Skye #2
A panic attack. It seems too light a term for the feeling of an ocean of terror dragging me under and dashing me against the rocks.
No words come to me, my thoughts a knotted yarn that I start working through, bit by bit, drawing from the strength of my quiet Alpha.
He doesn’t need me to speak, content to just hold me.
“I’m not going to ask where you went, but is there anything we can do to help avoid another one?
” Clay holds me tighter, peppery scent strong as he floods the nest with it.
He’s always been one of the more reserved Alphas in the pack, but he’s always been there when I’ve needed him as well. It dawns on me.
“You have them too, don’t you?”
Nodding, his fingers find their way into my hair, stroking through the dark red waves.
Before he can tell me his story, the door is knocked twice before it opens, revealing Teddy in his gray sweats and black polo.
One leg of the sweats is tucked up and tied into itself, a crutch in either hand as he makes his way in quickly so the door doesn’t swing back on him.
I know he’ll stay there and ask for permission to enter my nest, so I beat him to it and wave him over, warming as he grins.
“Please tell me you didn’t leave Fury in charge of the food?
” Clay groans, rubbing his face before reaching out to drag the Beta into the nest. Teddy collapses in an undignified heap and a breathless ‘oof’ as the crutches clatter just outside the rim of the bed, tucking himself more comfortably to my front and once more sandwiching me between two of my men.
Rolling to my back, I feel Clay reaching down and nearly yelp until he touches the stump that marks Teddy’s missing calf, kneading it firmly and drawing a relieved moan from the other man.
The casual touch and comfort between them strikes me through the chest with a mixture of happiness that my pack is loved and supportive, but I’m also…
Jealous. I shouldn’t be, they’ve treated me so carefully since they brought me home, and honestly?
I couldn’t have asked for a better pack.
The lovey-dovey easiness will come with time.
Time that I think I’m willing to give them.
“Of course not! I’ve made that mistake once,” Teddy sasses, tucking his arm across my stomach to hold Clay's hip, “Bex took control as usual. Luc is watching over him, and Atty is stuffing his face.”
“How unusual,” I deadpan, then burst into a quiet bout of laughter, my men joining me as the calm settles again and Clay begins to tell me about himself.
“Teddy is the reason I have such bad anxiety,” He starts, laughing even as the humor drains from him, “When I first joined this pack, I was a straight little trust fund baby whose Mama babied him too much. Daddy Moore is one of the scientists who helped develop the cure for Bond Sickness.”
My eyebrows shoot up at that. Bond sickness has been a plague on all designations, and it used to be a sure death sentence, draining a person until they were just an empty shell of themselves and wasted away.
Nobody really knew why it happened, just that the bond didn’t seem to be fully complete and started rotting them from the inside out.
It was most common in Betas and Omegas, which was understandable when you realized how much less energy they had compared to Alphas—whether it is their aura, soul, or whatever else powered us—Alphas just have more of it.
Clay continues with an apologetic shrug, moving his hand from Teddy’s leg to over my waist as well, caging me between them, “In comes ‘Mister-Hat-and-Chaps’ over there and phew.” Fanning his face, we all snicker, “I met him at a pack event in the city, me in my fancy suit, him in his ranch gear. Love at first sight. I think we bonded that night.”
“Whilst you had my knees over your shoulders,” Teddy chirps in, cackling, “Straight, my lily-white ass, rich boy!”
“Wait, I thought you met when you found Atlas and then met Lucas at lunch?” I ask, things are not adding up.
“I met Atty the next day, after I had done the walk of shame, thinking I could run away from a bond…” Clay's face is turning slowly tomato colored, “But turns out, you can’t run from fate, or your mate.”
Grinning at both of them, my cheeks heat as a burst of rummy perfume explodes around us, drawing groans from them both, “So what happened? How did that start your panic attacks? Seems like a pretty good story so far.” All the air leaves Clay, and seeing my Alpha stressed and so deflated amps up my purring whilst Teddy rubs his arm in silent support.
“Did you know that if you remove a bond mark, it breaks the bond?”
He could have sooner told me the pigs are soaring through the air outside, and I’d be less shocked. Shaking my head rather violently, I feel his tired exhale as the memories weigh on him.
“Not many people know, it’s a pretty closely guarded secret in designation medicine, for obvious reasons.
Can’t have people hacking off bits of Omegas to kidnap or traffic them.
I bit Teddy that night, sunk my teeth into his calf as I fucked him.
We were a pack for maybe… Two? Three years?
Then last year, he had his accident.” Clay is swallowing hard now, choking against the lump in his throat, even as his tears leave streaks down his face, “The wire had… Degloved his leg, removing the bond mark. I panicked, left Atlas to clear the center, and rushed home. Took the ATV out expecting to find a body and made it just in time to get him to the hospital with Lucas doing what he could to keep him with us until someone brought a vehicle. My therapist says it's some sorta’ PTSD, but… Well, I dunno. I just know a little about how to deal with them.”
My poor sweet Alpha. Clay is the quiet port in the storm in this pack, one of its pillars, and it grips my heart in jagged claws to think of what he’s been through—both him and Teddy together.
My own hand moves down to join theirs, clasped above my hip, warmth radiating through my skin as I clutch at them.
Purring fills the nest, only my own as I comfort my pack, trapped between them and trying desperately to fill the well of sadness with something else, something new.
Clay’s purr starts up like a diesel engine, a little off-tune at first, then stronger as he collects himself, until two-thirds of the nest are rumbling away and we’re melting a little.
“Brrr,” Teddy hums, and I snort, feeling Clay rock in silent laughter, “I can’t join the purring, I’m afraid, doesn’t sound quite right.”
“You don’t have to,” I murmur, turning to scent mark him with my cheek, bestowing his shoulder and collarbone with hints of rum, lemon, and mint, “You’re perfect as it is.
Too many Alphas spoil the nest and all that.
Betas are important too, plus who else is going to help me keep these knotheads in check? ”
I mean it as a joke, as a way to ease the doubt and worry that Teddy has, though the silence stretches a little longer than I’d like, and I open my mouth to apologize, looking at my Beta.
Except… The look in his eyes, like I hung the very moon and stars, quiets me.
Running a hand through his floppy curls, he drags me into him, ignoring the Alpha growl from the other side.
“You’re just perfect, Skye, you’re everything I ever wanted.”