Chapter 12 Grayson
The sense of urgency that's been buzzing beneath my skin intensifies when Orion calls. They found the rogue shifter that's been roaming our territory. They've got her at our in-house jail, a small outpost where we detain rogue or feral shifters while I determine punishment.
My alpha stirs restlessly. Something in Orion's voice sounded strained. For my typically reserved second-in-command to be that close to losing control, it's concerning.
I drive the UTV along the dirt road and park beside Orion's four-wheeler. Walking the length of the in-house jail—a long red building with cells on one side and a meeting hall on the other—I throw open the heavy door and stride inside, my patience wearing thin.
I make it one step before my entire world shifts.
Confusion at first. I'm disoriented by this unfamiliar scent slamming into me like a freight train, sending electrical currents through my body.
Jasmine flowers, with the sugary scent of dogwood blossoms—not gentle, not just sweet, but intoxicating.
And honey. Succulent, dripping, thick, viscous honey.
Like the sky opened up and baptized me in my favorite essence.
My alpha fucking howls, urging me forward, to move faster, and a guttural growl tears from my throat.
I'm so close to the scent I can taste it.
Then it hits me—something else underneath.
Something impossible.
I'm hurtling toward her now, slamming open the door. The scent detonates in my brain, on my tongue, down my throat.
But the blood and vomit slicing through is all wrong. The contradiction is so visceral, my wolf roars with pure, unfiltered rage.
Because she's not just any wolf.
She's an omega.
One of the precious few. To be protected. Cared for. Loved. Cherished.
And she's lumped in a bloody mess in my jail cell.
I can barely contain my raging wolf, but the moment I step closer, her eyes shoot up at me, and I'm struck with shock.
She's not just any wolf, and she's not just any omega.
She's my mate. In a bloody fucking mess on the jail floor. I let out a deep, soul-shaking roar, so full of power that the windows rattle.
Everything moves in slow motion.
Her eyes blaze with terror. One eye, actually, because the other is swollen shut.
Pink foam bubbles from between her lips.
Orion shifts, then the tiny wolf crumples to the ground.
I shove Orion aside before reaching for my moon-goddess-blessed mate.
He tries to hold me back, but the beast inside me drowns everything in thunderous roars.
My fingers tremble as they brush her bloodied face, my vision bleeding red at the edges.
"Mate, my mate," I chant, while I catalog every wound.
Each mark a death sentence for whoever caused it.
I try not to panic. I never fucking panic.
"She's an omega. An omega! What the fuck happened here?
Where's Doc? Someone answer me! Now!" My alpha bark explodes through the room like a shockwave, every wolf falling to their knees in submission.
Even my second falters before fighting back to his feet, then glowers at me.
"Be careful with her," he snaps.
"Tell me what happened! And where is the fucking doctor!"
"Doc is on his way, he should be here any minute." Orion's voice is steady. He attempts to pull the omega away from me, but my wolf snaps. "We're pack, Gray. Remember that. She's ours, not yours."
Everything hits me all at once. I have a mate. I have a fucking mate, and she's right here, and she's an omega, and she's fucking bleeding out. The room spins violently while my alpha claws for control, demanding I pick up the tiny wolf and take her away from this filthy place at once.
Orion turns toward the enforcers.
"What. Happened," he snarls, his dominance shaking the two enforcers where they stand. It's then that I realize they are responsible for this beautiful shifter beaten bloody.
I glance back down at her. She's breathing, but it's shaky. There's a hitch in her breath, her lungs rattling. She's a shifter. She will live. But the two shifters at my back may not.
I rise to my full height and turn. The air between us crackles with power. The scent of fear fills the room as Andrea and Stance drop their gazes, necks bared in submission.
"You found the rogue shifter," I say, my voice deceptively soft. "And discovered an omega in her place."
"It's not possible. How could an omega just be wandering around on her own? It has to be a trick. She's a witch—"
Andrea's accusation dies in her throat as my hand closes around her windpipe. Her feet leave the ground. I hurl her across the room, her body slamming into the wall, cracking the stone from impact.
Stance cowers behind his hands, not even attempting to defend himself. My enforcer—a fucking enforcer—reduced to this pathetic wretch.
What kind of abomination raises a hand to an omega? It is in our very DNA to protect them. So rare and sacred, it seems impossible they've done this. Unfathomable.
