Savage Awakening ap-2

by J. D. Tyler

  “Hold up,” Jax whispered, coming to a halt. Tensing, he studied the mountain forest around them, frowning. Somewhere hidden in the greenery, a footstep crunched to their left. Another to their right. And one from behind.

  A chill slithered down Aric’s spine as they exchanged glances, readied their weapons. They couldn’t have reached their target’s stronghold already, and this area was supposed to be clear.

  Tell that to the bastards who had them surrounded.

  Then the forest went silent. Those few heartbeats that followed the utter stillness, those seconds before their lives changed forever, as he locked gazes with Raven, and then Micah, would forever be crystallized in his memory.

  Thud, thud, thud.

  The ground trembled and the leaves shook. When a deep-throated roar split the air, Aric jumped, pointing the muzzle of his M-16 into the trees, hands steady, heart racing, a bead of sweat dripping off his nose.

  “Fuck,” Micah whispered. “What the fuck is that?”

  It was a horror right out of Jurassic Park, the scene he’d never forget as long as he lived. The thing that broke through the foliage to their left stood erect on two legs and was more than seven feet tall. Covered with a thick mat of grayish brown fur, it had a long torso, two arms, muscular shoulders, and a head sporting two upright ears and a long, snarling muzzle full of sharp teeth.

  It looked like a creature that was half man, half wolf. He stared, mouth open, finger frozen on the trigger.

  How things might have been salvaged, disaster averted, they’d never know. Because their buddy Jones started screaming, pumping bullets into the beast’s chest. After that, everything went to hell fast.

  The creature staggered backward and then rallied quickly, rushing Jones. With a swipe of a paw the size of a dinner plate, the big bastard ripped out Jones’s throat, tossing him aside like a twig. Then it pounced on Raven, biting into the vee of his neck and shoulder as the man screamed.

  They opened fire just as several more of the beasts emerged from the forest. It quickly became apparent that while their bullets could wound, it would take something with far more power to kill them. Aric dropped into a crouch and desperately palmed a grenade as his friends fell all around him, waging a battle they couldn’t win. The one who’d killed Jones shook Raven like a rag doll, released him, and ran toward Aric.

  He let the grenade fly. It hit at the target’s feet and exploded, sending the damned thing to hell. But it wasn’t enough.

  Micah went down, his knife in hand, slitting one’s throat. But another jumped on him, and his struggle was short-lived, his screams echoing in Aric’s ears. Jax fell next, then their CO, Prescott, Ryon, Zan, Nix, and so many others. All of them, one by one. Dead or dying.

  Unsheathing his own knife, Aric spun to face the beast coming up on his flank. “Come on, bitch,” he hissed. “Let’s dance.”

  Today he would die. But he’d take this one with him.

  Surprising the creature, he rushed in and leapt, burying the blade to the handle in its gullet. As it fell, he whirled, heart pounding with fear. Automatically, he thrust out a hand, employing one of the weapons in his personal arsenal that he had sworn never to risk using unless the situation became dire. No reason to keep it a secret now.

  Pouring all his consciousness, every ounce of his energy into his gift, he unleashed his fire. A column of flame shot out from his palm and engulfed the wolf-man. Screeching, the beast dropped to the ground, writhing as it burned.

  “Take that, cocksucker!”

  Filled with renewed hope, he torched three more wolves. He could do this, and save at least some of his teammates. All wasn’t lost.

  Until his fire was depleted. Suddenly the flames died and one of the remaining beasts advanced, wearing a sinister expression that could have passed for a grin. He faced it head-on, without flinching, allowing his anger to override the fear that would mean certain death. And if there was any prayer of survival, he’d take it. Moving slowly, he palmed another grenade.

  “Come on, you ugly fucker. Come to papa.”

  Whether it understood, he couldn’t have said. But it ran at him, and he braced himself. The beast took him to the ground and his back hit hard as he pulled the grenade’s pin. Not a second to lose.

