Page 61 of Marked By Love

Theodore

With Royce gone, Theodore strapped on his hip bag with his .38 and went to the clinic. His first patient wasn’t due for another hour, and he thought Mutt would enjoy some time in the fresh air.

She lifted her head and wiggled her butt when Theo went into the back. Big Poppa lumbered forward and headbutted Theodore’s shin.

He scratched Big Poppa, who purred appreciatively as Mutt got up and nuzzled Theodore’s face. He removed her cone, and she instantly shook out her ruff and scratched an ear.

“Does our little girl want to go for a walk?”

Mutt woofed and cooperated with the harness and lead while Theo told her she was a good girl. She limped to the back door, her drooping tail trying to wag.

Big Poppa meowed indignantly at being left behind. Theodore idly thought he should start leash training Big Poppa so they could all go on walks together.

Walking Mutt along the greenery between the clinic and the cabin, the air was crisp and cold. The scent of wet, dead leaves filled his nose as frost painted the leaves and blades of grass crunching under his feet, the scent of ozone thick in the air. A storm was moving in.

The mountainscape that typically graced Elk Cove was hidden beneath dense clouds of fog. His eyes wandered to the patch of woods behind the cabin, mostly obscured by the thick haze lingering between the foliage. Theodore idly wondered which of his protectors was keeping vigil in the chill.

Of all the small towns he’d lived in, Elk Cove was his favorite. Theodore thought that might have something to do with a certain blonde-haired wolf shifter. His cheeks flushed, and he couldn’t help but wander back to the mornings waking up tangled in Royce. His touches were soft and loving, yet rough and unrelenting when Theodore needed it. But it was more than the physical.

Theodore hated to admit it, but he’d grown to enjoy Royce’s company. Talking to him late into the night, cooking meals together, he found himself confiding things to the alpha he’d never said aloud before.

Once more seeing Royce interact with the pets and workers at the clinic had been a wonderful surprise. Royce’s company had been pleasant. He’d warmed up to Big Poppa—even though he’d never admit it—and was exceptional at comforting the injured Mutt. Not only that, but he’d been beyond kind to Theodore’s fellow omegas, in a way that was natural and organic rather than forced pleasantries to get what he wanted. And then after spending hours at the clinic with Theodore, Royce was more than happy to feed the fires in the cabin and make them a home-cooked meal while constantly reassuring Theodore that his heat symptoms were nothing to be embarrassed about.

If Royce was going to keep acting like this, Theodore was going to have no choice but to give him a chance. And maybe even admit the alpha was charming.

Slowly but surely, the alpha’s patience had been chipping away at Theodore’s salty exterior. But he liked his salty exterior. It’s what kept him safe and alive in a world that was cruel and uncertain. Letting his walls down, even enough for only Royce to climb over them, was a terrible thing to consider.

Theodore’s heat had ended days ago; as the intense brain fog abated, he was left with unfaltering clarity. Post-heat clarity, some called it. He was simply waiting until the enforcers had some sort of concrete plan to deal with the traffickers before he said anything, but he couldn’t deny it any longer. He wasn’t falling for Royce, he’d already fallen.

Mutt let out a little woof, getting Theodore’s attention. She was fixated on something down the road.

Theodore still had time before his first appointment, and if Mutt felt up to it, she should use her leg. He followed her across the greenery away from the clinic. He didn’t frequent this part of the yard often; it was in the opposite direction of the other businesses, and the forest butted up to the main road here. But he could see how that would appeal to the dog.

Out of nowhere, Mutt froze. The top of her lip curled, and her hackles raised as a low growl rumbled in her chest. Theodore stopped, searching the shadows between the trees. Ever so slowly, he moved the leash to his non-dominant hand. His left hand slipped to his hip bag, easing the zipper open. Eyes still searching forward, his fingers brushed the cold steel of his .38. He gripped the hilt.

His heart hammered.

Everything around him went still. The wind ceased, the leaves stopped rustling, the cold no longer tickled his skin, even Mutt’s growls seemed to fade into the void as he went on high alert. His body tight with anticipation.

Large and vicious, a shadow rushed from the trees. A black bear stampeded forward, its teeth bared; it was flanked by two alphas in fatigues.

Theodore drew, aimed, and squeezed.

He let out four shots in quick succession. Red sprayed from the bear’s center, and the alpha on his left grabbed his shoulder. Dropping the leash, Theodore prayed the noise would scare Mutt, and she would run back to the clinic for shelter.

The bear roared, and the second alpha cursed. The third alpha rushed him. Theodore adjusted his aim and fired. It was no use, her chest was covered in armor. He raised the pistol, aiming for the alpha’s head, if he was fast enough … Drawing her own weapon, the alpha brought the hard steel across Theodore’s face.

Somewhere in the distance, a dog howled.

Everything went dark.

Chapter twenty-nine

Royce

Margarette stood in the greenery behind the clinic, her face contorted and red as tears fell down her face, her voice carrying across the open yard. Gerald stood in front of the clinic, his phone pressed to his ear as he yelled into it.

Amelia soared in the skies above, her hawk eyes hunting. Scott’s wolf had his nose to the ground, searching for a path. Buford’s grizzly stood erect, eyes sharp on the perimeter.