Chapter Six
Nick woke to Logan’s arms around him, the kind of hold that made it clear Logan never planned to let go. Not that Nick wanted him to. Sunlight slid hot through the gap in the curtain, crawling across the sheets.
He could have sworn the whole room had gone from icebox to sauna in five minutes flat. Summer in Crimson Hollow was no joke, and neither was the man wrapped around him like a weighted blanket.
No cramps. No nausea. No weakness. Each breath came easy, slow, like Nick’s body had finally quit the painful protest it’d been staging all his life.
Didn’t feel hollow.
Didn’t want to puke.
Didn’t even mind being up this early.
Nick rolled to face Logan, careful not to elbow him.
The wolf shifter looked like a damn underwear model, hair all wild, face half-buried in the pillow, stubble covering his jaw.
Logan’s lips were parted, that sweet rumble of sound barely there.
The only thing louder was Nick’s own growling stomach.
He grinned. Not exactly the way he’d pictured waking up after losing his mind and biting the guy, but hell, he’d take it.
Going by the stains on Logan’s neck and the way his shirt was basically in shreds, last night hadn’t been a hallucination. Unless Nick was still dreaming, in which case… Please don’t wake me up. Ever.
At least this dream didn’t involve blood on his chin and cheek.
Nick tried to pull away, but Logan only grumbled and drew him back in, tucking Nick tight into his side.
“You trying to sneak off?” A gruff, sleepy mumble right into Nick’s hair.
“Just thinking about breakfast.” He nuzzled under Logan’s jaw. “Also, I’m covered in jizz. Is there a hazing ritual for new mates, or is this just what happens when you join a shifter pack?”
Logan snorted. “Hazing comes later. First you get fed.”
Nick let himself melt into the touch for a second longer. If this was real, if the cramps were gone, nothing else mattered.
He caught Logan watching him, his dark gaze heavier than any weighted blanket.
“You really okay?” Logan’s thumb traced circles right below Nick’s ribs, like he’d memorized every spot that made him unravel.
“Peachy.” Nick grinned, enjoying the attention. “Didn’t break you, did I? You look like a man who’s been debauched by a vampire.”
That got him a wolfish grin. “Happy to let you try again. Right now, though, you need your energy back.” Logan’s hand slid to Nick’s hip, giving it a squeeze. “Can hear your stomach from here.”
“Rude!” Nick’s belly rumbled again, loud enough to drown out the rest. You’d think, after draining a pint or two from his mate, it’d shut up, but human needs still called. Good to know.
Logan rolled out of bed, naked and unapologetic about it. Nick stared, because why the hell wouldn’t he?
The guy had the kind of body you’d pay to see in a magazine, all cut abs and broad shoulders and a dick that made Nick’s mouth water.
Logan arched an eyebrow the moment he noticed Nick’s gaze dragging over him, and that smirk…God. It said he liked being looked at.
“You undressing me with your eyes?” He didn’t bother with boxers, just tugged on his jeans like he wasn’t built like a Greek god.
“I’d rather undress you with my teeth, but you look busy.” Nick forced himself up, running his hands through hair that had lost a fight with his pillow. He tried not to notice the dried stickiness between his legs, either.
“Come on, mate. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Logan headed for the bathroom. Nick followed, leaning on the doorframe while Logan filled the sink.
Gentle hands on his hips then Logan was scrubbing him down with a warm washcloth. Nick tried to protest, but his mate just held him still, cleaning off the sweat and cum like it was the best part of his day.
“Don’t want you going to the pack house smelling like I’d tried to disassemble you last night,” Logan said, his mouth curled in a warm smile. “Though I don’t mind explaining it, if anyone’s nosy.”
Nick snorted. “You’re a menace. Keep touching me like that and we’re never leaving this apartment.”
There was a flash in those dark eyes, and then Logan nipped the tip of Nick’s ear. “Promises, promises.”
After the cleanup, Nick pulled a shirt over his head and a pair of jeans up his legs.
At the mirror, he paused, running his fingers through his hair, like it would actually cooperate for him.
Logan appeared behind him, hands settling at Nick’s waist, his gaze meeting Nick’s through the mirror. “You did good, baby.” A growl, affectionate this time. “Proud of you.”
Nick swallowed roughly, unused to praise. He had always heard when he’d done something wrong, especially from his stepdad. But he’d never been acknowledged for his accomplishments.
And last night had been his biggest accomplishment of all. Admitting what he was, even if he’d only learned what he was last night.
Nick ducked his head, slipping from under Logan’s before he fell apart. “I need coffee. Stat.”
