Chapter 6 Boone Atwood #2
"Good veins," the woman commented clinically, wrapping a rubber tourniquet around my upper arm and pulling it tight. The pressure was uncomfortable, making my hand tingle. She swabbed the crook of my elbow with a freezing alcohol pad.
I fixed my gaze ahead, on a small dent in the otherwise pristine wall surface.
I could hear the rustling of packaging, the soft murmurs between the techs, the distant sounds of my pack brothers talking outside.
The sun streaming through the small window created a patch of warmth on my shoulder, and I tried to focus on that sensation instead of what was happening.
"Just a small pinch now," the male tech said, and I made the mistake of looking down.
The needle glinted in the fluorescent light, impossibly long and sharp.
It was probably standard size, but to my eyes, it looked like something meant for livestock, not humans.
A vivid memory flashed—me at seven years old, the doc coming at me with a syringe, the sharp point slamming into my arm, the needle yanked back out, no pressure applied, blood spurting on his white coat like a horror movie scene.
Before I could stop myself, I was on my feet.
My body moved without conscious thought, a primal reaction to perceived threat.
I felt my arm connect with something—someone—and heard a startled cry.
The male tech flew backward, his slight frame no match for the force of my involuntary movement.
He slammed into the cabinets with a sickening thud, the tray of supplies clattering to the floor, vials rolling in every direction.
"Shit!" I gasped, horror replacing fear as I realized what I'd done. "I'm sorry—I didn't mean to—"
The tech was slumped against the cabinet, looking dazed but conscious. The woman rushed to his side, her professional demeanor cracking as she checked him for injuries.
"What the hell happened?" The Eros representative's sharp voice cut through the chaos as she appeared in the doorway.
"It was an accident," I said quickly, still frozen in place, afraid to move and cause more damage. "I just—I reacted—"
The commotion drew attention from outside. Heavy footsteps pounded up the metal steps. The mobile lab tilted from weight imbalance. The Eros rep quickly stepped out of the way as both Cooper and Levi shoved inside, eyes wide with concern.
"Boone? You okay?" Cooper squeezed into the narrow space, with Levi right on his heels.
The big vehicle rocked as they launched toward me. Equipment rattled on the counters, something rolled across the floor and shattered against the base of the chair, and the Eros rep had to steady herself holding a countertop.
“Maybe you going first wasn’t the right move,” Levi muttered, taking in the damage.
"I didn't mean to," I said again, feeling my face burn with shame. I was a grown man, an Alpha, part-owner of a successful ranch, and here I was knocking people over because I couldn't handle a simple blood draw.
“Is he okay?” I directed this question to the female tech helped her colleague to his feet. He looked shaky but managed a weak smile.
"I'm fine. It happens more often than you'd think. Maybe not quite so... forcefully, though.” He straightened his posture, telling the other tech she didn’t need to support him anymore.
Cooper stepped closer to me, his voice low. "You want us to stay? Help you through this?"
The question should have offended my Alpha pride, but instead, it filled me with relief.
I gave a short, jerky nod, unable to put into words how grateful I was for the offer.
I'd faced down wild animals, weathered brutal Wyoming winters, worked from sunrise to sunset without complaint, but this—this was my kryptonite, and I wasn't too proud to admit I needed backup.
"Perhaps we should all take a moment," the Eros representative suggested, clearly trying to regain control of the situation. "And then—"
"I’m ready. Just get it over with," I interrupted firmly, sitting back in the too small chair. I looked up and locked gazes with Levi and Coop. “You’re going to have to hold me down.”
They exchanged a glance, before positioning themselves on either side of me, their hands firm on my shoulders, their weight anchoring me to the chair.
Their familiar scents—cinnamon, pine, the sweet scent of wildflowers, damp aspen leaves—helped ground me, but my heart still raced like a wild mustang. My own scent had soured from stress.
"It's okay, big guy," Cooper murmured. "We've got you."
Levi's grip tightened slightly. “Just look at one of us. Don’t try to think about it.”
They weren’t my scent match Omega, but they were my mates. I couldn’t imagine life without them, enduring moments like this alone.
The female tech approached cautiously, carrying what looked like padded restraints. She held them up, a question in her gaze. My stomach lurched at the sight of the cuffs, but I forced myself to nod. “Put them on.”
"Are you certain, Mr. Atwood?" she asked, hesitating.
"Just do it," I grit out. My Alpha pride was already in tatters; what was one more blow? "I don't want to hurt anyone else."
She efficiently strapped my arms to the chair, then secured a wider band across my chest, working around Cooper and Levi who both refused to budge.
The restraints weren't tight enough to be painful, but they were firm enough that I couldn't easily break free.
Part of me wanted to test them, to see if I could snap the material with a surge of Alpha strength. I resisted the impulse.
