.
I understood why he would be cautious; after all, I brought a stranger to his home, to our pack. But I didn’t think Michael was a threat. Michael was a victim, not an enemy.
“This is Michael. Michael, this is Zane, the lead alpha of our pack,” I introduced, keeping my tone neutral yet respectful.
“N-nice to meet you,” Michael mumbled, looking downright terrified of Zane.
I couldn’t blame him; Zane was leaking some of his intimidating aura. I shot Zane a glare, and he noticed, toning it down.
"Get some rest," Zane said, his eyes finally taking in Michael's state with a hint of concern. "You've both earned it."
I led Michael upstairs, away from the noise of the first floor. I could hear Ivan and Draven arguing in another room and decided to let Zane deal with them.
My first priority was Michael. I guided him to the empty guest room next to the one I was currently occupying.
“You can stay here. I’m right next door,” I assured him, opening the door to a cozy, well-furnished room.
He looked around, his eyes wide with wonder and a hint of apprehension.
"Is this... is this really happening?" he asked softly, almost as if he was afraid to believe it.
"Yes," I said, squeezing his hand gently. "You're safe now."
He let out a shaky breath and sat down on the edge of the bed, the weight of the day's events finally catching up with him.
"I don't even know how to thank you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
I sat beside him, my hand still holding his.
"You don't have to," I replied. "Just promise me you'll stay here, stay safe. We'll figure out the rest together."
He looked up at me, his eyes filled with gratitude and something else—something that made my heart race.
"I promise," he said, his voice stronger this time.
Our faces were inches apart, the air between us charged with unspoken words and emotions. The pull I felt towards him was undeniable.
Slowly, I leaned in, giving him plenty of time to pull back if he wanted to. But he didn't.
His breath hitched, and then his lips met mine in a gentle, tentative kiss that quickly deepened. The kiss was everything—comforting, passionate, a promise of something more.
When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathing heavily, our foreheads resting against each other.
"I'm glad you're here," I whispered, my voice hoarse with emotion.
"Me too," he replied, a small, genuine smile spreading across his face.
I stood up, reluctantly breaking the moment.
"Get some sleep. I'll be right next door if you need anything,” I said.
He nodded, his eyes already heavy with exhaustion. I turned off the light and quietly left the room, closing the door behind me. L
eaning against the wall, I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart.
Tonight had changed everything. Michael was no longer just a stranger or a responsibility.
He was someone I cared about deeply, someone I wanted to protect and get to know.
And as I stood there in the quiet hallway, I knew I would do whatever it took to keep him safe and by my side.