Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
MAX
By the time we arrived at Atlas’ house, he’d gone completely feral.
We rushed him inside to rest while we waited for Mr. Marino’s help to arrive. The bleeding had slowed, but that wasn’t what concerned me most.
The issue was, he wouldn’t allow anyone but me near him. Or, anyone near me, more like.
“Too close,” he spat at Mr. Marino when we helped him out of the car together. “Get away from my mate.”
He nearly bit off Mr. Marino’s hand when he tried to open Atlas’ bedroom door so we could lay him down to rest. “Only mate.”
Barely able to stand on his own, I shouldered most of his weight for the short walk to the bed, and he tumbled onto the soft duvet, nearly pulling me on top of him.
“Stay,” he rumbled.
“Atlas, you’re not well,” I answered, fear in my voice. I wasn’t afraid of him, but for him. Even during the peak of my heat, he’d kept his wits about him more than this.
“Stay,” he reiterated, but he was almost too weak to hold on to me, and his hand fell to the bed when I pulled away. I tugged off his shoes and pants and plopped his legs onto the bed, tucking him in. Too afraid I’d hurt his arm and make it bleed again, I left his hoodie on.
All the while, Mr. Marino watched, silent, from the door.
“What do we do?” I asked, voice hushed.
“I don’t know,” he answered.
Atlas’ eyes darted behind closed lids, and he reached for me. I held his hand to my chest and kissed the back of it.
My omega whined, begging to curl up on his chest and lick his wounds better. Seeing Atlas this way was like taking a knife to the heart.
It was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, my omega chanted. Alpha needs us. We can help him. We can make him better.
Thankfully, it wasn’t long before a motorcycle rumbled into the drive. It was one of those crazy-fast crotch rockets that looked more like a death wish than a mode of transportation, but to each their own.
The petite omega riding it swung his leg over the bike and removed his helmet to reveal one of the prettiest men I’d ever seen.
With dark, cropped hair, big, blue eyes, and tattoo sleeves crawling up both exposed forearms, he screamed bad boy, even while dressed in scrubs with a backpack slung over his shoulder.
My omega snarled. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end when he approached the front door.
He looked just like every beautiful, world-wise, better-than-me omega I’d pictured Atlas with when he said he’d tried to fix his rut with other people.
Mine, my omega snarled. This is mate’s den, and he’s mine. Get out.
Instinctively, I threw an arm across the door, barring the omega's entry. “You can’t come in,” I said, baring my teeth.
Where the fuck had that come from? Atlas needs help, I reminded my omega.
We’re the only ones who can help, he snarled back.
“Max,” Mr. Marino said carefully. “Miles is here to help. He’s a nurse and works at the clinic. Atlas needs him.”
Alpha doesn’t need anyone but us, my omega said with a flick of its tail.
“I know that,” I replied, words clipped, but my arm didn’t budge.
Later, I’d be embarrassed about this, but right now, the omega wasn’t getting past the door. “If he’s such a good nurse, he can help from outside.”
The omega raised an eyebrow and scented the air. “Fucking hell,” he mumbled under his breath. “When you told me your brother was shot while in rut and wouldn’t stop bleeding, you left out the part about a territorial mate.”
“This is… new,” Mr. Marino responded, looking at me oddly.
The nurse leveled Mr. Marino with an accusing glare. “I had to get someone to cover my shift for this. If I’d known I’d be barred from entry, this would’ve been a phone call.”
How dare he think his stupid job was more important than helping my mate?
He can help even more if you let him inside, you know.
Nonsense.
“My apologies.” Was that a smirk in Mr. Marino’s voice?
The tattooed nurse rolled his eyes. “Where was he shot?”
“Arm,” I answered.
“Was it a clean exit, or is the round still inside?”
“It was just a graze,” Mr. Marino said. “He bled more than we’d expect, though, so I called you.
But when we got him home, the rut symptoms worsened.
He’s not himself. He’s territorial over Max, but weak.
He can barely keep his eyes open. Looks like he has a fever. Complains of a terrible headache.”
My omega whined. Go make him better!
“Well,” the nurse said with a sigh. “I’m not a doctor.
