by Marcy Jacks
Stefan nodded, his platinum scales also forming a protective layer over his skin.
Even though he was missing a few scales, Marxus figured he needed to show off what he had, as well.
They charged to the group, a war cry shared amongst them, becoming louder, more powerful as the three of them spurned each other on as they headed into the fray of men who were giving Dimitri, James, Andrei, and the dozen or so other lower-level dragons a run for their money.
Before Marxus could reach a single one of those attackers, before he could so much as smell the stink of their sweaty bodies beneath that ridiculous costume they all liked to wear, it was as if all of them straightened up at the same time, taking note of something Marxus couldn’t immediately see, and then fled.
Marxus ran up next to Andrei, Seth and Stefan also making it to the others but then slowing to a stop as they watched the men Varrick had sent after them vanish into the trees, as if they were running away from something.
“What the hell?” Andrei asked.
Marxus wanted to know the same thing, but then he realized something. The shadow cast along the roof of the house looked as though it had spikes, and those men in black all seemed to be looking up at the same thing before they fled.
Marxus turned, looking up at whatever it was that had scared off those men.
“Holy shit.”
“What?” Stefan also turned to look. “What is it?”
He, and everyone else, took note of what had caught Marxus’s attention when he’d turned, and then they understood.
Standing on the roof of the mansion were no less than two dozen men, some with their wings stretched out, all of whom stared down at the scene before them.
Dragons. The dragon clan Seth had noticed had been watching the house.
Marxus looked to Seth, but his alpha seemed transfixed.
Until he got control and stepped forward.
“Which one of you is leading this group?”
At least he was getting to the chase.
One of the dragons casually jumped off the roof, landing neatly on the deck, his body making some noise on impact as his feet touched the wood, but definitely not the bang it should have been.
A guy that size…he should have broken right through the floorboards when he’d landed.
“I am.”
His head was shaved, chest exposed, flesh marred with scarring. His eyes were black, and so were his scales. Scales that were different from the ones Marxus had.
These scales seemed to be rougher, each with individual hooks.
They looked dangerous and cool.
“All right,” Seth replied. “Thank you for helping us. Now what do you want?”
The leader of the group of dragons on the roof gently leaned to the side, getting a good look at Marxus and the others before turning his attention back to Seth.
* * * *
“What do you think’s happening outside?”
“I don’t know.” Zane clutched his brother’s hand tighter. He was still pale, but he was breathing stronger. That was a good thing.
A second omega spoke up. “Do you think they’re winning the fight?”
Zane shook his head. “Not sure, but they’d better be.”
More omegas had since found their way into the room where Zane was with his brother. Most were useless and scared, but the two that tended to Josh’s wound, keeping pressure on the cut until they could pull back and really check on him, making sure nothing inside had been sliced before stitching him up, were the omegas Zane loved and admired the most.
He was going to do everything in his power to make sure he paid back these two omegas with literally whatever they wanted. Even if Zane had to be their personal slave for the rest of his life, it didn’t matter. He would repay them for this.
Many of the omegas in here were wolf omegas. Their tails either flicked nervously or their ears twitched at the slightest noise that made them suspicious and paranoid.
Zane could at least use their hearing, and so when they weren’t putting themselves into a panic, Zane made sure they were using their ears, listening in for any sounds of an immediate threat.
Mainly, more warriors in black set to come in here and kill them or take them away.
At least Zane hadn’t heard any gunshots. That was always a good thing.
“I hear something.”
That got Zane’s attention fairly quick. He looked up at the omega who’d said it. “Something good or something bad?”
The man’s ears were stiff as could be. He seemed real intent on listening, on figuring out what those noises were, and then he seemed to relax. “I think we won.”
What came next was loud enough for even Zane to make out.
Andrei’s voice, calling out for his mate. “Jesse? Where are you?”
James’s voice came next. “Taylor! You can come out now!”
Other voices followed as the dragons searched out their mates. Zane got the feeling they would be fine. This had happened enough that injuries would be fewer than ever. He just wished his brother had been one of the ones to go unscathed.
The voice that Zane wanted to hear the most didn’t come, but when he heard the heavy, stomping footsteps rushing up the stairs and toward the door.
Zane put his hand on his gun just in case, and when the door burst open, reminding him how worthless the locks were in a place where dragons lived, he nearly pulled his weapon out of paranoid fear.
Thankfully, it was just Dimitri.
Dimitri. Oh shit.
“Josh.” Dimitri’s voice broke in a way Zane wouldn’t have expected from the other man. Zane stayed where he was, stunned when Dimitri rushed forward, falling to his knees, his hands touching Josh’s face with an unexpected tenderness.
Dimitri looked at Zane and then at the omegas who had their hands covered in Josh’s blood.
“Is he…all right?”
Josh clearly wasn’t all right.
“We think he’ll be fine, but he’s human.” The omega looked at Zane, as though apologizing for having to make that distinction. “He’ll need a doctor.”
“A doctor, right,” Dimitri said. “Okay, uh, was it a gunshot?”
“No,” Zane said, knowing why he was asking. “A stab wound. We can get him to the hospital and the police won’t need to be called. I can drive us there.”
Dimitri shook his head. “No, I can carry him. I can fly there and get him seen to faster.”
When Dimitri moved, pulling Josh into his arms and standing before Zane even knew if his brother’s stitches were strong enough to be moved like that, he nearly flipped out at the man.
A heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him before it could get to that. He turned back and saw Marxus, giving him a patient stare.
Zane hadn't noticed the other man had come into the room.
“Take him,” Marxus said. “Zane and I will be there, soon.”
