Page 34 of Bite

My entire world tilts on its axis as Clay explains what happened. As soon as he’s done, Tore and I stalk after him across the compound to River’s cabin.

I can smell the evidence of last night through the closed door, and while I’m enraged with Ferris for what he’s done to my mate, there’s a small, barely perceivable part of me that registers how good they smell together.

That little lantern of light dies when I walk into the cabin and find Raine passed out on the couch. It takes every ounce of strength in my entire body to stop my wolf from ripping through my skin to get to her. As it is, claws punch through my fingertips, and my muscles vibrate as I rush over to where she’s slumped.

“Shit,” Clay exhales from behind me. “She was fine when I left her,” he explains.

Ignoring him, I sink to my knees at the edge of the couch and raise my hand to cup her unusually pale cheek. The moment my skin touches her, I hiss, shocked by how hot she feels. “She’s burning up,” I snarl, already laying her on her side so I can remove her jacket and unwind the hideous scarf covering her neck. I force my claws to retract, then gently peel her out of her jacket. When I finally get the scarf free from her neck, I freeze in place as my scent goes haywire.

“What is it?” Tore asks, concern evident in his voice.

“Look at this.” I wave him over, and he comes to stand behind me, looking down at Raine.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

Raine’s pretty neck is mottled red and dripping sweat. Her right scent gland is swollen, angry, and pulsing under the raw bite there. Ferris’s teeth cut deeply into what should have been a perfect bond mark, yet something is very wrong. Hovering my hand above the wound, I can feel the horrible, radiant heat from the bite. I sniff her neck, devastated to smell the sour scent of infection and heartbreak.

Her chest stutters on labored breaths, and her eyes flit erratically behind her lids. She’s dangerously feverish with a clearly infected mate bite, and I don’t really know what to do. I gently shake her shoulder to try and wake her, but she doesn’t even stir.

“What’s happening?” Clay asks.

Tore’s voice is ruined when he answers, “She’s been left untended.”

A growl builds deep in my throat as realization dawns that Ferris didn’t tend her bite. After an omega is claimed with a bite, their bodies are meant to go through a hormonal surge so that their pheromones keep their mate close by for sex and bite tending. It acts as an emotional and physical bonding experience meant to help stabilize the omega’s pheromonal spike after being bitten. Without the care and hormonal regulation offered by this settling phase of bonding, an omega will become sick and crash. Depending on the severity of the bond sickness, untended mate bites can be lethal.

The horrifying reality is that based on her symptoms, Raine has already crashed, likely exacerbated by Ferris’s rejection. Add to that the festering infection, and she’ll be lucky to make it through alive. Maybe in the Before there would have been medicines and hormonal injections and hospitals for her to recover in, with specialized doctors to offer her complete care. Now, the best she’s got is me.

“What do we do?” Clay asks, sounding totally panicked.

My wolf pushes at the boundary between us. He wants to save this little beauty, needs to save her, and so do I. My teeth elongate into the canines of my wolf, and my mouth fills with so much pheromone-rich saliva that I feel it running from the corners.

Tend her, my wolf growls, and suddenly, there’s nothing in the entire world I want more than to lick my little omega’s throat.

I scoop her into my arms, sit on the couch, and arrange her over my lap, supporting her head in the crook of my arm. She fits in my arms like she was molded to lie here, just like this, with me caring for her. I can imagine her in my territory, snug in my den, resting in a nest she made just for us. My wolf likes that idea very much, so much, my chest rattles with a deep, rhythmic purr for the first time in my life.

“What are you doing?” Clay asks.

Tore responds for me, “Hush, pup, he’s listening to his instincts.”

Now, my wolf urges, she needs us now. I brush her hair away from her inflamed bite, prop her up in my arms, and let my wolf instincts take over completely. The first swipe of my tongue over her mate bite is life-altering. Her scent has always been hypnotizing, but her blood calls to me on a soul-deep level.

Our elders measure their lives by the distance between the Before and the After. I’ve always measured my life by the movements I’ve made within the Northern Pacific hierarchy. Each milestone—my wolf emerging, joining the Lunar Mother, being elevated to a clan Alpha, being sent to forge this alliance—marks another chapter in my life. I used to think each achievement was what defined me, what made me a good alpha and leader.

I was wrong. None of that matters, not when my entire life was leading up to this moment—the second I tasted my true mate’s blood on my tongue for the first time. She’s mine.

My arms tighten around her, hauling her into my chest as my tongue works her bite, pushing my saliva deep into the wound, massaging the tender flesh with its tip, and sucking her blood into my mouth. Swallowing her down.

The longer I tend the bite, the more of my saliva I bathe her in, the cooler she feels to the touch. I continue to purr deep and steady, healing her from the outside while I pump out as many sweet and calming pheromones as I can. Slowly, her breathing evens out, and I detach my mouth from her neck long enough to see that all of the red, inflamed flesh is now a calm, pretty pink.

My little mate is soft in my arms, her temperature way down, enough that her color begins to return, causing her lips and cheeks to flush prettily. I gaze down at her, study every inch of her face, and memorize the way her hair looks draped across my arm. I never want to forget this moment.

“How did that work?” Clay asks.

“Because she’s mine,” I growl. Clay seems to understand immediately and something like kinship shines in his eyes.

“What are you going to do?” Tore asks me. My mind whirls with all the possibilities, trying to decide the best way to handle this.

My voice is rough when I finally respond, “I need you to get this place cleaned up. There can be no evidence of her and Ferris if my plan is going to work. Open every window. Strip her bed. Do whatever it takes.”