If he was shot, you really should go to the ER to get it cleaned and bandaged.
But,” he emphasized, looking me up and down, “I can see that’s not a possibility right now.
If you keep the wound clean and wrapped, it should be fine.
The other symptoms are more concerning, though.
I’d need to take some vitals to know more. ”
“Max? Can he come in and do that?” Mr. Marino asked.
Concern for Atlas overrode my desire to throw them both out of the house. I huffed and crossed my arms, moving away from the door. “Fine. As long as you’re sure he knows what he’s doing,” I said, eyeing the nurse as he stepped inside.
He smirked and winked at me. “Don’t worry, I’m very good with alphas in rut.”
Right. He can smirk all he wants from the middle of the fucking lake when I drag him out by the ear and punt him into—
Mr. Marino grabbed me by the collar of my shirt. I hadn’t realized I’d lunged. “Miles is a brat, but he knows not to touch what isn’t his. Don’t you, Miles?”
The little shit rolled his eyes. “Let me see him, and I’ll get out of your hair.”
I followed them down the hall, keeping a close eye on the omega, but I also couldn’t help noticing new details every time I looked around.
Atlas’ home gave me déjà vu.
Maybe it was just because it, too, was on the shore. When we’d pulled into the drive, something about the beautiful midcentury modern house called to me, as if it welcomed me home, instead of greeting me anew.
I’d brushed it off. After everything that’d happened in the last few days, my emotions were all over the place. I was probably just interested in where Atlas retreated to when he wasn’t snooping around in the bushes or breaking into my apartment.
The furnishings were warm and more colorful than I would’ve imagined, but then again, I hadn’t yet had a chance to see him completely relaxed in his element.
Sea creatures were everywhere; there was art on the walls, statues and figurines lining tables and bookshelves, and he even had a giant fish tank built into the wall, filled with corals and colorful fish.
It was fascinating.
I’d be able to appreciate it all more later. Maybe. Hopefully. Right now, I hovered in Atlas’ room while Miles took his blood pressure.
My omega preened when Atlas snarled at the omega to get out of our den, albeit less aggressively than he had at his own brother. He was placated, though, when I promised to stand close by.
Mr. Marino was still relegated to the hallway.
“How long have you been in rut?” the nurse asked, tucking the blood pressure cuff back in his bag.
“Two years,” I answered when Atlas only glared.
He blinked. “Two years?”
“It’s a long story,” Mr. Marino said, running his hand down his face. “He was on suppressants for most of it. What about his arm?”
Miles collected himself. “Blood flow is directed away from internal organs into the body’s extremities during rut. It’s why he wouldn’t stop bleeding. I’ve patched him up, but you’re going to have to watch it carefully. Normally, he’d heal just fine, but…”
“But what?” I asked.
All of the snark fell away. “He looks like he’s on the verge of needing serious care. Maybe hospitalization. I won't ask specifics, but if he doesn’t have a partner to break the rut with, you need to take him to a specialist and get back on suppressants right now.”
“He can’t go back on suppressants,” Mr. Marino said. “His liver enzymes are too high. He’s been cut off.”
The nurse shook his head, face grim. “Look, interventions for a prolonged rut after suppressants fail are far more invasive, and not something I’m comfortable doing in this setting.
I can give him something to clear his mind temporarily, but for more permanent solutions, I’d have to discreetly ask a colleague. ”
“What happens if the rut breaks?” I asked, interrupting him. “If we seal the bond, will that make him better?”
“Max,” Atlas groaned. All of our heads turned to him. It was the most he’d said since the nurse arrived, but he just shook his head.
We’re running out of time, my omega said, pacing back and forth, ratcheting my anxiety higher and higher. Help him! Help our mate!
Fear gripped me. “Well?” I prompted. “Will it fix it?”
The nurse glanced back and forth between us. “Yes. It’s the best solution.”
“But it’s not going to hurt him even more? It won't overtax him?”
Atlas sighed and shook his head, eyes closed. “Give me whatever you can for now,” he said to the nurse.
