22. Greylen
Greylen
Bastian was well and truly away with the fairies. Off the deep end. High as a kite. Hammered.
“Come on, you stupid lug,” I groaned as I hauled him up the stairs toward his bedroom. How I had managed to get him into the den without anyone noticing was beyond me. I couldn’t really be stealthy when I was trying to half carry, half drag a very loopy dragon up the stairs.
“Hey, Grey, what are you up—Whoa.” Ben, one of the younger dragons in the horde, stopped, and I grimaced through a smile, trying to play it off. “What’s up with Alpha Bastian?”
“Hi, Ben. Sorry, Bastian’s had a bit of a—”
“I’ve had a revelation, is what! Profound! Earth-shattering!”
I clamped my hand over his mouth, ending all talk Bastian might want to indulge in before he made more of an ass of himself.
“That’s quite enough, Bash. Let’s get you upstairs.” I turned back to Ben, lowering my voice. “Hey, I’ll make it worth your while if you can keep people away from here. Our boy here needs his rest, and I don’t want to hear any rumors about what’s going on. Can you handle that?”
Ben’s eyes flared wide, and he nodded quickly. “Of course, Alpha. I’ll make sure you have privacy. I won’t say a word. Promise.”
Clapping him on the shoulder, I nodded back. “Good man.”
Bastian was getting heavier by the second, so I hiked him onto my shoulder again and darted as best I could for his room. His head wobbled like a constantly swirling gyroscope, and he dragged his feet as he walked.
“I swear to God… you fucking owe me big, fucker.”
“How much? I can pay you back. I just have to ask my dad. I’m good for it, though.” Bash was so insistent, so obviously worried, brows pinched together over his wide, dilated eyes. “You know… You know…!”
He got so loud but didn’t bother to continue, so I shouldered him farther up the steps until we got to his room and stood in front of the door. I leaned him against the wall. Immediately, he started pitching forward, almost collapsing into a heap on the floor.
“She’s just so pretty.” Bash sniffled, almost like he was crying. I shot a look at him, shocked to see the distraught expression on his face as I opened the door wide enough to get us both through. “Like, sooo pretty. God, I love her. But she hates me, and I fucking deserve it!”
“What are you going on about?” I pulled him over my shoulder again and got him inside, closing the door with my foot. Bash’s bedroom was opposite the main living space. I did everything I could to avoid dropping him as I crossed the room, ready to put this fucker to bed.
“Rowan!” Bastian called out, way too fucking loudly in my ear, making me flinch. “I love her! God, it’s terrible. I love her, and she hates me!”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, Lord. Come on.”
Shaking my head, I pulled him deeper into his room, literally dropping his heavy ass the moment we got to the bed. He bounced on it as the mattress responded to his weight. With all the coordination of a drunk baby deer, he tried to pull his limbs under the comforter.
“You could always try to be nice to her.” He shot me a sleepy look. “You know, stop treating her like she has the plague? Hell, with how much of a joy you’ve been, some groveling is definitely in order.”
Bastian was a bundle of confusion as he blinked, clearly trying to focus on me through the increasing fatigue. “Groveling?”
“You know, get down on your knees, kneel at her feet, and beg forgiveness for being such a dick.”
“A dick… Right, right…” Sleepiness got the better of him, and Bash rolled onto his back, his breathing going deep. “At her feet…”
All I could do was laugh as his snoring got louder and louder. I patted his foot, leaving the room, shaking my head. “Nighty night, Bash.”
From his room, I hurried down to find one of the others. They needed to be in the loop. I’d had my fill of dealing with him. It was their turn. When I entered the quiet kitchen, blissfully empty of people, I found Orsen sitting at the small table, picking at some leftovers.
“Dude, you should probably check in on Bash,” I said, grabbing a can of soda from the fridge. “And before you ask, I already put my time in.”
Orsen set down his fork. “Why?”
I took a long swig, contemplating my next words as I sat across from him. “Because he’s high as a kite and mumbling about how much he loves our mate.”
A spluttering sound escaped Orsen, and he shoved his bowl away, shaking his head as he blinked repeatedly. I understood his disbelief. Of all our clan, Bastian was the last one I would expect to end up in this situation. But leave it to painkillers to fuck his ass up.
“What? He’s… high?” I nodded back at him. “Is he okay? Is something wrong with him?”
“I mean, sure, but nothing new.” Orsen glared, but we both knew I had a point when it came to the stick that was permanently lodged up Bash’s ass.
“He just had a headache, and because Jenkins is gone, he had to go to Rowan. Well, naturally, the two butted heads. Or should I say Bastian butted heads with his own stubborn attitude? And I guess Bastian, being the impatient idiot he is, grabbed the headache medication out of Rowan’s hands and took a shitload before she could give him the proper dosage.
Which, for the record, was like a thirtieth of what he took. ”
Orsen’s mouth dropped open. “Is that safe?! Do we need to pump his stomach or some shit?”
I nodded with a snort. “Yeah, it’s safe enough. Rowan said it shouldn’t harm him. He just needs to sleep it off. So I managed to get him upstairs. He was already snoring before his head hit the pillow.”
“Fuck me.” Orsen sagged in his seat, rubbing his temples. “He’s his own worst enemy right now, isn’t he?”
That was a massive understatement. “Yep. If he doesn’t get his head out of his ass soon, Rowan is going to run in the other direction. Though I don’t think he was very receptive to my suggestion in his current state.”
Orsen’s face paled. “We can’t let that happen… Wait, you told him that?”
“Yeah. He needed to hear it. With him being high, I could actually get the sentence out before he could storm off.” I raised a brow, though, focusing on the more important part.
“It doesn’t matter how close we’re getting to her, as long as he’s being a jerk, the situation won’t improve.
I know he still has feelings for her, given the fact he was just declaring his love while I was plopping his potato-sack ass in bed.
We just need to get him to realize that—or accept it, at least.”
“Make Bastian do something he doesn’t want to?” Orsen snorted through an exaggerated laugh as he threw his head back. “Yeah, because that’s easy. I’m pretty sure we’d have an easier time changing the fucking weather.”
“Easy or not, you know I’m right.” Silence fell between us, and we both just stared at each other.
“We need to think of something. And I, for one, don’t think Bastian should be granted much of a choice.
She’s our mate. He has more than just himself to worry about.
It’ll cause us more pain if his behavior forces her to leave. ”
“You’re not wrong, Grey.” Orsen bobbed his head. “I guess that has to wait until he’s sobered up. How long did Rowan say it would last?”
I shrugged. “She wasn’t sure because of his size and how much he took, but I wouldn’t get our hopes up for any time in the next forty-eight hours.”
“Uhh, guys?” Nix asked as he hurried into the room.
I cocked my head, gut tightening. “Yeah?”
Nix threw his arm out behind him, pointing. “What the fuck is up with Bastian?”
I grimaced, pinching the bridge of my nose. “He’s sleeping off a little too much medication.”
Nix shook his head. “He’s not sleeping. He’s flying around outside and breaking half the forest as he flails around with the coordination of a kid after their first shift!”
Orsen and I glanced at each other, wearing matching panicked expressions. Our clanmate was in dragon form and highly medicated, flying outside with no idea when the meds would wear off. What could possibly go wrong?
Shit.