by Dakila Reed
"You..." Skye's voice could barely be heard. "You're sick. They’ll know something’s wrong!”
"Shss." Barron dropped something to the ground. Skye caught a glimpse of his phone, the screen cracked useless. "They won't. You texted them. You went back to the motel because you're feeling unwell."
Dread crashed into Skye, slamming and draining him almost out of breath.
"Now, turn around please," Adviser Barron urged. He turned him around, willing him like a puppet, resting his heavy chin down on Skye's shoulder. There was a hint of satisfaction in his voice as he showed Skye the almost endless maze within the darkened forest. "Pretty, isn't it?"
Skye jerked his head away. He hated the scorching breath grazing at the side of his neck. But the man held him in place.
"Now I want you to run," Barron whispered into Skye's ear. "Run away. Fast. Give me a sweet chase Skye."
When Skye remained rooted to the ground, Barron pushed him ungently forward. At a loss, Skye glanced over his shoulder. A tiny, tiny hope that this was all just a big joke slowly bleeding away from him. Barron was looking all over him expectantly. Licking his lips. Enjoying the very confusion painted on Skye's face.
"Run, Skye."
A scent of pure dark lust exploded in the air. It sent Skye staggering back, his legs barely supporting his weight. Eye to eye with this man he finally saw his real colors. Skye turned around, forcing his knees and his brain to come work as one. His mind shouted faster. But his legs buckled beneath him, earning a chuckle from behind.
"Dear Skye... Larri had already covered a far distance during his time than you are doing."
The very name scorched him. Fury, disbelief fueled his boneless limbs. He crawled, grabbing a handful of dirt, clawing to a bigger boulder to stand up. Then he moved one heavy leg forward. One after another. Until his unsteady steps gained speed. His brisk walking turned to running. And his running turned to a run for his life.
He widened his eyes. Scattered trees blocked him. What he thought was clear would surprise him wrong. Maneuvering to stop, then swerve was a challenge for his swimming brain. Whatever he’d been made to inhale earlier, it wasn't going away. At all.
His foot caught on a protruding large root. He slammed to a branch, breaking it with his fall. He didn't even bother picking up his other shoe. He ran. He stumbled and still ran. The only loud sound within the darkness was his own ragged breathing and his protesting heart. His lungs close to the limit. His joints screaming pain at him. But flashes of Larri Devlin flooded his head. And he could only wish to go farther. Faster.
Shift! Shift! Shift! Skye cried in his mind. He jumped over a huge rock. Using it as leverage, he leaped. And he soared. Only to come crashing mercilessly down on a heap of a tangled mess. His cheek was burning. His breath a rasp from a broken rib. And a mind-shattering pain in his right leg came on top of everything. His wolf and his panicked thoughts couldn't focus as one. He was as human as he was seconds ago.
He whimpered, swallowing a bitterness at seeing his pursuer's shadow. Looming over him. Leering at him.
Barron's lips curled menacingly, yanking Skye's shirt collar, he dragged him forward. He peered at Skye's eyes with a triumphant glee. Their faces almost touching. "Guess this is the farthest you can get..."
Twisting, Skye tried to elbow the man in the middle of his chest. But it lacked strength. The older man just laughed.
The wind surged. And at the space of one second to the other Skye's vision tumbled all over. He found himself pressed to the ground, his right cheek sharply digging into the stony ground. From his own loud gasps, the sound of faint running water somewhere called to him.
"Why protest? What's the use of preserving yourself for an alpha who doesn't want you in a way you want him?"
Skye whimpered. He knew that wasn't true. He struggled beneath the man. But Barron was older, bigger, and an alpha set to have his way. Skye was drowning from lack of air. The heavy weight pressing his back was extended down to his chest. The offending sound of belts being undone was almost lost to Skye's senses. Refusing to lay like a dead fish, he reached out from behind with his good arm, scratching at the man's face. A small thrill of satisfaction came to him as he smelled the scent of blood other than his. A thrill which didn't last long. The alpha yanked a handful of Skye’s hair. He pulled. And slammed him back to the ground. Pain exploded to the side of Skye’s head. His eyes blurred. Tears coming unstoppable at the corners of his eyes.
