Scratch marks on the curve of his ass provided the source for the blood. I sucked in a breath, unable to imagine itching awful enough to make a man scratch with clawed hands.
Or had he known? Hmm… it was hard to say. His wolf must have been near the surface, no doubt doing his part in the fight to keep him alive. Another keening cry sounded, this one softer yet so laced with pain it hit me harder than the one I'd heard outside the door.
My stomach clenched. I knew what I needed to do, but I really didn't want to claim my fated mate like this. And yet, fuck watching him die. If I hadn’t been willing to let a perfect stranger pass away, then I damn sure wouldn't, knowing who he was to me.
But still. Would reaching him in this condition be possible? I had to try. Even though every second of delay pushed him closer to the grave, I needed to know I’d at least tried to make him aware. Given him a chance to consent.
Carefully, I sat at the edge of the bed and leaned over him, finally pulling the hair back from his face. My breath caught at his beauty. Omegas were so rare I’d seen no more than one or two in my entire life. They were known to be pretty and delicate creatures, but Elisha was almost too lovely for description. His dark eyebrows were the same chestnut as his long, thick hair. His features were finely sculpted with high cheekbones and a narrow nose, and his rough, cracked lips were bow-shaped and full. Or would have been, if he were properly hydrated.
My wolf took only a second to imprint on our mate and memorize his features. Ignoring my wolf's howl echoing through my head, I studied the thick lashes curling up from Elisha's closed eyelids. At this moment, I couldn’t think of anything I wanted more than seeing those eyes open. What color would they be? Would they sparkle with intelligence and humor or be dulled from all the pain and horror his body had experienced?
Stupid question, genius. Dull with pain at the moment. So how about we get him out of said pain, so they have a chance to sparkle with humor at some future point?
Gently brushing the back of my knuckles along his exposed cheek, I fought to keep my voice level and hide the anguish that would tell him exactly how bad of shape he was in. I had no idea if he was alert enough to read subtleties of tone, if even on a subconscious level, but didn’t want to risk it.
"Elisha? I’m your new alpha. My name is Matthias. Can you wake up, honey?"
When his sole answer was a whimper, I leaned closer. His chest and abdomen rolled with each short breath as if his body struggled to get enough air. I startled back when he snarled and claws erupted from his fingertips. He thrashed, moving to scratch a patch of red bumps on his stomach where a clump of feathers were stuck to his sweaty flesh.
"No. Stop, now." I couldn't help the dominant alpha warning and accompanying growl. Protecting my mate was of utmost importance. If even from himself. Elisha's hands paused, trembling as they poised just over his pregnant belly.
His eyes opened.
Not much. Definitely not enough to get a sense of eye color. The hair on the back of my neck lifted when I felt his wolf watching me, but Elisha himself was too out of it to know who I was or would be to him.
His eyes weren't opening all the way because they were puffy and half-swollen. Something about those eyes triggered a memory. Several years ago, there had been a boy. I frowned, knowing this information was important, but I had to strain to bring it to mind.
What was bugging me? The boy… why was I picturing his young face?
That's right!
Shit. I remembered it clearly now. A boy at a park up near Sacramento had been stung by a bee and had an allergic reaction. The EpiPen Lucian produced had helped save him, but such tactics wouldn't work here. Of this, I felt sure. Elisha needed to be removed from the allergen. Quick, fast, and in a hurry. Wincing, I noticed the feathers stuck to the bloody claw marks on his butt.
Fuck. If this guy didn't have bad luck, he wouldn't have any at all, it seemed. Having an allergen touch his skin was bad enough, but in direct contact with his blood? Definitely not okay. I whipped off my jacket and flung it to the side, pulling my phone from my pocket as I toed off my shoes.
Jared answered on the first ring. "M-Matty? Why are you calling me? Is everything okay up there?"
Growling, I kicked my shoe, sending it flying toward a dresser across the room. "No. Everything is not okay. I'm taking Elisha into the bathroom, and we will be in the shower. By the time I get out, I would like the mattress and all of these goddamned feathers removed from the room. In addition to the aconite poisoning from the mating curse, it seems he’s also allergic to his own fucking bed. Can you fix it fast? Or maybe there’s another room where I can take him?"
Yes. Another room sounded better. A fresh room for a fresh start.
"Not a problem. I can have it fixed within ten minutes. There’s another bed the perfect size, in the guestroom we use when the territory chief or someone of his stature comes to visit. The mattress is brand new and won't take much to swap out."
I considered the concept, too frazzled to think clearly about the layout of the mansion. "How far away is this guestroom? Is it in this wing?"
"Yes, it's on the opposite end of the hall. Remember? It’s across from your childhood bedroom. If you want to move and are worried about either of you being seen, don’t worry. You have privacy because you're alone on the floor right now. I'll wait until I hear from you to proceed, okay?"
Did I want to claim my mate in the room he had shared with my uncle, where he experienced so many traumatic events? There was no question.
"Thank you, Jared. I will be moving my mate to the guest suite, which you may consider to be the new Alpha chambers. Do not allow anyone in this area while my mate is naked and vulnerable. I would hate for them to meet my wolf in full protection mode." I started to end the call, then remembered my manners. "Oh, and thanks, Jared. I'll be in touch."
I shoved my phone back in my pocket and scooped Elisha up. Holding him against my chest, I carried him bridal-style. I felt better with every step taking us away from his awful bed and away from a room stinking of hovering death.
Although I knew where the guest suite was located, this might as well have been a different home than the one I’d lived in. Everything was updated and far fancier and lusher than my father ever would’ve had. Nothing in the hall was familiar. Even the paint color had changed since I lived here, but muscle memory took me straight to my old room and past it to the old guest suite.
How had I forgotten its existence? Easy. My father had never needed it, having had no use for making nice with the territory chief or the supreme council.
The guest room was cold and lifeless, if well decorated. The single scent I picked up was a faint trace of lemon polish and a whiff of whoever had last cleaned in here. Good. A blank slate was exactly what Elisha and I needed.
I nudged the switch with my elbow, flooding the room with light before kicking the door shut. It was a large, well-appointed suite with a king-size bed to my left and a small sitting area straight ahead, arranged to enjoy the view from a multi-paned picture window. None of the details mattered at the moment. I only noticed a large dresser to my right when I nearly walked smack into it after I spotted the open bathroom door.
Yes. A shower. Perfect to get all these damn feathers off Elisha's body.
I couldn’t care less about the deluxe bathroom or the floor which heated beneath my feet almost as soon as I hit all three switches next to the door, rather than figuring out which one operated the light.