by Hawke Oakley
“I don’t get drunk,” Scar snapped.
Pete gestured aggressively to the ceiling. “Then why’re you always stumbling around? You and that loud leg of yours.”
I felt Scar bristle in my grip, like a wolf raising its hackles. I placed my hand against his back and hoped it would soothe him. Instantly, he tensed, but didn’t say anything. He seemed to freeze.
“I’m a friend of Scar’s. He got a bit hurt, so I’m taking him back to his place,” I explained with another smile—this one a little more forced.
Pete took in this information, then waved us off with a grunt. “Just don’t make a lot of noise. Trying to watch TV down here…”
He slammed the door. Scar and I managed to keep it together until we reached the third floor before he muttered, “He’s such a dumb old coot!”
“Seriously, what is his problem?” I asked. “He seemed like he hated you for no reason. And you weren’t even swearing at him this time.”
“I don’t know,” Scar mumbled. “Everyone hates me, I guess.”
I paused. “What? That’s ridiculous, nobody hates you.”
He ignored me and pulled out his keys. As I felt the muscles moving beneath his skin, I realized my hand was still pressed to his shoulders. I slipped it away.
He’s warm.
The door creaked open. At first I thought the inside of Scar’s apartment was tidier than I expected, then I felt guilty for thinking such a thing. It had a similar amount of mess to my own, such as a jacket hanging over the back of the couch and a half-eaten bowl of candy on the coffee table. It lacked the musty smell from the lobby, instead smelling like beeswax candles and—well, like him.
“Guess we’re here,” Scar said without looking at me. “Thanks for bringing me all the way here.”
“Not a problem.”
I stood at the door’s precipice with a decision to make. Did I go inside, or leave?
Judging by the strange, guarded expression on Scar’s face, he didn’t know which decision he wanted me to make, either.
My body moved on its own before I could choose. I stepped inside. Scar paused. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Like he was daring me to come any closer.
I wanted to meet his challenge.
“What are you still doing here?” Scar finally asked, his voice scratchy. He was on the verge of something. My blood felt electric. A strange energy took over me, almost like a magnet was pulling us together—and yet at the same time, he was trying to push me away.
“Your ankle,” I reminded him. Before he could protest I strode up to him and leaned down to examine the injury. Scar froze again, the same way he did earlier when I touched his back to calm him down—like a wild animal caught between fight or flight.
“May I?” I asked him, my fingers hovering inches from his skin. His jaw tensed, but he nodded.
He sat down and extended his leg. I gently braced his calf in my hand, then used the other to examine his ankle. It was slightly swollen, but not twisted out of shape.
Carefully, I pressed my fingertip to where the skin looked bruised. “Does it hurt to the touch?”
“A little. It’s not so bad,” he mumbled.
Satisfied, I stood back up. “Good. I was worried you’d twisted it during the encounter with that man.”
I spat the words, not wanting to speak his name. The rage within me had died down, but remembering how Mav treated Scar made me angry all over again. My hands balled into fists before I quickly forced myself to relax.
Scar glanced away, as if remembering the incident upset him. I felt a stab of guilt for bringing up something that maybe he just wanted to forget.
Finally, Scar muttered the words I’d been expecting all night. “You didn’t have to save me from him.”
I straightened my shoulders. “Yes, I did. I wasn’t going to allow some thug to hurt you.” I grasped his arm, which made him pause. “And before you tell me off, it’s not because of your disability. I would have done the same thing for any single one of my friends.”
His eyes met mine, shining fiercely. He didn’t try to remove his arm from my grasp and he didn’t look away. For a moment, we were two blades clashed against each other.
Then, another shock of guilt. I quickly withdrew my hand, letting go of Scar. I didn’t want to intimidate him. I wanted him to trust me.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He ignored me. “I’m gonna ask you a stupid question.”
“What?”
Scar inhaled and held his breath. “Do you feel something?”
I know exactly what you mean. “I don’t know what you mean.”
His face fell. Fear and confusion gutted me. Why did I lie? What was I doing? Scar was my friend, and like any other friend I wanted him to like me. Lying to his face was the opposite of everything I stood for.
But that wasn’t it. Something, some tiny nagging sensation clawed at my gut like a worm. I understood what Scar meant. He was seeking my reciprocation, but instead of giving it to him, I backed out.
What am I afraid of?
I took too long to figure it out. Scar waved it off. “Nevermind. It’s probably the musty lobby fumes getting to my head.”
“Maybe,” I said.
A stuffy silence engulfed the room. Scar stared at the floor. Words bubbled up in my throat but refused to come out. The quiet was deafening. I needed to say something.
“What did you mean earlier,” I began slowly, “when you said that everyone hates you?”
He scowled. “It’s true. Besides you, everyone else in the tribe—hell, everyone in the world seems to despise me.”
“What?” I sat down next to him on the couch. “Nobody thinks that!”
His piercing eyes glared at me. “Don’t lie. You’ve seen the way people on the street stare at me—like I’m contagious, or evil, just because I don’t look like them. Remember the pretzel guy?”
“He was just a jerk. Besides, what about Dante and Lorenzo?”