Skye quited, floating in the middle of nightmare and shock.
Noticing that Skye had gone completely immobile, Barron rolled him over, grinning down on the worn and bleeding omega. "You've been ripe enough for a long time now," he crooned as his huge hands searched the skin under Skye's shirt. "Our supreme alpha keeps a close eye on you though. Thank you for bringing yourself in here."
With the man finding a nub and twisting hard, Skye sucked a breath. A pained cry draining from him.
The man ripped open Skye's shirt, shredding it like it was nothing. "I've always wanted a male omega you know? They're not as tasty as female ones. Jhoana?" the man laughed. "She's a fine lady. But she couldn't satisfy me. And the last one had been long five years. At least her death had been useful.”
Skye patted the moist ground, felt a rock with his fingertips, hanging on to it like an anchor.
Barron smirked at him, leaning down, getting a lick at his collar bone. The alpha hummed. Intoxicated he began sucking on the omega’s neck.
Skye shut his eyes, forcing himself to think.
"If someone attacks you and you’re in a compromising situation, put all your strength and hit them in the head." Rustom's voice echoed from somewhere deep within him. He could vaguely remember this. Rustom was pointing at the center of Jame's eyes, or around the temples. "Hit them here. Hard. Then run. For the love of everything, Skye. Run. And I'll be there before you know it."
Skye bit the temptation to shout, just him allowing the vile licks on the side of his neck. The hair on his back standing on end with disgust. Then Barron leaned back, grinning viciously above him.
"That's the good choice. I won't hurt you. Promise."
Waiting for an odd moment, Skye hammered the jagged rock at the man’s left temple. With Barron reeling from shock, it gave Skye the time to move and wiggle free. Despite his aching body, he got up and ran. He tried to shift once again, but he was too disoriented, too battered to focus. He fell to the moist ground with an awkward splash of mud.
Whether he was crying or not, Skye didn't even know. Nothing was making sense in his body. He couldn't tell whether the liquid sensation on the side of his face was tears, mud, blood, or all. Unable to move, unable to shift, he opened his mouth to shout. But nothing came. Only a wheezing sound which sounded horrifyingly weak. Despair flooded him. At the sight of Barron's massive frame coming closer. At the sight of a swamp serving as his dead end.
"Bitch. The chase is over."
Skye bit his lip. Hard. Barron's lustful scent was warped by anger. So intense that Skye knew fighting hard wasn't going to save him.
Then a flash of black leapt from the darkness, so fast Skye almost didn't see it. He tried to move around from where he was laying like a heap. But his body refused to move. His chest to the ground he could only turn his head sideways, watching through heavy-lidded eyes what was going on. He could only look from the corner of his vision as the massive jet black wolf came hurtling Barron, shoving the adviser against a tree. The tree trembled from the impact, scattering leaves all around them like a mellow and lazy dream.
Never had Skye seen this. This mammoth of a black wolf, deadly quiet, its breathing slow and calculating. It looked over Skye briefly with glowing golden eyes. So intense they looked like rippling fire. Skye had wanted to nod. To twitch his lips into a 'hey'. But everything in his body was in slow motion the massive wolf had turned away again, snarling at the smug criminal.
One moment Barron was wiping blood from the corner of his lips. The next thing he was
a bundle of large deep brown form, lunging forward with sharp long teeth bared in wild challenge.
Sounds of footsteps, loud and heavy vibrated through the moist ground. Through the narrow slits of his eyes, Skye could see the district enforcers circling the entire perimeter, while a pair of strong but gentle sure hands started roving all over his body. He couldn't feel the touches, he couldn't even make out words. He was beginning to succumb to the numbing relief and safety at the sight of that beautiful black wolf. He watched with fading consciousness the tangle of the huge black wolf against a reddish brown. Both snarling. Both in a dominating dance of death.
