Chapter 20 #2
I’m surprised to not feel claws digging into my hide, but a quick glance shows me that Zeke is keeping the snake occupied, lunging at Jake with his giant jaws before evading any retaliation with a sway of his long neck.
“I got this yellow belly,” Zeke rumbles as he snaps again at Jake. “Go get your boy.”
I snarl, bracing my forepaws against his writhing tail as I rip into Jake’s body. I feel the solid press of bone against my tongue and bite down hard, shaking my head furiously until I feel that bone disconnect.
Jake screams again as the section of tail under one paw goes limp, and I drop it. The damn thing is partially severed, but the damage isn’t near enough to curb the bloodlust that’s racing through my veins.
“This coward touched my mate, violated him. He dies by my hand.” Jake twists toward me, mouth opening wide as he ejects a stream of pale-yellow liquid. It hits me on the side of the face, barely missing my eye, and it burns like fire.
I yelp, jerking away and shaking my head furiously, but the burning persists. I stumble away, pawing at my head desperately. Fucking stupid of me to forget that some Naga can spit acid, and now here I am with my skin feeling like it’s melting off.
I’ve been at the business end of a lot of pain, but nothing compares to the agony of the acid eating away at my flesh. My back paws splash down into a shallow puddle of water, and I immediately turn and dunk the side of my head into it.
The relief isn’t instantaneous, but the pain subsides. I pull myself out of the water, shaking the excess off what remaining fur I have on my head as I turn back to the fight still going on between the wyvern and the snake.
Despite the fact the last six feet of Jake’s snake form is partially severed and completely useless, he holds his own against Zeke. Slashes along Zeke’s chest and one wing are proof that Jake can easily defend himself against the wyvern, and yet I see no evidence of acid burns on his scales.
“Did you fuck the whore, too?” Jake hisses. “I prefer it when he cries, something about—” Zeke doesn’t let him finish the sentence. He launches himself forward in a fury of claws and wings, and I’m still feet away from them when Jake lets out a wet scream.
Zeke steps away from the snake as I reach them, my breath coming out in pained gasps. The water got rid of the venom, but the wounds are still agonizing. Though not nearly as painful as what Jake is dealing with.
Jake writhes on the ground, his snake half coiling in on itself as much as it can while the last section of his tail drags limply across the dirt.
The cause of Jake’s agony becomes very apparent when I catch sight of his face, or what’s left of it.
His entire lower jaw is gone; just a crushed splinter of bone hanging limply from shredded flesh is left.
His forked tongue hangs down, slapping against the front of his blood-soaked throat.
“That’s one way to do a Colombian necktie.”
Zeke lets out a growl of acknowledgment. “His talking was annoying.”
I approach Jake, grimacing as I shift into my partial form before smiling down at the man. “I believe you have something of mine.”
Jake blinks up at me, his serpentine face flickering between anguish and confusion.
With a wolfen smile, I reach down to where the junction of his thighs would have been in human form, my claws ripping through the pale gray scales of his lower belly.
His eyes widen comically as he realizes what I’m doing, but Zeke appears at my side to hold him down, one of his wing spurs large enough to pin the snake to the ground.
Blood sprays my neck and chest as I dig deeper, until I’m able to grasp the offending appendages. With a viscous yank, I tear them free of his body before stuffing the entire lump of bleeding flesh into what remains of Jake’s mouth.
Jake’s eyes roll, a high-pitched wail whistling out of his open windpipe.
“Get rid of him,” I say to Zeke, backing away from the quivering form of Jake. Zeke doesn’t ask for specifics. Glancing down at the snake, he lets out a rumble before he lunges down, his jaws snapping closed. With a wet crunch and a tug, he rips off an arm, swallowing the limb whole.
Leaving Zeke to fill his stomach, I turn toward the car where I last saw Seth.
The parking lot is empty. My heart drops when I see what remains of Jake’s car.
