Chapter 18
Damon
As I cradled Stellan close to my chest, watching Elliot sleep peacefully beside me, I allowed myself a moment of quiet relief. It wasn't something I thought I'd have anytime soon, considering the chaos going on outside.
Our son was alive, healthy, and nestled safely between us. That was all that mattered in that moment.
Yet, the calm wouldn't last long. I just knew it wouldn't.
There was too much to attend to—the attack on our territory, Hunter's deteriorating condition, and the ever-present threat of the Serpents looming over our heads. Not to mention the delicate balance between Elliot and me, which seemed more precarious than ever.
I needed to deal with that soon, but it wasn't so easy, or simple.
First things first—I needed to check on Hunter. His earlier collapse had left me shaken, and I couldn't ignore the fact that he might be suffering from something far more sinister than mere exhaustion or stress. If his symptoms continued to worsen, we'd have a real crisis on our hands. In other words, a crisis that could jeopardize not only his life but also our entire operation here. And that was definitely not something I could let happen.
Leaving Elliot and Stellan to nap undisturbed, I made my way upstairs and found Marcus barking orders into a satellite phone, the only communication device still functional after the EMP strike. He looked up as I entered, relief flashing across his face.
"Damon! Thank fuck you're alright. How's Elliot and the baby?"
"They are fine," I replied curtly, not wanting to dwell on the details. There was no time to do that, after all. "But I'm worried about Hunter. Have you seen him since I carried him downstairs?"
Marcus' expression turned grave. "Yeah, I checked on him a few minutes ago. His vitals are all over the place. Heart rate, blood pressure, oxygen saturation… none of them make any damn sense."
My gut twisted into knots. This was bad and not just for Hunter, but for everyone involved in this clusterfuck. If his condition worsened, there was no telling how it would affect the rest of our operations or how it might impact the pack dynamics.
Some people wouldn't admit it, but he was an important member of our organization.
"We need to get him stable," I growled, my mind racing through possible solutions. "Can you prep an IV line with some sedatives? Maybe that will buy us enough time to figure out what's going on."
It wasn't going to be enough, but still better than nothing.
Marcus nodded, already moving toward the medical supplies scattered around the room. As he worked, I paced, my thoughts spiraling through countless scenarios, and none were pleasant.
Then, as if sensing my inner turmoil, Marcus glanced up at me, his brows furrowing. "What's really eating you, boss?" He asked, not bothering to sugarcoat anything. He never did that. "It's not just Hunter, is it?"
So, it was that obvious, wasn't it?
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. Leave it to Marcus to cut straight to the chase. The man was like a bloody terrier when he wanted answers.
"No," I admitted, leaning against the countertop. "It's everything else. The Serpent attack, the EMP, the fucking experiments gone wrong…" I trailed off, shaking my head. "It feels like we're drowning under shitstorm after shitstorm, and I don't know how much longer we can keep our heads above water."
Marcus finished preparing the IV line, then approached me, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. "We'll find a way, Damon. You always do."
His confidence in me stirred something deep within me, reminding me why I'd chosen him to work for me. Together, we'd weathered storms before, and together, we'd weather this one too.
"You're right," I said, resolve hardening my voice. "Now let's go sort out this mess with Hunter."
As we descended back into the basement lab, I tried to push aside my lingering concerns about Elliot and our strained relationship. No matter what I did, it wouldn't be easy. There was no immediate solution.
Right now, Hunter took precedence—and I owed it to him to ensure his safety and well-being.
However, as soon as we entered the lab, I knew that focusing solely on Hunter would prove challenging. Elliot sat upright on the makeshift bed, holding Stellan close to his chest, his eyes wide with worry as he watched Hunter convulse violently on the floor nearby. I felt sorry for them both.
"What's happening?" Elliot cried out, fear lacing his voice. "Is he okay?"
"Not yet," I murmured, kneeling down next to Hunter while Marcus administered the sedative. Within moments, Hunter's seizures subsided, though his breathing remained labored and shallow. As I said, it was going to have to suffice.
Elliot scooted to the edge of the bed, reaching out to take my hand. "Please tell me he's going to be okay," he whispered, desperation clear in his hazel eyes. He was always empathetic with everyone, except the people that tried to hurt him.
I squeezed his fingers gently, offering what little comfort I could muster. "We'll do everything in our power to help him, love. But you should prepare yourself for the worst-case scenario."
He bit his lower lip, nodding bravely. His courage was one of the reasons I was proud of him.
"Okay," he choked out. "Just promise me that… once this is over, we'll talk. About us. About everything."
The raw vulnerability in his voice sent a pang of guilt through me. I'd been so focused on protecting him, on ensuring his physical safety, that I'd neglected the emotional aspect of our relationship. And now, it felt like we were teetering on the brink of disaster.
"I promise," I said firmly, gazing into those beautiful, tormented eyes. "Once this nightmare is behind us, we'll sit down and hash out whatever needs hashing."
A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, giving me hope. Regardless, first we had to survive this ordeal intact.
With Hunter stabilized and safely transferred to an upstairs room, we turned our attention to the rest of the pack. Thankfully, the majority seemed unharmed, save for a few minor injuries and bruises sustained during the skirmish. However, the true extent of the damage wasn't immediately apparent; the electromagnetic pulse had rendered most communication devices useless, leaving us isolated and cut off from the outside world.