  The wolf brought its nose to his, mouth open, breath fetid, fangs dripping with bloody saliva. Seizing his opening, Aric rammed his fist down the beast’s throat, pushing his arm as far as it would go. Immediately, the thing gagged and jerked back reflexively, clawing at his shoulder and arm to dislodge him. Pain burned his biceps and forearm as he was shoved backward, but he ignored it, scrambling as far from the beast as he could.

  The grenade detonated, spraying fur, blood, and entrails everywhere. Aric lay there, ears ringing, for several long moments before he realized that all sounds had ceased. He raised his head, saw the prone figures of his team, flung everywhere. Some gasping and moaning for help, others mangled beyond recognition. He tried to crawl toward the pleas, struggled so hard to make it to even one of his fallen brothers.

  But he was too fucking weak. His arm burned like it had been dipped in acid, and he peered at it to see several long, deep gashes that had been carved by the wolf-man’s teeth. He was losing blood at an alarming rate, becoming light-headed.

  Rest. Just for a minute. Then he’d try again.

  The next thing he knew, a hand was shaking his shoulder. “Aric? Oh, God! Please don’t be dead. Please!”

  Cracking his eyes open was hard, but he managed. Zan was crouched over him, gripping Aric’s arm—the arm that should’ve had several deep slices. And now it didn’t. The skin was still bloodied, but smooth, as though nothing had happened.

  “What the hell?” he rasped.

  “Easy,” Zan said. His face was pale as milk, the meat of his shoulder torn open from a nasty bite. “You’re not the only one with a trick up his sleeve, my friend. I’m a Healer.”

  Before today, despite his own gift, Aric might’ve laughed. Now he just sent his friend a weak smile. “Thank fuck. So heal yourself while you’re at it.”

  “Doesn’t work that way. Stop talking and rest, okay?”

  His brain was growing foggy, his body heavy. He had no choice but to obey. Maybe he would die after all, lost in this little slice of hell, along with his friends.

  He might have wished for death back then, had he known that he would carry a piece of that devil’s spawn for the rest of his life.

  Aric finished his story and reached out, gently wiping Rowan’s tears from her pretty face. “I’m so sorry. I did what I could for your brother and the rest, but it wasn’t enough. It never will be.”

  “No, don’t say that,” she protested. “You fought hard, all of you did. And you killed the last one, giving the survivors the chance to be rescued and begin a new life.”

  “Such as it is.” He winced at the bitterness in his tone.

  “Is it really so bad?” she questioned softly. “This career, this life you’ve built here with your friends?”

  He studied her earnest expression, drowned in those brown eyes. She was so close, so beautiful. She smelled so freaking good he wanted to leap from the bed and take her like the beast he was.

  More than that, he wanted to know Rowan—on the inside as well as out.

  A small smile curved his lips and he answered seriously. “No, I guess it isn’t. Especially now.”

  Slowly, she returned his smile.

  They spent the afternoon talking about nothing, really. But despite the circumstances of their meeting, Aric couldn’t remember when he’d enjoyed a day more. When she finally left, he could think of only one thing.

  When he’d get to see her again.

  Eight

  Aric flat out refused to spend one more second in that damned uncomfortable infirmary bed. They were torture devices specially designed to make the patient want to get well fast, just so he could get the hell off that stupid mattress that must’ve been designed for a ten-year-old. His fucking
heels hung off the end, unless he hitched his knees to the side.

  Instead, he sat in a visitor’s chair near the window and gazed out longingly at the forest, itching to go for a good run. He would, too, as soon as Melina got her skinny butt in here and let him out of the loony bin. Two days he’d been here since the doc had made him come back. Now he knew how animals in the zoo must feel, and his wolf growled in agreement.

  The door opened and Melina stepped inside.

  He jumped to his feet, grinning. “Just the lady I wanted to see. Let me out!”

  She didn’t return his enthusiasm, but met his eyes calmly, shoving her hands in the pockets of her lab coat. “Aric, sit down. We need to talk.”

  “Talk while you sign my release papers.”

  “I’m being serious.”

  “Uh-oh.” His smile wilted. “What’s up?”

  “Your temperature, again. By two tenths of a degree.”

