50. Zephyr
Zephyr
The pain meds are definitely working because I don’t care that Dad is scolding me for being, what was the word he used, reckless? Stupid? It doesn’t matter.
Mom is glued between my and Phoenix’s beds. One of each of our hands in hers. She’s purring and trying to stay calm. She even made a joke about all her sons under the same roof despite it not even being a holiday.
Onyx sits in the corner playing on his handheld video game and rolling his eyes every time Dad says something remotely disparaging about us.
It can’t be easy being the youngest Baron.
I pity him stuck at home for another year finishing up his undergrad degree, more than I pity myself in my current situation.
Hopefully he’ll be smart and get far away from this family and the toxic game they force us all to play.
I turn my head to Phoenix and fight off a smile. He’s pretending to be asleep. I know because every once in a while, he runs his thumb over the back of Mom’s hand when she squeezes it three times.
Closing my eyes, I brace against the weight of the world.
It’s so impossibly heavy. Everything that can go wrong did go wrong.
And now it’s a waiting game. Grisham and Xavier are down in surgery now with Honey.
Laz will apparently pull through, but he’s still under the knife as they try to patch him up.
The goal is that he’ll be well enough to fix his bond with Honey.
So, we can all bond and use our shadows and Honey’s glow to heal. To be a pack, finally.
That is, if she’s able to glow at all.
Grisham, despite Xavier advising that it wasn’t something they should discuss in our room, did caution that the surgery is extensive, and it might not be the sole cause of the issue.
I don’t like the alternative in all this. Weeks, if not months, of recovery time with our shadows working overtime to heal us. Some things might not ever be fully healed or as good as they were originally. We need an omega to glow. Our omega.
Dad was so quick to jump on the ‘it’s time you find a suitable omega, not one who needs help’ and ‘settle down with someone who will see your potential’ and ‘the sale provision is only about public sales, we have the money to be above that’ because obviously we’re untouchable even without our trust funds, and my parole is just an inconvenience.
I just yawn and pull the covers up over my head, in hopes it will block him out.
“Zephyr,” Phoenix groans, waking me up.
I try to roll, but a twinge has me remembering my stitches, and I stop. But I don’t open my eyes. “What?”
“No, idiot, get up.” Phoenix slurs a little at the end of his words. “Honey’s ready.”
Peeling one eye open, I look over at him. He’s sitting in a wheelchair with a nurse behind him.
I push up on the bed, and my pain meds must be wearing off because I finally feel a little of my injury as it hinders me from standing up.
“Easy.” A male voice comes from beside me, the opposite direction from Phoenix. “Let me unhook your IV first. I get it, I’d be anxious to see my omega too.”
He’s a beta but with hulking muscle mass. He probably makes us look small.
Begrudgingly and partly because of pain, I wait for the nurse to do his thing. He comes around to stand on the side of the bed closest to Phoenix and the door before folding down the side rails and helping me sit up.
“You’ve got walking orders if you’re feeling up to it, or I can get you a wheelchair.” He smiles while offering his hand out to me before cracking a joke. “And wheelchair races against your brother are out of the question.”
“I’ll walk.” Taking his hand, I pull up.
I grit my teeth against the pain. Stretching skin and muscle is way worse than being stabbed or sliced open. Getting shot is not on the list of things I’m willing to do twice. I try to lean on my shadow for support, but it’s not there. Instead, it’s working hard to heal my wounds internally.
I take two steps, and the nurse isn’t convinced. “Wheelchair races it is.”
I sit back on the bed, a little out of breath, perspiration forming at my hairline already starting to itch.
The nurse is back with a wheelchair in no time, and in an anti-race fashion, we follow Phoenix and his attendant down the hall, to an elevator, up a dozen or so floors, and then into an area decorated in soft pinks and greens. It’s very floral and bright.
Xavier is standing at a rolling computer midway down the next hallway, typing on a keyboard.
He waits for us to approach before turning to address us. He almost has a little bit of empathy in his eyes as he takes us in.
But that doesn’t spare us from his scolding.
“Alright, I know you only have one brain cell to split between yourselves, so I’ll say this simply.
She came through surgery just fine, she is healthy, she is glowing, and she, for whatever reason, loves you.
Don’t fuck it up. You both need to try to do as little as possible while claiming her.