Zane didn’t want to meet Dimitri there. He wanted to go now. He wanted to go with Josh and keep his brother within sight at all times.
He couldn’t get the words out that he wanted, and it was the most helpless feeling in the world when he was forced to watch as Dimitri rushed out of the room, holding Zane’s unconscious brother in his arms.
Zane almost couldn’t breathe.
“Look at me, look at me.” Marxus rubbed his hands up and down Zane’s arms, but Zane barely felt it.
He couldn’t breathe.
“Fuck, okay, come with me.”
Zane did as Marxus commanded him to, following the other man quickly as he wheezed for breath.
He wanted to breathe. He couldn’t breathe.
“M-Marxus,” he huffed.
“I know. I got you.”
Marxus quickly took them back to Marxus’s room. Zane had only ever been in here before when Marxus had been forced to watch over Zane, back when he’d thought Zane was a worthless little shithead.
He yanked Zane into the bathroom, closed the door, and,
strangely enough, went and turned on the hot water tap in the huge tub, blasting the water there, and in the sink, until steam began to rise.
Then Zane knew what was happening.
“Okay, come breathe over here. I don’t think you’re having a full-on panic attack yet. Just sit right here on the edge of the tub. That’s it.”
Marxus left him again, grabbing a glass off the countertop and filling it with some of the hot water.
“I hear hot drinks can help.”
Zane nodded, taking the drink and nearly burning his taste buds off when he downed it too fast.
But it did help to open his airways.
He inhaled deeply for several minutes, testing his lungs and his throat. All seemed to be working fine.
He nodded to Marxus, who turned off the hot water tap.
“Thank you,” Zane said, holding the glass.
“Is that normal for you?”
Zane shook his head, smiling a little over it. “I haven’t had an asthma attack since before I was ten.”
“You have asthma?”
“Used to,” Zane clarified. “I think…with Josh leaving the room, and everything that happened…it’s one thing to see blood, but it’s another thing entirely to see his blood. You know?”
Marxus sighed, sitting across from Zane on the edge of the tub. “I guess that makes sense.” He pressed his lips together. “When Al was killed, that wasn’t like anything else I’d ever before experienced in my entire life. It’s different when it’s someone you care about.”
Zane nodded. “Yeah. Thank you again.”
He felt as if he had to say it.
Marxus touched his cheek, an actual, gentle gesture. “You’re welcome. I’m just going to make sure you’re all right for a few more minutes, and then I’m going to take you to see your brother. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
Zane nodded. Josh was a fighter. He had to remind himself of that over and over again.
“What happened downstairs? Is everything all right?”
“Maybe. Seth is talking with the new guys now.”
Zane blinked at that. “The new guys?”
Marxus smiled. “Yeah. I think we might be getting a little addition to our clan.”
Their eyes met, and that smile became a little more unsure. “If you want to be part of that with me, I’m more than open for it.”
Zane didn’t understand. “I…I told you I was in love with you. I meant it.”
Marxus had every reason to not believe him, he supposed. It actually hurt his heart something fierce to know that. To know that Marxus might not have believed him.
“I know,” Marxus replied. “But I don’t want to hold you to anything you might not have meant in the heat of the moment either.”
Zane’s heart swelled. Exploded. He leaned forward, pressing his mouth to Marxus’s, needing to kiss the man, needing to feel the warmth of his lips and the scratch of rough hair at his jaw line.
He needed to just feel something good.
Marxus closed his eyes, a soft sighing noise escaping his lips. Even when they pulled back from each other, his eyes were a little glazed over.
“I guess that means I have nothing to worry about.”
Zane shook his head. He had to be honest about this part. “You might still have something to worry about.”
Marxus cocked his head to the side very slightly. It was barely noticeable. “How do you mean?”
Zane nearly felt his half-asthma, half-panic attack returning to him, and he couldn’t take it. He needed to let it all out.
“I fucking hate this. I…I think I’m like my parents sometimes. I think I have the potential to be like them.”
“Okay,” Marxus said. “Like them how? Did they ever hurt you?”
“They hurt each other. That was enough.” Zane needed to explain this right. “I wanted to hit you when we were in the bathroom. I had to leave because I could almost see myself doing it. I could picture it. I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to be either of my parents. They fucking attacked each other constantly. I couldn’t take it if I were to do that to you, and don’t say you could handle it because I can see that’s coming!”
Marxus shook his head, took Zane by his hands, and brought Zane’s knuckles to his mouth.
The heat that rushed through Zane’s body was intense. No one had ever kissed him like that before. No one ever made his blood heat like this.
“I wasn’t going to say that,” Marxus replied. “I was going to say that, even if you feel you have those urges because of the fucked-up way your parents acted around you, that I would trust you to do what you did downstairs.”
“Run away?”
“Control yourself,” Marxus said softly. He reached out and touched Zane’s cheek. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. I wish you could see what I see when I look at you. A stubborn, pretty little shithead, and I know you have that kind of strength in you. You’re too good to let yourself be taken over by thoughts like that.”
Zane’s eyes burned. Oh shit, they actually burned, and he didn’t know what to do about the closing of his throat.
He swallowed hard over the rock forming there. It was painful, but this was, by far, the best damned feeling he’d ever had in his life, too.
He couldn’t look Marxus in the eyes for this next part he had to say. “Do you…do you promise that you’ll help me? That you won’t walk away from me if I can’t pull myself together?”
Marxus’s hand went to Zane’s chin, forcing him to look up, their eyes locking one more time.
“Baby, you’re never getting rid of me.”
THE END
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