Logan grinned. “Let’s see if Myron’s alive. Or if he’s still hiding from me.”
That reminded Nick. Myron. Roommate. Had witnessed… Christ. Nick’s face heated to nuclear levels. Anyone else and they’d have called the cops…or a priest.
He padded down the hall, Logan just behind, only to nearly run into Myron in the kitchen. His roommate was standing in front of the fridge with a pink floral scarf knotted so tight around his neck he looked like a Pinterest model gone rogue.
“Morning,” Nick muttered, reaching for the coffee. His hand trembled a little, but nothing compared to yesterday.
It was Logan’s commanding presence. He didn’t even have to touch Nick to scramble his wiring.
And before coffee? Unfair.
“Don’t mind me. Just…yogurt.” Myron’s eyes were glued to Nick’s mouth. “Well, gotta go.”
He grabbed his breakfast like it was a shield then beelined for the hallway. He made it three steps, paused, turned back, and stared at Nick with a weird expression on his face.
“You okay? I mean, after…you know.” He twirled a finger in the air, gesturing at Nick then at Logan.
Was Myron talking about the living room incident, or had he heard all the wild sex coming from Nick’s room last night?
Nick shrugged. “Yeah, I’m good. You?”
Myron slowly nodded, still looking spooked, and scurried off to his room, yogurt in hand.
The guy had acted as if he’d never heard anyone have the best sex of their life.
Or the worst awakening of their life.
Logan chuckled, crossing the tiny kitchen in two strides. He poured both of them coffee, black, slid Nick his, then leaned against the counter like he was proud of how loud he’d made Nick beg for his dick last night.
“You ready?” Logan asked, slight amusement in his voice.
“I told you that you were a menace,” Nick hissed. “Poor Myron will never look at sex the same way again. We traumatized the poor guy.”
“Trust me.” Logan took a sip of his coffee. “When he thought we were wildly making out on the couch, that wasn’t trauma I saw in his eyes.”
“Really?” Nick frowned. “But he seems so…” He twirled his hands, trying to think of the right word. “Vanilla.”
Logan had been taking another sip and nearly choked. Nick patted his back.
Then his mate burst out laughing. Nick didn’t see what was so funny, but his laugh was contagious, bold and inviting, pulling everything closer.
Nick had no clue why he was laughing like an idiot, but damn, it hit something deep inside of him that’d been locked away for too long.
Nick grabbed his hoodie off the back of the chair and shrugged into it. The material was thick and soft and still smelled like fresh laundry. Best scent in the world.
It felt weird stepping back out into the world after what happened last night. Not that he’d ever felt normal, but now everything felt…different.
Because he was a vampire. That still didn’t make any sense.
And he was walking outside with a wolf shifter.
That he was now mated to.
If Nick’s life got any more bizarre, demons would start jumping out of shadows.
Sun beat down as they headed for the parking lot. It was warm but hadn’t reached that sticky part of the day yet. The sky was that washed-out orange and pink, and fat, puffy clouds drifted lazily by overhead.
Nick needed to get up early more often. It was stunningly beautiful outside at seven-ish in the morning.
But considering he’d had only about three hours of sleep, he’d gladly go back to bed.
With Logan wrapped around him.
Preferably naked.
Logan kept one hand on Nick’s lower back, like he was Nick’s private security. If his mate kept giving him so much attention, Nick just might burst from happiness.
Halfway across the lot, Logan placed a hand on Nick’s arm, stopping him from walking.
A guy stepped out from behind the building. Nick’s nose wrinkled. The smell was off. Almost like Logan, but…oily. Maybe it was his angular face and calculating eyes.
Nick felt filthy just being near him. The kind of filth where he needed a shower.
Logan stiffened. “Don’t say anything. He’s not friendly.”
Nick clocked the stranger’s walk. He had that slouching, cocky way of moving that said, “I’d mug you for your lunch money just to watch you cry.” His jacket hung loose, his hands buried deep in the pockets.
Cramps twisted through Nick, making him wince. That shouldn’t be happening. He’d fed. He’d drank enough of Logan’s blood to sedate a horse. Maybe it was just stress. He pressed a hand to his stomach, hoping not to draw attention, but the ache flared again, hotter, meaner.
He didn’t have time to figure it out. Logan shifted his shoulders, blocking Nick from view.
“Get into the truck, baby.” Logan hadn’t told Nick to hurry, but he heard the request in his voice.
Nick moved swiftly but didn’t run. That would’ve brought attention on him. Once inside, Nick softly clicked the door closed.