“They’re not my friends, they’re your friends.”
“But they come to your bar!” I exclaimed.
“Exactly. They’re customers. Those aren’t friends.”
I wracked my brain. “What about Gabriel? You were from the same pack, right?”
Scar shook his head. “We didn’t know each other. And it’s not like he hangs out with me. Just because he spoke to me once when he needed information doesn’t make us close buddies.”
I was quickly running out of ideas, and that made me feel incredibly guilty. Did I not know Scar as well as I thought? Or did he truly have nobody in his life?
Without thinking, I put my hand on his knee and said, “I know people don’t hate you. And besides that, there has to be someone you care for—you know, in a deeper way.”
He furrowed his brow, suddenly looking anxious and irritated. “What?”
“You know, like... a mate.”
His eyes widened and his expression turned unreadable. Suddenly realizing what I was doing, I pulled my hand back.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He ignored me and glanced away, a frown tugging at his mouth. “No, I don’t have a mate. I don’t need one.”
He doesn’t need one? The thought filled me with intrigue but also, strangely, disappointment.
“And it’s not like any alpha wants a piece of this action, anyway,” Scar continued with a scowl. “Can you blame them? Who wants an omega who looks like this?” He gestured to himself.
“Don’t speak of yourself like that,” I ordered.
“Why not? It’s the truth.”
I stood up. “No, it’s not. Your appearance doesn’t matter. An alpha would love you for who you are.”
“So you’re agreeing with me,” Scar muttered. “That I’m ugly.”
“I didn’t say that!” I growled. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
Suddenly his expression turned nasty. He struggled to stand on shaky legs and pointed a finger at me.
“Lo
ok, don’t you have somewhere else to be? Why are you still here?” he snapped.
He was right. Why was I still there? Why didn’t I want to leave? Confusion churned my stomach. A strong part of me wanted to stay here. It was a pull I didn’t recognize, and that confused me even more.
“I’m trying to help you!” I said.
He slumped back down. “Well, your help isn’t needed. I’m fine on my own.”
“Are you?” I asked before I could stop myself. “You’re going to sit here all alone while you’re injured?”
“I’m not hurt that bad. I’ve been through worse.” He lifted his prosthetic hand.
“Sure,” I conceded gently. “But why be alone if you don’t have to be?”
“Maybe I like being alone,” he snapped.
“Do you?”
He paused. A flurry of unreadable emotions crossed his face before finally settling into anger. He shot up from the couch, growling, “Just get out of here! I don’t need your help, and I don’t need your company!”
I stood there with my jaw dropped. When I didn’t reply, he snapped, “What are you waiting for? Go away!”
At a loss for words, I didn’t know what to do. I was disappointed and confused. I didn’t know why he was pushing me away. But I didn’t want to stand around and get yelled at again. I turned around and left Scar’s apartment without another word.
The door slammed behind me.
7
Scar
Anger raged through my blood. My body trembled bonelessly against the couch. There was so much anger inside of me, but the worst part was, I’d directed it at the wrong person. I got mad at Ryu when I was truly mad at myself.
My fists balled weakly. I was so frustrated that hot tears welled in the corners of my eyes. What the hell was wrong with me? There was no need to yell at Ryu like that, especially when he was only trying to help.
But his prying questions hit too close to home. I couldn’t deal with that. I panicked.
Personal questions made me feel sick. My business was my own, and nobody else’s. What did Ryu care if I had a mate or not? It wasn’t his problem, but he was trying to make it his problem. He was better off spending his time elsewhere, where he wasn’t wasting it.
I slumped further into the couch, hopeless and tired. Speaking to him made me realize just how alone I truly was—no friends, no family. Just a bar room full of strangers with money. And I’d just screamed at the only person who was willing to spend time with me.
Nice going, idiot. Maybe now you can go yell at Karen downstairs so she can hate you, too.
As the hot fury wore off, sadness took its place. The frustrated tears began rolling down my cheeks and annoying me even further. I wiped them aggressively.
I didn’t want to sit there crying alone in the dark. I needed to get up and do something.
Getting to my feet was a struggle, especially since I’d been hurt earlier. My throat tightened remembering how Ryu set me down and examined me with his fingers on my skin. Nobody had gotten that close me in a long time.
And he wasn’t afraid of touching me. Not like everyone else.
Ignoring the pain in my ankle, I stood up and forced myself to the door. The pain felt like a deserved retribution—my punishment for screaming at Ryu when he hadn’t done anything wrong.
He deserved an apology. But after the way I handled that conversation, would he really want one? It was like trying to pet a dog and getting bit on the hand. He probably never wanted to speak to me again. I couldn’t blame him.
I checked the time. The night was still early, at least for drinking standards. Maybe if I made it back to the bar soon I could at least squeeze a few customers in before closing. Being at the bar would get my mind off the terrible date I just had.
I froze and rewound my thoughts. It wasn’t a date. I don’t know why I thought that. Slip of the tongue.
* * *
There was no big line-up or commotion by the bar’s front doors, so I assumed everyone saw the sign and left disappointed. All I had to do was quickly take it down and turn on the OPEN sign, and hopefully I could salvage some money out of this horrible evening.