Nonetheless, we pressed onward, determined to restore order amidst the chaos. While Marcus coordinated the cleanup efforts outside, I rallied the remaining members, organizing search parties to locate any missing or injured packmates. Simultaneously, I tasked others with assessing the structural integrity of our buildings and gathering supplies to repair any damaged infrastructure. That all happened after the Serpents realized they couldn't win.
Throughout it all, Elliot stayed by my side, his presence a constant source of strength and resilience. Despite the turmoil around us, he maintained an unwavering optimism, his belief in our ability to overcome adversity never wavering. Even when faced with the daunting prospect of raising our child in such uncertain times, he remained steadfast, his determination to provide Stellan with a safe and loving home unyielding.
Days blurred into weeks as we worked tirelessly to rebuild and heal. The Serpents' attack had left deep scars, both literal and figurative, but our pack proved resilient, rallying together to face each challenge head-on.
***
The rhythmic rise and fall of Stellan's chest against Elliot's was a mesmerizing sight. He'd fallen asleep nursing, a tiny hand curled around Elliot's finger, and the quiet domesticity of the scene settled something within me I hadn't realized was fractured. We were in our bedroom now, weeks after the attack, the house slowly returning to a semblance of normalcy. But the normalcy felt… fragile. Like a carefully constructed facade masking a deeper unease. And that, I thought, was something difficult to change.
I sat on the edge of the bed, watching them, a knot tightening in my chest. We hadn't truly talked since that promise amidst the chaos, the one about hashing things out. I'd been deliberately avoiding it, burying myself in pack duties, in rebuilding, in anything that would keep me from confronting the growing distance between us.
I knew it wouldn't be easy, so that was why I kept avoiding it.
It was cowardly, perhaps. But facing Elliot's disappointment, his quiet sadness… it was a weight I wasn't sure I could bear.
"He looks so peaceful," Elliot murmured, not looking up. "Like he doesn't have a care in the world."
"He's lucky," I replied, the word catching in my throat. "He doesn't know about the messes we make."
A sigh escaped Elliot's lips. He finally lifted his gaze, meeting mine with a weary sadness that pierced through my defenses.
"Is that what you think of me, Damon?" He murmured. "A mess?"
The question hit me like a physical blow. "No," I said quickly, reaching for his hand. "Never. That's not what I meant."
He allowed me to take his hand, but his grip was limp, lacking the usual spark of defiance. "Then what did you mean? Because it feels like you're barely looking at me these days. Like I'm just… here. Existing. A vessel for our son."
The truth of his words stung. I had been distant. Distracted. Lost in my own internal battles, I'd failed to see the toll it was taking on him.
"I've been busy," I offered lamely, knowing how inadequate it sounded.
"Busy?" Elliot's voice rose slightly, a flicker of anger igniting in his eyes. "Busy ignoring me? Busy avoiding any real connection? Busy pretending like everything is fine when it clearly isn't?"
He was right, of course. I was a master of deflection, of burying my emotions beneath layers of duty and control. But Elliot saw through it all. He always did.
"I didn't want to burden you with my problems," I admitted. "With the pack, with the Serpents… I didn't want to add to your stress."
"Burden me?" Elliot scoffed. "Damon, we're partners. We're supposed to share these things. I want to know what's going on in your head, what's weighing you down. I want to be there for you, just as I know you want to be there for me."
His words were a balm to my wounded pride, a gentle reminder of the bond we shared. But it wasn't enough. Not yet.
"It's more than just the pack," I confessed, my gaze dropping to our intertwined hands. "It's… it's the responsibility. The fear. I lost an omega before, Elliot. I lost a child. I can't… I can't bear the thought of losing either of you."
The silence that followed was suffocating. I braced myself for his anger, his accusations, but they didn't come. Instead, he squeezed my hand, his touch warm and reassuring.
"You won't," he said softly. "I'm not going anywhere, Damon. And neither is Stellan."
He shifted slightly, adjusting Stellan in his arms. "But you have to let me in. You have to let me share the weight with you. I'm not some fragile flower who needs to be protected. I'm a capable, intelligent omega. And I'm your partner."
His words resonated deep within me, stripping away the layers of guilt and self-doubt that had been suffocating me for weeks. He was right. I had been treating him like porcelain, afraid to touch him, to truly connect with him for fear of breaking something.
"I know," I said. "I'm sorry. I've been a fool."
He smiled, a genuine, heart-stopping smile that reached his eyes. "You're a stubborn, overprotective fool," he corrected. "But you're my fool."
I chuckled, relief flooding through me. "And you're my omega."
"And our son's father," he added, his gaze drifting towards Stellan. "Which means we have a lot of work to do. This isn't just about us anymore."
He was right. Stellan had changed everything. He'd brought a new level of responsibility to our lives. It was daunting, terrifying even, but also… exhilarating.
"What do you want?" I asked. "What do you need from me?"
Elliot considered my question for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "I want you to be present," he said finally. "Not just physically, but emotionally. I want you to talk to me, to share your fears and your hopes. I want you to remember that I'm not just a baby-bearer, but a person. A partner. A lover."
"And I want you to stop trying to fix everything yourself," he continued. "Let me help. Let me be your strength when you're weak. Let me be your anchor when you're lost."
I nodded, my heart swelling with love and gratitude. "I will," I promised. "I will try my best."