The omega suppressed a smirk and dug in his bag, pulling out an unmarked pill bottle. “If you break the rut soon, my guess is he will be fine. Here,” he said, handing Atlas two tablets. “In your state, these won’t last long.”
Atlas swallowed them with a grimace.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. “Thank you. You two should go now.”
The nurse nodded. “I’ll leave a note with my number. Call me if his condition worsens. Or you could just go to the hospital like normal people do.”
Mr. Marino smiled at me, small, but real. “Call me, too, please. We’ll take care of… the other thing.”
The nurse sauntered down the hall. “It sounds like you’re discussing a dead body.”
I choked. Whatever that was between them and whatever lie Mr. Marino chose to tell to cover up the actual skeleton in his closet—or trunk—was his business. Their voices faded until the snick of the front door cut them off and left me and Atlas alone.
Good riddance, my omega huffed. Now, go fix our mate!
The air grew still. The clock perched on the fireplace mantle down the hall went tick, tick, tick.
The room was dim despite the wall of windows overlooking the lake. Clouds had rolled in, shadowing the sun outside so only soft, filtered light trickled in.
His bedside lamp was on low, casting a warm halo around the room, but otherwise it was sparsely furnished. A single chair sat right up next to the glass.
Did he spend his mornings there, sipping coffee and watching the waves crash against the rocky shore?
His king-sized bed was pushed back against the far wall, covered in a dark gray duvet with cream sheets. They contrasted well with the warmth of the wooden headboard.
It was a wonderfully cozy home. One I’d like to be a part of, if he let me.
I sat on the edge of the bed and took his hand between both of mine. “Atlas,” I whispered. “You’re dying.”
“I know.”
Tick, tick, tick.
I wiped away the tears in my eyes. “Is this what you really want? To remain unbonded and die?”
“No.” He said it with such conviction my heart swelled. “But I never wanted you to make this decision out of obligation.”
His voice was raspy, but whatever the nurse had given him seemed to make his thoughts clearer. “That’s why I was trying to get more suppressants from Gwen. So we could have a real conversation about this. You deserve to choose for yourself without worrying about my life.”
Silence stretched, heavy and thick. I studied his beautiful face. It was still a novelty to see every part of him all at once. I almost felt shy looking at him unmasked, as if I’d walked in on him changing.
There were still parts of him I didn’t know, still things left to be discovered. But my omega knew he was a safe place to land from that very first night. Among all the pain and fear, my instincts told me he was the one we could trust.
He was my mate, and he was willing to die to give me a choice.
Well, I’d chosen.
I leaned over, gently cupping his face between my hands, and kissed his brow. “It’s not an obligation. It’s love. I love you so much, and I choose you. I will not let you die, mate. You’ve saved me, over and over. It’s time for me to save you now, okay?”
His face crumpled at my words, like he was undeserving of such love and acceptance. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Max. There are so many things I should’ve told you. Things you need to know before you make a permanent decision.”
He began to tremble, and his words came faster and faster, like once he finally opened the tap it was impossible to close.
“I need you to know that I wanted to tell you all of this during your heat, but I couldn’t find the right time.
And when I realized how much I lo—” he gulped, “love you, and how much it would destroy me if you walked away, I got stuck.”
“Hey,” I interrupted, resting my hands on his chest. He was nearly hyperventilating, and I feared he’d pass out again. “Hey. Shh.”
My omega was howling at me to comfort him and to get as close as possible. Did it instinctively understand what he needed to heal?
I settled against him, careful of his shoulder, and pressed my forehead to his. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here. We’re safe.”
He nuzzled into my hair and inhaled. In my mind, my omega purred in reply and wound around the bigger alpha. They intertwined so intricately they’d never be separated without tearing something vital.
My skin no longer stretched thin. The needling anxiety in the back of my head evaporated. Every muscle in my body sighed. He relaxed, too, gently gripping my waist.
As long as I was in Atlas’ arms, everything would be alright.
“Whatever you tell me, I’m not going anywhere,” I said. We’d work through it together. I’d never been more certain of anything in my life.
Atlas’ shoulders heaved in a deep breath. Then another. And another.
Finally, he began. “I watched you, Max.”