The crack of his neck reverberates through my knuckles when I slam my fist into his face. He drops like dead weight, head twisted at an awkward angle.
He's a shifter. He'll heal. I can't bring myself to give a shit either way.
Andrea's coughs cut through the haze, and I stalk back over to where I tossed her. Tires crunch on gravel, and it helps anchor me. I look down at this disgraced shifter. She begs and pleads. Apologizes. Claims ignorance.
But my mate's blood coats her hands. It's splattered across her boots, mixed with bits of hair and dirt.
I grip her head in one hand, holding her body up with the other, and snap her neck. She drops to the ground.
Like Stance, she'll probably live.
I feel a twinge of guilt. But all earlier feelings I had for Andrea are gone. Disappeared.
Whatever happened here, somehow, the blame lies with me.
Finally, Doc ambles through the door, no idea what hailstorm he's walking into. He sputters, mouth opens and closes. He inhales sharply, eyes widening as they take in the scene.
I'm still shaking with rage, jaw clenched so tight my teeth might crack, but I force it all down while Doc reacts quickly, rushing over to the omega heaped on the floor. He kneels down and begins examining her.
"Grayson."
I can't stop staring at her face. She should be healing faster. Some of the swelling should have gone down at least.
"Lune!" Orion snaps, louder this time, more insistent. He never calls me by my title because we are pack.
"What?" I snap back.
"You need to let go." That's when I realize I'm clutching her body close to mine. I don't even remember picking her up. Doc has a worried look on his face.
I shake my head and carry her out the door, both men at my back. I hear Doc asking Orion questions, but I tune them out, climbing into the back of Doc's truck. Orion climbs in beside me, and aside from shouting at Doc to hurry the fuck up, no other words are spoken.
We reach the clan's clinic five minutes later. It sits near the heart of our shifter town, among a cluster of outpost buildings.
Pack families more involved in day-to-day community life scatter along smaller roads that branch from the center of town, where we are now, closer to where my home stands, at one end of the main road.
The heart, as we call it. Five miles down, the road forks—one path leading to the wild shifters living in barracks, cabins, and dens, deep into the woods; the other winding toward the human towns below the mountain.
Outside the clinic, a lantern swings beneath the overhang. Dawn ascends, gray light seeping through the clouds.
There's magic in the full moon, and I curse the goddess for its absence tonight, since it would help my mate heal. I don't know what's wrong with her. She should be better by now. A little bit, at least.
Orion holds open the door, and I carefully carry my little wolf through the threshold. It's a small clinic, with only three private rooms for emergencies and intensive care. All are empty, thankfully. My clan is normally not so deranged.
Doc points to a bed, and I carefully release my sweet mate, taking a deep inhale of her calming jasmine and honey scent. My incisors descend, my wolf ready to bite and claim her, shocking myself and Orion. I growl when he shifts closer as if to protect her from me.
The logical side of my brain appreciates it. It's what my enforcers should have done the moment they found her.
But my possessive alpha side wants to rip his arms out of his sockets. He's pack, I remind my alpha. He chuffs in response.
I know we're going to have to share our pretty mate, but right now, with her injuries and rattling lungs, I can't stomach letting go.
Orion nods, like he knows what's going through my head. Probably the same thing going through his.
"Okay, let's see what's happened here, shall we?" Doc says, trying to infuse a sense of calm into our wolves. It barely helps.
Doc palpates her body. He freezes when I growl, but shoots me a chastising glare as he works his way down her chest and abdomen. Very few can get away with that, and Doc is one of them.
"Maybe you should wait outside," Orion says quietly but firmly, and that helps too.
"Keep going. I can handle it."
Doc hums, making comments as he goes. Broken ribs. Collapsed lung. Shattered orbital bone. Broken nose. Broken hand. Broken foot. Each word out of his mouth a lashing.
"She is your fated mate?" Doc asks without looking up.
Orion answers for the both of us. "There's no doubt."
I look up and meet Doc's eyes. His beta is there at the surface, listening. A fated mate is rare but not unheard of. An omega, even rarer. To have both? Right here in front of me? Astronomical.
I nod, then look back down at the little omega. Face mottled in bruises, shiny and raw with swelling, rivulets of blood dripping from her forehead. Eye swollen shut. My sweet mate, our first encounter, and it's shadowed by this criminal offense. Shame washes over me.