But something wasn’t right.
I paused, frowning. My instincts were telling me something was wrong—out of place. Then, under the shadow of the bar’s awning, I saw it. A strange shape.
“What the…”
I approached cautiously, unsure of what to make of the object. But the closer I got, the more my heart raced with both fear and curiosity.
It was a baby carrier.
I just hoped there wasn’t a baby in it.
I approached it like it was a bomb waiting to go off. I prayed somebody had just dumped their unused item and left. Maybe they didn’t know this was a bar—maybe they thought it was a donation center.
All those thoughts raced hopefully in my head until I saw the golden-haired sleeping infant nestled inside the carrier.
My breath caught in my throat.
The world seemed to stop. In front of me was a young child, just a baby—all alone.
Abandoned in front of a damn bar.
Panicked, I glanced around, desperate to see any kind of living form. Maybe whoever dropped this baby here was still in the area. But I didn’t see anyone. The streets were dark, and the only illumination was the dim safety lights inside the bar.
Quickly I realized that whoever had left the carrier on the front step must have left a scent trail. It would be easier to track in my wolf form, but the thought of it made me grimace. I didn’t use my wolf form very often—it just reminded me of the day I was captured by human raiders. But this was more important than my own feelings. I needed to help this child.
With a shudder, I shifted into my wolf form. Every scent surrounding me became intensified. The world transformed into a symphony of smells. Carefully, I brought my snout to the baby’s carrier and sniffed. I smelled the baby, all right, but there was only a light scent of someone else. Almost too light to notice. I couldn’t ascertain any important information from it, like I would have been able to do if the person’s scent was stronger.
When I tried to track it, the scent led only a couple feet away from the carrier before completely disappearing. As if the person had vanished.
A sinking, unsettling sensation fell over me like ice water. Someone had left this baby here on purpose.
In a single moment, my whole world turned upside down.
There was no chance in hell I could leave this baby here alone. Just thinking about it—and the fact that someone did abandon this child—infuriated me to my core. But besides the burning anger, I felt something else—overwhelming warmth and the desire to protect this baby no matter what.
Shifting back to human form, I reached carefully down and picked up the carrier. I took one last look around to see if anyone would come claim the baby at the last second, but I had no such luck. I was on my own.
The staggering weight of sudden responsibility almost made me physically buckle. I had this abandoned baby now—that was really happening in my life.
Doubts instantly manifested in my mind. A baby—especially one this young—was an enormous duty. I had no experience with kids. I didn’t know how to feed one, change one, clothe one… I hadn’t even learned those topics in advance because I never thought I would ever have a child.
There was no way I could do this alone.
Feeling hopeless and alone, I stood under the awning and stared down at the baby. Thankfully, it seemed to have no idea about the ordeal it was in, and it remained fast asleep.
Suddenly I noticed a name embroidered in pink lettering. “Angel”.
Her name is Angel…
A felt a pang of sadness. Whoever did this had given her a beautiful name before simply dropping her off in front of a stranger’s bar. Was it her parents that did this? Did they even care? Or did something else happen? Maybe she was kidnapped, or something happened to her parents…
My mind raced wit
h possibilities, but none of them were going to help me take care of Angel. All I could do for the time being was watch over here, and hope that her parents were out there somewhere looking for her.
But I didn’t know who to turn to for help. Maybe Gabriel? We barely spoke, but he was a father with two young children, as well as a fellow ex-member of Stoneheart pack. But what the hell was I supposed to say to him? Hey, I found this baby, help me out.
There was one person I could trust. A person who I knew for a fact would help me out no matter what, and especially on a matter as important as this.
But he was also the same person who I’d just screamed at an hour earlier.
I sighed, feeling frustrated with myself again. Ryu didn’t deserve that. I just hoped I could find him fast. He would know what to do.
There was just one problem—I didn’t know where Ryu lived.
Maybe if I hadn’t been such an ass to him earlier I wouldn’t be having this problem…
I retraced my steps close enough to my apartment to get a lead on his scent. Holding the baby carrier’s handle in my mouth while walking was challenging, but I didn’t have any other choice. At least in this four-legged shape it was easier to balance my two missing limbs, since they were on reverse sides of my body.
There.
Ryu’s scent trail lead through the streets, winding away from my apartment. I followed the path urgently. I hoped Angel remained asleep until I found Ryu, at least. Despite my desire to protect her, the fact was I lacked the ability to care for a child on my own—the thought of her waking up now and crying because she needed something from me was frightening.
The scent intensified. Ryu must be close. My muscles burned as I ran as fast as I could, fuelled by desperation.
Finally his form appeared over the crest of the sidewalk. He walked alone, shoulders sagging and head down, a lone figure underneath the street lamp.
My heart twisted with guilt. Even from his body language I knew he was upset—and I’d caused it.
When I caught up to him and poked his leg with my nose, he yelped.
“What?” He paused, taking in the baby carrier and my form. His expression screwed up in confusion. “Wait… Scar? Is that you?”