The male tech approached now, though he kept a cautious distance. A fresh needle package was in his hand, and I noticed he'd changed his gloves. Probably had to after being knocked across the room. Guilt stabbed through me again.
“Just be quick.” I closed my eyes, focused on my pack brothers’ firm touches.
I felt the tourniquet again, the cool swipe of alcohol, and then Levi's voice close to my ear. "Breathe, Boone. Just keep breathing."
The pinch when it came was sharp but brief.
I flinched hard enough that the chair creaked, my entire body going rigid.
A sound escaped me—not quite a growl, not quite a whimper—something called by baser instincts.
My eyes squeezed shut tighter, colorful spots dancing behind my lids.
I could feel the subtle pressure as the needle drew blood, could sense the tech moving, changing vials.
One, then another, then a third. How much did they need?
Cooper's hand moved from my shoulder to the back of my neck, massaging gently.
Finally, the needle was withdrawn, and a cotton ball pressed to the site. My eyes fluttered open, relief washing through me in a dizzying wave. It was over. I'd survived.
"That wasn't so bad, right?" Cooper said, his trademark grin returning. "Now we just—"
"We still need the scent samples," the female tech interrupted, brandishing a small handheld device. "From all four glands."
My relief evaporated. I’d forgotten this part.
Both blood and scent were sacred bodily fluids, yet the latter felt more intrusive to take.
They were harvesting me, putting me in a database.
My people taught that a person's essence—their breath, blood, saliva, sweat, pheromones—was part of their spirit.
To give these things away carelessly was to give away pieces of your soul.
This isn’t careless, I reminded myself.
This is my pack’s future.
A low growl rumbled in my chest before I could stop it. "What exactly does that involve?"
She grimaced. “Basically… the same.” She held up the thing that looked like a black remote. “Gland finder, sort of works like a vein finder. Mostly we need an idea of position and depth. Going too deep could cause damage. Eros developed this so we didn’t have to carry around ultrasound tech.”
“And…” I pressed, feeling like she wasn’t giving me the full picture.
“And we take samples,” she just smiled, and waited.
“Fine,” I managed to say, clamping my eyes closed again.
“I’ll do the neck first,” she said clinically. “Can you tilt your head to the right?”
I tilted my head, exposing the side of my neck where my scent gland pulsed beneath the skin.
I felt nothing at first.
“What’s going on?” I didn’t open my eyes.
“Just taking a location and depth reading,” the tech’s voice responded. “Okay, I’m ready to gather the first scent sample. Are you doing okay, Mister Atwood.”
“Fine,” I repeated through clamped teeth.
When the needle pierced my skin, I roared in pain.
I bucked, trying to escape the restraints and my pack brothers’ hands. “Get that damn needle out of my neck!” I growled, ripping one arm free of its shackle.
“Do it,” I heard Levi say.
“He’s going to be pissed.” Cooper’s voice.
I parted my lashes, rage flooding my body. It wasn’t the same as the arm. This hurt like a bitch.
The male lab tech was rushing towards me with a cloth held in one hand.
Before I could react, he pressed it against my nose and mouth.
A sweet, chemical smell filled my lungs.
The edges of reality blurred and softened.
My limbs grew heavy, my thoughts fuzzy. I was still aware, still present, but disconnected from the anxiety that had been tearing through me.
Through the haze, I felt movement. I felt the air shift around me.
I felt mild stinging at my neck and inner wrists.
Voices filtered through the fog. After a while, the pungent rag was removed from my face.
Gradually, the sharpness of the world returned bit by bit—the bright lights, the hard chair beneath me, the medicinal smells. The restraints were gone; my pack mates no longer touched me. The techs were labeling vials of blood and shimmering scent.
"All done, Mr. Atwood.” The female tech smiled at me. "You did very well."
I stood up, which made the world spin. Closing my eyes, I stood perfectly still until I didn’t feel like I was standing on a ship at sea. Once steady, I parted my lashes to blink around the space, finding Cooper and Levi hovering nearby.
“You good, Boone?” Cooper looked pale, his eyes crinkled with concern.
I stared directly into his eyes, fully aware now and deadly serious. "I'm going to pay you back for this, Cooper. That's a promise."
His smile faltered slightly, but he nodded, accepting the threat as his due. "Fair enough. But if this works—if we find our Omega—it'll be worth it, right?"
I stalked slowly towards him, leaning down to whisper in his ear. It made him shiver.
"It better be," I said quietly. "Because I'm never doing this again."
I made my way out into the Wyoming air and sunshine.
The lingering taste of the sedative clung to the back of my throat, so I inhaled the familiar scents of our ranch to cleanse it away.
What a fucking nightmare, I thought as I headed straight toward the stables.
A ride would help. I’d disappear, make them worry I’d gone on one of my long solo trips. Hell, maybe I really would.
Let the others suffer through sampling without me.
Would it be worth it?
This pain?
I sure as hell hoped so…