Skye would have laughed out loud if he could. The newbie enforcer on his left side had his jaws almost touching the ground. It might have been a shock he only stood in silence. In shock appreciation. In awe. At the disparity between the always chilling, joking mess of a man, to the one before them. Merciless. The supreme alpha wolf baring bloodstained teeth.
Blood. The scent of it filled the air like the plague. Two forms collided in the air, one falling back down. The other calmly circling around his prey.
The piercing howl of an anguished triumph. The unmistakable pained whimpers. The hushes of awe and disbelief. All was a distant background noise. Too shaken, too tired, and too hurt, Skye finally let the darkness take him away.
Rustom killed Barron. Almost.
He'd never felt this before. His mind was the quiet eye of a storm, while everything in his way suffered the disaster he brought. An anger so deep it boiled down to his very nerves. A feeling of seething fury that awoken every inhumane instincts in him. And all of these raging emotions came into a weird searing calmness.
He could still remember everything. Tearing flesh underneath the brown wolf's throat. Savoring the rush of blood spilling on the ground. Thoroughly enjoying the sight of weeping flesh, the sight of broken bones underneath the moonlight. Looming over what was left of Adviser Barron.
"Have you calmed down yet?"
Rustom opened his eyes. His gaze met the car ceiling. The scenery by the windows a blur of dark blotches. "I am calm."
"I mean, to a more humane kind of calm."
Rustom sighed, closing his eyes once more. "I am calm," he repeated.
James shook his head as he slowed down the car, allowing the rest of the district enforcer vehicles gain more distance ahead. The red taillights in front almost disappeared from a slope, coming on sight again when they came to the highway.
"And that is when everyone gets scared of you. Don't you know that?"
After a long, long contemplative silence, an arc with crisscrossing arrows came into view. At the far distance it looked so small, signaling them fast approaching the outer borders of Sierra Nadre. The faint silhouette of mountains at the backdrop painted everything familiar. Home. Family. District. He balled his hands on his knees, not bothering to pull the blanket that had slipped off of his naked frame. Residues of his blood, and more of Barron's clinging to his chest and arms.
"I could have killed him."
Glancing to the rear-view mirror, James pursed his lips. "You could. But you didn't."
Rustom narrowed his eyes at the medical van they were following. On its left side was an enforcers truck. And on its left was a motorbike, driven by Regem Wayne. "Finishing him off is too lenient..."
James cleared his throat.
"Let him taste the hell on Earth, before the hell underground." He darted to his beta's expression. The other man's jaws were set and tense, his body posture rigid, obviously awaiting for order. "I want nobody in the district to know what happened tonight. Let the people of Sierra Nadre eventually weep for the loss of Adviser Barron, the good and kind man. They don't have to suffer the betrayal we all witnessed and have their trusts be scarred for life." He grinded his teeth, the hint of the faintest smile visible. "The Allied Districts Hounds will deal with him."
The beta nodded once. And Rustom knew his words were already a done command.
* * * *
Softly, Rustom closed the door behind him. Without ceremony, without even a tentative glance around the room. Why would he? He'd been in this room for consecutive times now. The warm yellow lamp light from the bedside table was as usual spilling into the small, cozy room. It painted everything a touch golden. Even the scent of chamomile permeated his senses, mingling but not overpowering the natural lemon grass scent of the man he came to see.
He approached with careful steps, stopping and lingering for a few seconds at the side of the bed. He regarded Skye's sleeping face for a while and nodded once. "Yup. You're looking much better," he murmured before grabbing the steel chair tucked underneath the bedside table. And then he just sat there. Quietly. Silently. Letting the wee hours of the night trickle away.
The hospital had been giving Skye sleep inducing medications to make him recuperate faster. His cuts had already clotted, dried, and would soon peel away with no scarring. The broken bone in Skye's leg and his bruised ribs have already fixed themselves, and with proper more sleep and rest, would be back in shape in no time. Times like these made Rustom very grateful. That aside from medicine, their bodies had its own healing and mending capabilities.
