Chapter 7
Rourke had searched the entire pack house, and neither Ulric nor Ezra was there. What the fuck was going on? He could call Ulric, but he didn't want to. Didn't want to appear as if he was worried. And he wasn't worried, he was...Where the fuck were they?
Snarling, he walked out into the yard. The gravel crunched underneath his feet. Just as he was about to turn back inside, he spotted a large figure, who could only be Ulric, walking up the gravel road with someone in his arms.
Fear clawed at Rourke's chest, and he was running before he could reflect on what he was doing. Had the fucking witches attacked already? As he got closer, he slowed his steps. The scent of blood was strong, but the person in Ulric's arms was Ezra, not one of his shifters.
Ezra's head swayed with each step Ulric took, and Rourke's claws split his skin.
Had they attacked one of their own? Witches were vicious, but would they attack someone from their own clan?
He suspected Ezra was a sacrifice on their part, someone they deemed they could be without, but still.
Maybe it was an attempt on Rourke's life.
Why hadn't he sensed Ezra losing consciousness?
As his mate, he should've felt it happen.
Maybe it was different when it was a mating between a shifter and a witch.
Ulric's eyes were those of his wolf, his teeth didn't fit in his mouth, and Rourke noted his hands were clawed.
"What happened?" He closed the distance between them. Why hadn't Ulric sounded an alarm? The smell of magic underneath the blood tickled his nose. It didn't have the rotten scent he'd smelled when meeting witches in battle, but it was still magic.
"He warded the grounds." Ulric flashed teeth as if it was Rourke's fault.
"What?"
Ezra's eyes were closed, but he winced when Ulric tightened his hold on him, so Rourke didn't think he was unconscious. He took in his bloody hands and arms and shook his head to try to clear his vision when it grew hazy.
"I went looking for you when we got back from the hunt, but you weren't in your room, so I chatted a bit with Ezra, and he said he could set up wards around the territory.
I said no, things crossed over all the time, and we'd only go mad having to check everything around the clock.
But he said he could set it up so we only were alerted if a witch crossed over, and I thought it sounded like a great idea. "
Rourke nodded. It was a great idea.
"Yeah, then he started cutting himself." Ulric pushed Ezra at him, and Rourke had no choice but to take him. The heat in his chest let out a happy sigh, but he ignored it as he took in the many, many cuts on Ezra's arms and palms. What the fuck?
"Now what?"
Ulric shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. "He connected it to me somehow. He said he can connect it to you too or more people if we want."
"And it will do what?"
"Alert us when someone crosses the border of his magic."
Rourke narrowed his eyes. "Alert us when someone steps onto our land?"
Ulric nodded, and Rourke curled his arms tighter around Ezra. It was why they never could get the drop on the witches. They always knew when they were approaching. He looked at Ezra. Could they trust him, though?
"Fucking witches."
Ulric nodded; his wolf was still close to the surface. "I didn't think he'd have to nearly kill himself to do it."
How fragile were witches? "Isn't he healing?"
"Not like us." Ulric turned Ezra's left hand to study his palm. "These are hours old."
Rourke grimaced. They weren't actively bleeding, but they didn't look as if they planned on disappearing anytime soon. Did all witches heal this slowly or was it only Ezra? If it was all of them, it was good news.
He scanned the surroundings. He'd told Due they needed to focus on building their defenses. They had their land now. They didn't need more. The goal should be to defend what they had, and with wards, if they worked, they were one step closer to being able to do it.
The scent of fear filled the air, and Rourke looked down only to find Ezra staring at him with wide eyes. A second later, he was pushing at Rourke to be let down.
"Easy." Rourke gently put his feet on the ground. He was so tiny. "You should rest."
Ezra shoved his hands away and winced as one or more of the wounds broke open. A coppery tang filled the air, and Rourke had a silly notion of licking the blood off him. "And clean up."
Ezra nodded and swayed a little before turning toward the pack house and walking off.
"Maybe make sure he eats something." Ulric pursed his lips.
"We should have a meeting. Gather the others in the office, and I'll be in soon."
* * * *
Ezra was too tired to care if someone looked at him as he walked through the pack house to Rourke's room.
He'd overdone it. He'd believed he could set up a ward around the closest area, but he should've known better.
He was a weak witch. Useless. The last thing he remembered was setting the last marker and connecting it to Ulric.
He must've passed out when he'd done it.
"Ezra."
He whirled around and held up his hands to ward off...Rourke. Rourke stopped several steps away from him. "Are you okay?"
Ezra nodded.
"I'll get you something to eat, okay?"
When Ezra didn't reply, his shoulders slumped, and he headed out the door. It was much easier to talk to Ulric. It shouldn't have been, shouldn't have mattered which of the monsters he was talking to. Though he was starting to forget Ulric was a monster.
Every time he saw Rourke, he was reminded of what his hand had felt like curled around his hip as he thrust into him.
He didn't know what to do with the memory.
It sent a heated wave through him at the same time as it made him want to run and hide.
Everyone outside the door also knew Rourke's hands had been on him, and what he'd done.
They'd be reminded of what had happened whenever they noticed Ezra.
Walking into the bathroom, he washed his hands and arms with soap and warm water. A few cuts broke open, and he grimaced at the pink rivulet disappearing into the sink.
"Venison stew from the slow cooker. I think Tala made it, so you're in luck. She knows how to cook."
Ezra looked up to find Rourke watching him from the doorway.
"Can you connect me to the ward too?"
He nodded. "We need to go out to one of the pinpoints though, and I think Ulric took the knife." He didn't have it.
"Tomorrow. Eat and rest. I need to talk to the pack.
" He lingered as if waiting for Ezra to say something, but he didn't know what to say.
It was best not to say anything since Rourke didn't appear upset with him at the moment.
He most likely didn't know how basic the ward was, and explaining it to him would only make him more disappointed in him.
Ezra had been a disappointment all his life, so he was used to it, but it would be nice if he could get through his second day here without reminding Rourke of how useless he was. He didn't believe he'd forgotten, but...
"Do you need band-aids?"
Ezra shook his head.
"Eat." He pointed at him, then he was gone.
Patting his arms and hands dry, he walked into the room, lured by the scent.
There was a bowl and a spoon on the kitchen table, and Ezra more or less inhaled the stew.
It was warm and hearty. About halfway through the portion, he slowed his eating and allowed his muscles to unclench.
Darkness was rapidly growing denser outside the window.
Two days, and he hadn't been eaten yet. Apart from Rourke biting him, of course. It was going better than he'd anticipated.
After having washed the dishes and having one of the cuts breaking open again, he brushed his teeth and dragged himself to bed.
A few minutes later, he was shivering, teeth shattering.
Fuck. He'd used up all his reserves. He crawled in underneath the cover to try to get his body to stop shaking.
Rourke had said to rest, he hoped it meant he was allowed to sleep.
* * * *