No big movements, no fuck-boy sexcapades.
I don’t want to get the call that you’re bleeding all over one of my premium nesting suites or are having some sort of seizure because you two can’t be b —” Xavier sighs and scrubs his hand down his face.
That’s when I notice his bloodshot eyes and how his shoulders aren’t as rigid as they normally are. I’m shocked at his appearance and how he cut off his rant. It worries me, maybe more than it should, as he finishes.
“Behave. Get mated, heal, and get the fuck out of my nexus.”
He steps a few feet down the hallway before turning on his heel toward us again. “Oh, and you can thank me later, but as a precaution, I gave her a top-up on birth control.”
While Xavier walks away, the nurses help us through the door and into the nesting suite. It’s yellow and gilded gold. The lights are a warm yellow tone, but they’re dimmed way down.
Honey is lying on a giant nest bed, probably the largest I’ve ever seen, tucked right up against Lazarus. He’s in scrub pants while a hospital gown is wrapped around her. They’re awake and cuddling, and it looks like we may have interrupted a conversation.
The sight of them together, knowing what we’re about to do, has my cock twitching, which is awkward given the proximity of the nurse as he helps me to the bed near Lazarus.
Phoenix is ‘unloaded’ next to Honey on the other side.
We’re given a rundown — the large ‘mirror’ on the wall is actually a one-way mirror with the other side being an observation room where nurses are stationed.
Help buttons are scattered around the room and in the adjoining bathroom.
And after the safety brief, we’re finally left alone.
I don’t love the feeling of being watched. I don’t want anyone to see Honey as we take her. But I understand that all four of us have gone through surgery in the last twenty-four hours, and the fact that we’re all living to talk about it is a victory enough.
Before really lying down, Phoenix and I shrug off our gowns. Luckily, Mom thought ahead to bring us boxers to wear so we’re not completely exposed to the mirror’s watchful gaze.
The four of us lie in bed together, and Honey raises her hand to look at it. From where all of us are lying, we can see her.
The golden yellow light radiating from her skin is magical. I’ve seen Mom glow for our fathers, but nothing prepared me for how jaw dropping it would be to see my omega glowing for me. I could stare at her all day.
“So, I had no idea that I could just be happy and make myself glow like this.” She hums. “It’s pretty cool.”
“Hot.” Phoenix corrects her. “It’s pretty hot.”
“I mean, I am warm. They said I could go into estrus again because of the surgery, but they said it wasn’t likely.” Honey sighs, and I can’t tell if she’s happy or mad by that sound.
“Anyone else feel awkward about the spectator mirror?” Phoenix pushes up on the bed and looks over toward me and, subsequently, the mirror behind me.
“We’ll use the gowns to shield Honey as she claims each of us.” Lazarus hasn’t even opened his eyes yet. But his voice is the usual calm and steady cadence.
“What did I do wrong?” Honey’s voice is small and nearly silent, as if she doesn’t really want to ask the question aloud. “I claimed you, but it didn’t work.”
I roll to, luckily, my uninjured side, which hurts less, and look across at my pack.
“You need to bite the other side of my neck.” Lazarus squeezes his eyes shut tight, in pain or maybe at the memory.
“When I was cast out of House of Apostles, they cut my mating mark from my skin. It’s the only way to break the mating bond.
It also, from our now known experience, means I can’t be claimed there again. ”
“Oh,” Honey whispers.
“Damn. It’s a good thing we didn’t make it to their new place because that’s some sadistic shit, and I wouldn’t play nice had I known that,” Phoenix growls. “It sounds like Revenant didn’t do enough damage to that fucker’s new community.”
“There is time in the future to worry about what has or hasn’t happened. My failure is one of the things to talk about.” Lazarus stops for a second, and his chest rattles as he draws a breath. “But we can’t do anything about it lying here in this bed.”
Phoenix pushes up on his side of the bed, smoothing Honey’s hair back, and he lays kisses on her neck. She shivers. Then Phoenix whispers something into her ear.
Honey leans forward, her lips finding Lazarus’s cheek and kissing him.
His breathing stutters, and slowly he rolls his head to her. Their lips meet, and my cock throbs. Phoenix lets out a needy little whine as he continues to kiss down her neck. The bandage around his head catches in her hair, and he pulls it up out of the way with his hand.