He watched how sometimes Skye's lashes would flutter. He wondered if the dream Skye was having was good enough. Nice enough. After all the man had been through, he could use some happy dreams. "Marshmallows falling from the sky?" Rustom softly asked, chuckling at the end. He knew Skye would totally dig that. "Heal right away. I know you're sick of hospital food, you glutton."
Rustom ignored the soft click of the room's door behind him. The door partially opened, revealing an equally tired but smugly smiling James. Jules waved from behind the other beta and disappeared shortly after. He could see all of it through the room's glass-paned windows. He stared at Jame's knowing grin. James stared back without backing. As the seconds ticked by with James just staring back at him through their vague reflections, Rustom's impatience grew.
"What?" he hissed. He would have snarled if he didn't care that Skye might wake up.
"Maybe you should tell him all that marshmallows and stuff when he's awake?"
Rustom shook his head. "I'm busy."
Leaning to the door frame, James crossed his arms. "We all know that. But it's been five days already. You come here at night like a phantom. It's weird."
"Between sending the scum to AD Hounds quietly, fabricating his disappearance to the district, telling the Barron family why we’re doing this, and the usual issues of the district… I've just no time."
“Excuses, excuses,” James retorted softly. “Seriously… nothing’s the same since that night. Nothing’s the same with you. Something changed.”
“Shut up.”
James pursed his lips, regarding him pensively. "I'm telling you this not just as your beta who's in no hurry to find a new supreme alpha in case you just suddenly dropped dead on us. I'm telling this as your friend too. Rest. Go home. Sleep. Since when's the last time you've slept Rustom? Skye will kill you."
Rustom tugged the blanket over Skye properly for the sake of doing something. But when James talked like this Rustom knew James could read him. Just like how he could read them much the same. He glanced over his shoulder and offered a small, tired smile. James shook his head in exasperation, walked over and stood beside him.
"Our Skye is safe. He's right in front of you sleeping and healing. You've got nothing to worry about now."
Rustom nodded, but he couldn't ignore the tightness in his throat. He couldn't even voice out that every time he closes his eyes, the sight of Skye slumped motionless on that muddy ground haunted him to no end. That sometimes he wondered if his dream had come true.
He'd lost a lot of dear people in his life. But the mere thought and scent of Skye's blood in the air tipped his balance. He almost reached the precipice. It was scary. So frightening. That things like this he could've just brushed off as the end, as the closing page of a district issue, still was rattling him inside.
* * * *
He chose to walk that morning. To think. To ponder things that have been cluttering round and round in his mind. His boots dragged along the pavement. The sound a weird source of comfort. The district was just slowly waking up. The sunlight already boasting all its glory.
Halfway to the slope going to his parents' house, now his own, he stopped. He turned around and watched the large expanse of the district he calls home. A little down the line after a huge playground, came the green roof of one of the smallest houses in Sierra Nadre. Skye's house. A house Rustom knew so well. A house he knew was still empty since James and Jules were busy doting on the youngest one in their group. Rustom gave it a last look before continuing with his trek.
The line of trees leading to his house acted as temporary shields from severe sunlight, or a sudden downpour. At the end, he noticed a white pick-up parked inside his open drive-way. Rustom smiled a little. He knew Reece was there waiting. Probably killing himself with his own cooking, or tiring his eyes reading back-issues of weird magazines.
He opened the massive oak door. One of the few original things that remained after numerous renovations. He tossed his keys to the transparent bowl resting on top of a narrow shelf, toed his boots off and slipped into his comfortable house slippers.
Reaching the end of the hallway, it opened to a large living room. The huge windows were wide open, allowing the abundant entrance of sunshine. He stopped, watching Reece look up from what he was reading. The sunlight was as bright as Reece's hair. A warmth filled inside Rustom as Reece graced him a welcoming smile.
The omega closed his glossy magazine, stood and walked over to him. Light and chaste was the kiss the blond planted on his cheek roughened by days-old stubbles. "I'll make you tea. I practiced well."