  “That’s all? Jesus, doc, you scared me.” He plucked at the ugly gown. “Now can I get out of this thing? It’s a little breezy and—”

  “Aric. Sit down.”

  Her steely tone could wither the balls right off the toughest of men. Himself included. Swallowing hard, he planted his ass in the vinyl chair again and waited for her to get to the point.

  She wasted no time, removing a flat wooden stick from a jar on the counter and moving her rolling stool so that she was situated between his knees. “Open wide.”

  He did, trying not to gag as she depressed his tongue and shone a light into his mouth. After a few seconds, she removed the stick and tossed it in the trash. For a minute she regarded him in silence. He fought the urge to squirm like a schoolboy in the principal’s office.

  “Your throat is a little red, though it wasn’t yesterday. Is it sore?” she finally asked.

  He blinked at her. “I don’t know. I hadn’t really noticed.”

  “Swallow.”

  He did, trying not to wince.

  “Does that hurt?”

  “No.”

  “Aric.”

  “Okay, some.”

  She sighed. “I’m going to run a culture, but I doubt anything will show up, since shifters don’t contract human diseases.”

  “Then why bother?” He just wanted out.

  “Because it could be something we haven’t seen before in your kind. Or it could be an indicator of an altogether different issue.”

  His brow furrowed. “Such as?”

  “It could just be that your body is out of whack from the abuse you endured at Chappell’s site.”

  “But you don’t think so.” This really was starting to worry him. “Come on, Melina. It’s not like you to beat around the bush.”

  “No, it isn’t. Bear with me another minute.” She paused, leaning forward. “Your temperature was normal when you were first rescued. We were worried about your body’s condition, but it was fairly good, all things considered. This didn’t start until you got home. Specifically, when you met Rowan.”

  He stared at the doc, his pulse leaping. “What does she have to do with me?”

  “Do you feel a pull toward her? Does your wolf?”

  Ah, shit.

  He affected a smirk. “Are you kidding? The woman’s totally hot. And babes in uniform? Damn, there is a God.”

  “You know what I mean. Do you? What if I were to inform you—and your wolf—that I’d seen her and Zan involved in a deep, passionate kiss, right before they disappeared into the forest?”

  “What!” He was on his feet, hands shifting to claws, fur sprouting before he realized it. His voice emerged in a snarl. “Where is that motherfucker? I’ll tear his asshole out through his throat and feast on his carcass!”

  He spun, but before he could dash out the door, a firm hand grabbed his biceps. “I didn’t say that’s what happened. I asked you what if? And I believe you answered my question.”

  As he turned to stare at her, it slowly dawned on him that he’d been baited. The wolf inside him hadn’t been able to tolerate the idea of another man touching what belonged to him—

  “Oh, fuck me.” The fur and claws retracted and he walked to his chair, sat down hard. Slumping, he braced his elbows on his knees and hung his head, staring at his bare feet. “Is this what happened to Jax when he met Kira?”

  “I can’t discuss that because of confidentiality, but I can tell you that your symptoms are consistent with what we understand so far about the changes a male wolf shifter experiences when he finds his mate.”

  “But she and I just met! Don’t get me wrong, I really like her—but I don’t want a mate!” Even as he said this, however, a miserable ache formed in his gut. His wolf paced inside, anxious. Unsettled.

  “I have a feeling your wolf doesn’t care what his human half wants,” she said. Her tone was kinder than normal, which said a lot about the seriousness of his situation. “Am I right?”

  “Yeah. He’s about to shred me from the inside out.” Leaning back in his chair, he stared at the ceiling. “I can’t fucking believe this. Any of the other guys would make a better mate for Rowan than I would.”

  His stomach lurched and he fought not to be sick at the thought of her with someone else. And not to tear the furniture apart.

  “Why’s that?”

  His laugh was bitter, but he couldn’t help it. “I’m not settling-down material, my friend. My family was so freakin’ dysfunctional, we made the cast of Married with Children look like the damned Cleavers. I know absolute shit about how to make another person happy, or what a family is supposed to be like.”