Clearly, at some point, as I was trying to get the acidic venom off me, the fight had spilled across the vehicle.
The hood is caved in, glass from the shattered windshield covering the ground, one side is partially melted.
Fuck, if the acid did that to the metal, what the hell does my face look like?
Panic starts fluttering in my stomach when I don’t find Seth inside or beneath the vehicle.
Shaking my head, I force the dread to the back of my mind, heading back to where I last saw my mate.
His scent is thick here, and I pull it into my lungs.
The mix of pain and terror has my heart clenching, and I have to believe that he’s alive.
Despite the obvious smears of blood along the ground, I refuse to consider the possibility that he succumbed to his wounds.
The sounds of crunching bones and ripping meat fade as I follow Seth’s scent into the forest, my paws nearly silent on the dead weeds and new growth.
Soft sobbing catches my attention, and I follow the sounds to a fallen log.
The pine had fallen long ago, a crisscrossing of skeletal branches hiding a small hollow where the limbs had shattered upon impact.
“Seth?” My voice comes out a guttural whisper, and I wince when Seth gasps and goes quiet. Why the hell didn’t I shift back fully into human form before talking?
“Fr…Frankie?” The hesitancy in his voice makes me whimper, and I drop to my stomach and practically belly crawl to the small opening.
I poke my nose through the branches, my wolf whining pathetically.
It’s almost pitch black beneath the thick fall of branches, and there isn’t enough light from the moon for even my supernatural eyesight to see him as anything more than a darker form against the blackness.
Hands gently trace the side of my jaw, and even though the touch is painful against my burns, I press my head closer.
The smell of blood is intense, and I whimper again, wanting to force myself deeper under the fallen tree so that I can wrap my body around his and never let him out of my sight again.
Seth moves, pine needles rustling around, and I back out when he pushes gently.
My ears flatten against my head as he drags himself out, and I can finally see him.
His fingers are bruised and bloody, nails ripped off from clawing at the pavement.
He has abrasions and bruises across his face and arms. His clothes are shredded, dried blood caking one hip, and I lean forward and lick the deep scratches.
A choked sob escapes him as he gazes at me, his eyes red-rimmed. He gently touches the burnt side of my face, tears trailing down his cheeks, before he throws his arms around my neck.
“You’re really here. You came after me, and you’re here.” He collapses against me, body heaving with wracking sobs.
Before I can consciously decide to shift, my muscles and bones are snapping and remolding until I’m kneeling in my human form.
I wrap my arms around Seth as he breaks down in my arms, whispering nonsensical things in his ear.
I don’t know if he’s listening, I don’t even know what I’m telling him, I’m just offering the comfort of my voice and the solidity of my arms.
Eventually, Seth calms down, his breaths evening out as he passes out from exhaustion.
“How is he?” Zeke asks quietly, and I glance over my shoulder at the other man.
He’s back in his human form, blood splattered across his face and chest. I keep my gaze firmly trained on those dark eyes of his.
While most shifters don’t seem to care about nudity, I don’t tend to make a habit of ogling my co-workers.
Especially not in situations like this one.
“I need to get him to a doctor. Maybe contact that therapist of yours. After what happened…” My throat closes up as I look down at the sleeping form of Seth. He will need to talk to someone. Someone that isn’t me.
Slowly, I get to my feet, cradling Seth against my chest like a child, mindful of all his injuries.
Zeke helps, guiding me along and ensuring I don’t jar the man in my arms. We make our way down the abandoned road.
I’m grateful that Zeke is here, keeping his attention on our surroundings, as I can barely tear my gaze away from Seth’s sleeping face.
What will his reaction be when he wakes up? Will he be okay? Will he still want me?
I won’t blame him if he doesn’t. The sort of trauma he just experienced won’t be easy to heal from. Physically, yes, but mentally? He’s got a long road ahead of him.
And I pray he lets me stay by his side as he recovers.