Chapter Eight #2
“Is it always like this?” Nick finally whispered. “Bonding? It hurts. Fucks with your head.”
“That’s just us, sweetheart. We don’t do anything the easy way.”
Nick laughed, bitter and wild. “I might throw up.”
“Try not to get it on my shirt. I like this one.” Logan grinned, even though he felt like someone had scraped out his heart with a rusty spoon.
Nick’s body went limp. He melted, helpless, into Logan’s lap, boneless as a puppet with the strings cut. He didn’t protest when Logan lifted him, holding him tight as he carried him out of the room.
* * * *
Logan hauled Nick into his arms, not caring that his mate was all awkward elbows and deadweight. Tough luck. He could fight, cuss, or crack jokes, but Logan wasn’t putting him down until he stopped trembling.
Downstairs a few wolves watched from the den. He ignored them, shouldering through the entry and taking the stairs two at a time until they reached the guest room at the end of the hall.
Logan shouldered the door open and kicked it shut behind them then dropped onto the bed with Nick curled in his lap. Nick didn’t let go. Not at first.
Nick clung to his shirt, his fist wound tight in the fabric, his head buried under Logan’s jaw. His breath hitched roughly in his lungs. He wouldn’t look up, not even when Logan tipped his face gently.
“You’re safe,” Logan said, his voice low. “I’m right here. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”
The words hung there until Nick finally exhaled, his body going slack. He lay in Logan’s arms, breathing hard, and then he tried to get up. No chance. Logan held him anchored long enough for his mate’s pulse to slowly lower from panic to just wary.
He loosened his grip, just enough for Nick to pull free if he really wanted it. Nick didn’t. He kept one hand tangled in Logan’s shirt, almost like he forgot it was there.
After a minute, Nick shoved himself upright then flopped backward on the bed, a hand over his eyes. He sucked another breath in, held it, then let it out like he was about to dive into shark-infested water.
Logan stretched out next to him, propped up on one elbow. “You good?”
Nick’s laugh barely made it out. “I don’t even know what that means anymore.”
He sat up too fast then scrubbed at his face like he could wipe away the memories clawing through his head. “Tell me this is a joke. Tell me this is the part where a vampire gets knocked up is some weird pack hazing thing.” His voice cracked on the last word.
“No joke,” Logan said, watching every twitch of those hands.
Nick made a sound, not quite a laugh, not quite a sob, then shoved both palms against his stomach. “No. No fucking way. You can’t just…do that to a person.”
“You didn’t hear the doctor?” Logan kept his tone level. “He said it’s normal. At least for your bloodline.”
“Bullshit,” Nick spat. “I don’t have a bloodline. I don’t have anything.”
He hunched forward, his head low, his arms wrapped tight around his belly. He looked shellshocked, his body curled up like he could make himself smaller.
Logan waited, counting each shallow breath to see if Nick would get a handle on it or spiral off the ledge.
No such luck. Nick stood and started pacing, his bare feet slapping the wood. He looked like a stray cat backed into a corner, wild and desperate to escape.
He shot Logan a glare. “You did this to me! You…we…that’s not even how it works.”
He doubled over, clutching his stomach harder. “I refuse to believe this. It’s not possible. I’ve had stomach issues my whole life! You’re telling me one night with you and I get…this?” His voice pitched. He was barely holding together.
Logan wanted to tell him it was okay. He wanted to promise he’d fix everything. But no promise would erase how scared Nick was, how rattled.
He kept his mouth shut. He just let Nick pace and get it all out.
Nick didn’t slow. He stalked the room then stopped by the window and pressed his forehead to the glass. “Maybe it’s the bite,” he muttered. “Maybe you’re toxic. Maybe I’m allergic to wolf dick.” That earned a laugh from Logan, but Nick didn’t join in.
He turned around, his eyes huge, his face pale. “Bites don’t get people pregnant,” he whispered.
“Don’t look at me,” Logan said. “You’re the one with the rare bloodline.”
Nick half laughed, half choked, glaring. “I’m not having your child. I’m not even supposed to have children. That’s not…that’s not a thing.”
He went quiet, breathing shallow, eyes darting everywhere. Logan could see the fight and fear building to a boil.
Finally, Nick lost it. One hand slammed into the wall, hard enough to leave a dent. The other pressed against his gut, like he could dig the pain right out.
“No!” he yelled. “This is not my life! You don’t get to break me open and stuff me full of…of…whatever the hell this is.”
His voice dissolved into a broken noise. He stumbled back, his hands trembling, jaw clenched.
Enough.
Logan caught him, his arms going around Nick’s waist, pinning him back against his own body. Nick struggled for a second, but Logan didn’t let go.
“You wanna rage at me, fine,” Logan growled into his ear. “But you’re not doing it alone.”
Nick squirmed, his feet kicking, his head turning away. “Let me go.”
“Not happening.”
Eventually Nick sagged against him, chest heaving like he’d run a marathon. Logan could feel him vibrating with the need to hurt something, maybe even himself.
He buried his nose in Nick’s hair and inhaled deep.
Goddamn. His mate’s scent had changed. It was richer now, sweeter. More alive than before.
Logan tightened his grip, his hand firm on Nick’s belly. He could feel the difference, even through the shirt. Nick was hot and tense, like a power source had lit up inside him.
Nick made another sound, small and wounded, then curled his knees up, letting Logan support all his weight. He hid his face in Logan’s shoulder and shook.
Logan just held him, rocking him side to side until Nick’s breathing evened out.