  “I don’t agree. The men you work with, they’re your family,” she pointed out. “You’re close as brothers, and blood doesn’t matter when it comes to the people who really have your back.”

  That threw him, and he pondered it for a long moment. “Okay, that’s true,” he said slowly, looking at the doc. “But they’re guys. I don’t have to worry about being bound to one of them for the rest of our lives.”

  “Actually, we have no proof that one of you couldn’t have another man for a mate.”

  He cleared his throat. “Well, to each his own. I’ve got nothing against folks finding happiness with their same sex and all, but I happen to know that’s definitely not my case.”

  The barest hint of humor softened her face. “Anyway, the point is that you have a family right here, one that obviously means a lot to you, though you do your best to hide your feelings behind a wall of sarcasm. It’s not as if you can’t learn to be a good, loving mate to your female.”

  He wasn’t so sure about that, but figured it best not to get into that debate. “What happened to Jax… will it be the same for me?” His friend had gotten really sick before the couple decided to bond. Aric hated being ill, but he just didn’t see how mating would ever work out for the likes of him. What woman needed his shit?

  “You’re already symptomatic, with the sore throat and fever, which seems to accompany the start of the mating urge. The longer you put off biting your female, taking her as your Bondmate, the sicker you’ll become. Of course, if you do bite her, then there’s a possibility she’ll turn into a shifter as well.”

  “Isn’t there a chance I could just wait it out? Get well?”

  “Based on what I’ve seen so far, and what Nick has told me as a born shifter who’s lived with his wolf a lot longer than all of you have…” She sighed. “It doesn’t seem likely.”

  Deadly calm settled over him. There was no point in stressing about the future when he’d just learned he didn’t have one. “Listen to me and listen good,” he said in a low voice. “Rowan is not to know what’s going on with me. I won’t have her pushed into mating with me like Kira was with Jax. You understand? Rowan is a good woman and she doesn’t deserve to be saddled with this life, or me.”

  “Aric, it’s not such a bad existence—”

  “No. You tell Rowan, or anyone else, about this and I’ll leave. For good.”

  “Nick will know, even
tually. No one will have to inform him.”

  “He’s different. But the same rule applies to him.”

  “Try telling that to Nick,” she said drily. “He’s not bound by the same oath of confidentiality as I am.”

  “I’ll deal with that when and if he confronts me.”

  Melina fell silent for a moment, studying him, suddenly looking older than her years. “I honestly hope you reconsider before it’s too late.” He didn’t answer. “Okay, I’m going to get that culture, and when it comes back clear, I’ll release you.”

  “Thanks.”

  She left to get the kit she needed, and he sat there staring out the window once again. Only he wasn’t nearly as excited as before about the prospect of getting out. He was simply trading one prison for another, this time being held hostage by his own body. With a sigh, he slumped in his chair and covered his face with one hand.

  I’m going to die. After the hell in Afghanistan. After all those weeks of torture, praying for rescue, and death finds me, anyway—in the form of my mate. Ain’t fate a bitch?

  Melina returned. “Let’s get this done so you can get going.”

  In less than a minute, she’d swabbed inside his throat with the end of a long stick and taken it away. In fifteen more she was back, announcing that as expected, he had no viruses or bacteria to account for the sore throat and fever. His blood work was fine, too. He was healed from his time in captivity.

  “One last thing,” she said, leveling him with a firm look. “When you find yourself unable to perform on the team, remove yourself from duty or I will have to go to Nick.”

  “How long do I have before I get to that point?”

  “I wish I had a firm answer,” she said grimly. “The pace of decline seems to vary. But it will happen, unless you talk to Rowan. Explain to her.”

  “I can’t.” God. Losing his team and his place among them would truly be the end of him. When that happened, he would shift and disappear into the Shoshone, let nature take its course.

  Melina signed his paperwork, no doubt believing that when push came to shove, he’d change his mind and bite Rowan, risk turning her into a wolf, to save his own hide. The doc was wrong. He wasn’t that big an asshole, no matter what people might think.