From the cab of the truck, he watched it unfold.
Logan kept his voice low, but Nick caught every word.
“You’ve got some nerve showing up here, Mack.”
Mack shrugged. “Just passing through town. Thought I’d say hi to family while I was here.”
If this was family, Nick wanted nothing to do with the family reunion.
“Here’s your warning.” Logan’s voice dropped, turning dangerous. “Next time I see you, it’ll take more than three wolves to get me off of you.”
Nick’s stomach cramped again, hard enough for his vision to go fuzzy. It felt like a million centipedes crawling around in his intestines. He pressed his forehead to the dash, breathing in short, quick gasps.
A minute later, Logan was behind the wheel, slamming the door then driving out of the lot without looking back.
Nick tried not to panic, but every bump in the road made the cramp worse. He ground his fist into his abdomen, breathing through his teeth.
Logan reached out and took Nick’s hand but didn’t say a word. He just squeezed, his thumb rubbing over Nick’s knuckles like he could will the pain away.
It didn’t help.
By the time they’d cleared the first stop sign, Nick was doubled over, his forehead pressed to the dash.
“Talk to me, Nick,” Logan barked, concern overruling everything else. “Where does it hurt?”
“My gut. Worse than before.”
Logan jerked the truck to the side of the road so fast Nick thought they’d flip.
His mate crowded over, his big hands bracketing Nick’s face. “Look at me. Stay with me, okay?”
Nick tried, but it was like his body was being torn in two. Heat burst under his ribs, sweat running down his spine, too much, too fast.
He’d never hurt like this, not during the worst episodes, not even as a kid.
“Gonna get you home. Just breathe.”
Logan peeled out, tires squealing. The next few minutes vanished in a blur of pain and sunlight. Nick’s senses overloaded, every sound too loud, every color too bright.
After a few blocks, Logan glanced over. “You good?”
“Not really.” Nick tried to laugh, but it sounded like a yelp. “I thought if I took in enough blood, this would stop.”
Logan reached for his hand. His palm was warm but rough, grounding when the world went sideways for a moment. He squeezed Nick’s fingers, but his expression was all business, his eyes locked on the road.
“Tell me what’s going on.” For a guy who could probably flatten moose with his bare hands, Logan was soft when it came to Nick.
“It’s starting again. Cramps.” Nick sucked in a breath, trying to keep the world from spinning out.
Logan jerked the wheel, pulling onto the side of the road so fast Nick’s nose nearly met the glove compartment.
He turned, grabbed Nick’s chin, and forced him to look up. “Talk to me. Where does it hurt?”
“My stomach,” Nick managed. “Feels like my insides are trying to rearrange the furniture.”
Panic flared for a split second in Logan’s face then vanishing behind something more dangerous. “It shouldn’t be happening. You’re supposed to be fine.”
Nick pressed his palms to his stomach, doubled over. “Well, someone forgot to tell my body.”
Logan’s hand landed heavy on Nick’s back, massaging circles through the fabric. “You need more blood?” He sounded ready to open a vein right there on the road.
“No. Not now.” The thought of drinking more made his stomach churn. “I just want it to stop.”
He felt every bump in the road as Logan floored it, heading for the pack house. The world blurred past the window. Air thinned in his lungs. Maybe this was how he died. Not in a blaze of glory but in a truck with a wolf mate and a never-ending stomachache.
He tried to get his shit together. Deep breaths, eyes forward, pretend you’re not fighting to keep your insides on the inside.
Logan didn’t say anything else. He just gripped the wheel, staring holes through the windshield, his hand never leaving Nick’s thigh.
When they rounded a curve, Nick’s brows shot up.
The pack house stood proud against the backdrop of mountains, three stories of stone and timber that seemed to rise organically from the landscape.
Wide windows reflected the late afternoon sun, and a sprawling porch wrapped around the entire first floor.
Smoke curled lazily from one of three massive stone chimneys.
That wasn’t a house. It was a freaking resort.”
Logan parked right at the front door, helped Nick out of the truck, and wrapped his arm around Nick’s waist.
Nick caught flashes as they moved through the entry—polished wood floors, the sweet smell of baking, and something musky that tasted like pack. Warmth settled everywhere, like the house itself was alive.
The cramps hit again, harder than before, and Nick almost folded in half. Logan scooped him up bridal style, striding up a set of stairs. Nick closed his eyes, focusing on the steady bob of Logan’s gait, trying not to puke.
Upstairs, the hallway was filled with a chorus of barking laughter. Nick wanted to crawl under a blanket and not come out until someone finally had an answer.