“You done fighting me?” Logan murmured.
Nick didn’t answer. Maybe he couldn’t. His fingers dug into Logan’s skin, desperate and helpless.
Logan pressed his mouth to Nick’s temple. “I got you, baby. Nothing’s gonna get through me to you.”
Nick turned his head, resting his cheek on Logan’s collarbone. Shame flickered through his expression. “I’m pathetic.”
Logan snorted. “You survived twenty-six years of hell and are currently incubating the world’s most stubborn baby. Pathetic is not the word I’d use.”
Nick huffed, but he didn’t move. If anything, he melted closer, boneless and spent.
Logan stroked the back of Nick’s neck, circling a thumb there. His mate’s tension eased, bit by bit. Each breath he pulled in tasted like home.
He almost didn’t hear the knock. Zeppelin didn’t wait for an answer. The alpha pushed the door open, his presence sucking the oxygen out of the room.
Nick froze in Logan’s lap.
Zeppelin took one look at the bed and raised a brow. “Look alive,” he told Logan. “Got a mate to manage.”
Nick’s gaze snapped to Zeppelin, terror raw in his face. He ducked in close behind Logan, using him as a shield. Primal move.
Logan bared his teeth. “Don’t push him,” he warned.
“You bite me, you fix your own mistakes.” Zeppelin ignored the warning and planted his bulk against the wall, his arms crossed. “Your mate’s a rare one. This pregnancy’s not dangerous for his bloodline.”
Logan kept Nick pressed close, refusing to let him break contact. He could feel every tremor shudder through his mate, could practically taste the cocktail of fear, guilt, and wild arousal tangling up inside him.
“Is he gonna keep passing out?” Logan asked.
“Probably,” Zeppelin said. “That’s the body’s way of handling overload during transition. You see this in wolves sometimes. Right now Nick’s hormones are out of control, but the cramping will stop. Your job is to keep him safe and stable.”
Nick peeked over Logan’s shoulder, his face white as paper. “He got me pregnant,” he whispered, horror clear as day.
“Sure did.” Zeppelin grinned, unbothered. “Congrats. You’ll be nesting in no time.”
Nick’s breathing shallow, his eyes wild. Logan cradled Nick’s head against his chest, letting him hide.
The alpha’s gaze landed on Logan, heavy and knowing. “This pregnancy needs stability. No stress. Keep him fed. Keep him happy. Don’t leave him alone. Not even for a second, unless another wolf’s watching him.”
Nick went stiff in Logan’s arms. The wolf inside Logan didn’t care. He liked the idea of never leaving his mate, not even for a bathroom break.
Zeppelin checked Nick again, his lips twitching. “You’re gonna be a dad, Logan. Try not to break your mate before the kid arrives.”
He patted the doorframe on the way out then left them alone.
The quiet roared louder than the alpha ever could.
Nick kept his face smashed into Logan’s shirt, breathing in like he was drowning and Logan was the only air left.
After a minute, he whispered, “You’re not mad? Not…disgusted? This is so messed up.”
Logan held him tighter. “I got you alive. I’d do it again.”
Nick’s body went limp, and then his hands started shaking. His scent spiked, not just with panic but something else. A wild, dizzying rush of hunger. Logan’s own pulse picked up, answering the call before his brain even caught up.
Nick shook, his breath catching in his chest, his hands clutching Logan’s shirt. His eyes flicked up, shocked and betrayed by his own body.
“Can’t… Can’t stop…” Nick bit his lip, hard enough to leave a mark.
Logan tucked the blanket around his hips, making sure every inch of him was covered and secure.
He clutched Logan’s hand, his knuckles white, his eyes huge.
Logan lay there and held his.
* * * *
He didn’t sleep much. Didn’t try. It was enough to watch Nick breathe, to watch the tension fade from his body.
Every so often, Nick would jolt awake, his eyes darting like he expected the world to turn on him. Every time, Logan was right there, stroking his hand or rubbing circles into his back. It settled Nick every single time.
Morning found sunlight making a joke of Logan’s blackout curtains. Nick lay tangled in the sheets, his lips parted, lost in a real dream for once.
Logan watched, drinking in every detail. He’d fought and bled plenty in his life, but nothing had ever made him as scared as seeing Nick collapse. He would’ve ripped out his own throat if it would have helped.
Nick twisted suddenly, wakefulness rolling through his limbs. He shot up fast, like a guy expecting bad news.
For a second, panic clawed up his face, and then something clicked. He caught Logan’s scent, his nose twitching as he sucked it in.
Breath eased down into Nick’s lungs. He blinked, slow and confused, like the room had been rearranged during the night.
Logan leaned forward, his voice soft. “You with me?”
Nick nodded, his eyes locked on Logan’s as if nothing else existed. For a second, all the fear drained away. Nick looked lost, not scared, just…newly born.
He shifted on the bed, hands flying to his belly, and then he blanched when he made contact. “No.” The word came out like he’d been punched. “No, no, no…”
Nick tried to scoot back, but Logan kept a hand on his calf, anchoring him to the mattress.
“Don’t freak out,” Logan said. “You’re okay.”
Nick wasn’t buying it. He stared down at himself, his hands braced on his middle, like he expected to see an alien bust out.
“This is a nightmare,” he muttered. “I wasn’t kidding last night. There is no fucking way this is happening.”
“You fainted so you didn’t hear everything. The doctor said it’s normal.”
Nick laughed, high and brittle. “You hear yourself? Normal?”