Chapter 8
ADAM
Honestly, I had felt like a monster the other day when I’d roughly pinned Sky to the floor and snarled into his face, asserting my dominance over the Omega full-force. But Sky’s energies had been jagged and sharp and out of control, and it’d been the only thing I knew to do.
My inner-wolf had all but snarled to take control and put the pup in his place, so I let him—and it seemed to do some good, because Sky had settled after that, his aura balancing out a little. He hadn’t tried to self-harm since, at least. That in itself was a miracle.
Fletcher and I had given Sky plenty of space. All of this change was hard on the younger Omega, who was already skittish and untrusting to begin with.
Still, we made sure that Sky knew we were there for him. We invited him to do simple things, like help with dinner or watch movies with us. Sometimes he refused, choosing to hole up in his room instead. But sometimes he’d stick around for a movie if it was something he was interested in.
He seemed to be into action-packed thrillers and science-fiction flicks, which surprised me.
Fletcher had stepped into the role of Sky’s companion. It was hard seeing my Omega dote on Sky the way he did, but…maybe this is what the younger wolf needed. Maybe it was what Fletcher needed, too.
Maybe I was the one in the wrong. After all, this was my idea. Not that I could’ve taken Sky out and dumped him like a stray. There was no way I could’ve lived with myself after that, and Fletcher never would have let me live it down.
In fact, my Omega might’ve even gotten mad enough to file for divorce. The thought soured my stomach.
The week passed in a blur as I tried to juggle work and schedules and calling doctors to get appointments set up for Sky.
It was exhausting.
Every night I collapsed into bed after showering off the stink of our Salisbury steak special, extra caramelized onions, and I wanted nothing more than to cuddle Fletcher until I fell asleep.
I was even too tired for sex—not that our sex-life was really flourishing at the moment.
After the news that Fletcher was barren, the spark in the bedroom had kind of died out.
We still fooled around from time to time, but being so busy with the restaurant, sometimes we just chose sleep over sex, which was okay.
I just…missed what we used to have, sometimes. That’s all. I still loved Fletcher with every fiber of my being. Things between us had simply changed. Aged. Weathered.
Two weeks later, I drove Sky to the next city over to be evaluated by the best shifter-based psychiatrists and psychologists that money could buy. He said little on the way there. He just hunkered down in his seat and picked at the fraying hem of the hoodie sleeve he had pulled over his hand.
When we got there, I went up to registration and signed him in, then sat down. The waiting room was lavish, done in royal reds and golds, with large, studded leather seats and massive paintings hanging on the walls.
Sky paced the floor, worn Chuck Taylors scuffing over tile, before I gestured to the chair beside me.
He sat with a grumble, but he didn’t sit still.
He twitched and fidgeted and chewed on his nails.
He checked his phone, looking everywhere but at me, until finally I reached over and placed a hand on his knee.
Sky jumped.
“Everything will be okay,” I told him, keeping my voice calm and steady. “You’ll see.”
“Yeah. Right.” Sky didn’t seem convinced.
When his name was called, he looked like he wanted to shrink and disappear inside of his hoodie, but he stood and slinked towards the nurse. She greeted him in a chipper tone, which he did not reciprocate, and they disappeared behind the door.
I took a deep breath and texted Fletcher back. He was at work, because one of us needed to be there, and I felt like I might need to use a little Alpha force today, so I’d insisted on bringing Sky here.
After about an hour and a half, the door opened back up and Sky came shuffling out, shoulders hunched up around his ears, papers clenched in one hand.
He smacked them into my chest with a gritted-out, “Can we go now?” and then made a beeline for the exit. I could smell his anxiety, sharp and bitter. He was on the verge of a meltdown.
“Of course,” I replied calmly before following him outside into the crisp winter air. “Breathe.”
“I am breathing,” he hissed under his breath, but I could see the tremble in his hands as he hugged his elbows to his sides.
We got back to the car and buckled in. I started the engine and turned on the heat, but didn’t put the vehicle into drive. Instead, I thumbed through the paperwork, skimming the words on the page.
The paperwork detailed Sky’s diagnoses in stark black ink, alongside antidepressants and anti-anxiety medication intended to make his new normal a little more bearable. Back in Greymercy, I drove us to the pharmacy. Sky huddled in the passenger seat, his temple resting against the window.
I looked over at him and hesitated. “Will you be okay if I run in and get your meds?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” he said, his voice dull.
A little worried about my ward’s state of mind, I hurried into the drugstore and waited in line for what seemed like an eternity behind these two ancient old ladies who were comparing who had the worst diseases. Ugh.
By the time I finally got Sky’s scripts and made it back out to the car, I was half-afraid he might’ve made a run for it. Not that I knew where he might go—and that was my fear.
He remained hunkered down in the passenger seat, not having moved an inch. I set the bag of meds down on the center console and backed the car out of the lot, headed for home.
In the drive, the car still idling, I turned to him before he could bail out. “Sky, wait.”
Sky’s expression was tight, almost pained, but he did as I asked. I held up the paper bag that held his two prescriptions, then handed them to him.
Gentle but firm, I said, “I know you already know this, but I expect you to take these while living with us. Jem said you used to skip doses, and then he told us you stopped taking your meds altogether, but I need you to be honest with us and take them as prescribed. Do you understand?”
Sky’s lips twisted into a sneer. “What’s the alternative? Do you really think I could live happily ever after?” His laugh came out forced and so damn bitter it hurt.
“Yeah, Sky, I do,” I said solemnly. “I believe you still have plenty of life left to live, and plenty of love left to give. All it takes is finding the right Alpha, someone who adores you, who wants to start a family with you, give you the pups of your dreams, a home where you’re safe, a pack where you’re loved.
You’ve lost so much, but you’re so young, so full of promise and life. ”
Tears slipped down Sky’s cheeks, but he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it. My heart clenching, I leaned over and pulled him into a gentle hug. To my surprise, he let me.
“I want that for you, Sky, so please try? If not for you, then for the future children you’re meant to have and hold and love. Life gave you a second chance. Don’t throw it away.”
Sky wiped at his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, then shoved the door open and escaped out into the cold. I watched him retreat into the house, my heart feeling oddly heavy, but I meant what I said.
When I went inside, music was playing from Sky’s room, but the medicine bottles were sitting on the kitchen table with a half-finished bottle of water next to them.
I smiled. “Good boy.”