Page 27

Dr. Abbott’s eyes strained and bugged, something cold and metallic was pushed at Royce.

“Shhh, it’s okay, we’ll get you better.” Royce tried to soothe the omega, but it only agitated him. He gripped the tin harder, a terrible rattling sounded in the back of his throat before his eyes rolled.

His mate went limp in Royce’s arms.

Stupefied, he sat on the floor of the cabin. He was vaguely aware of Buford shoving him aside and working over Doc, the calm and clear commands he called out over the phone as he pulled items from his bag, poking and prodding at his mate’s listless body.

He should be roaring and raging, howling with indignation. Instead, he was numb. Physically and mentally unable to process what was happening in front of him. Unwilling to acknowledge that his mate might be gone already.

Even when Dr. Shera came through the door and knelt beside Buford. The only thing Royce was able to register was the cool, hard object in his hands and the slow trickle of tears falling down his face.

Royce looked but didn’t see, heard but couldn’t process. When Buford and the doctor stood on either side of his mate and made to hoist him up, Royce snapped. Shoving the tin under the sofa, he leapt to his feet.

“I’ll do it,” he demanded, taking Doc from their arms. He lay him on the sofa.

“I was going to take him to the hospital,” Dr. Shera said.

“He doesn’t trust hospitals. I asked him if he wanted to go this morning, and he freaked. He’ll be more comfortable here,” Royce growled.

“I need to know everything this omega has been taking,” Dr. Shera demanded the second Royce had his mate settled in his nest on the sofa. Buford hung up an IV and took more vitals. Royce shuddered at the sight of the bags and tubes disappearing into the cocoon of blankets.

Not again.

“He’s taking alpha birth control,” Royce said, his voice hollow. “He keeps it in his hip bag. I’m pretty sure he’s on a suppressor too.”

Dr. Shera went through Doc’s bags. She was a beta with long black hair that was streaked with gray.

“What?” Buford asked. “You only told me he was taking suppressor. That’s serious, Royce, you should have told me immediately.”

“I didn’t want to betray him. He didn’t tell anyone on purpose …”

“How long has he been using these?” Shera brandished the pill packet and the spray bottle. “This suppressor is witch-made; this is a highly dangerous combination.”

“I don’t know. We only just met, I don’t know.” Royce’s voice broke.

Dr. Shera considered him.

“Buford, can this alpha be trusted alone with this omega?”

“What?!” Royce balked.

“I don’t see a mate mark on this omega, which means you have no official binding. For all I know, you’ve been stalking him or trying to force a mate bond.”

“I would never—”

“I have to take all threats to my patients seriously.”

Royce puffed out his chest and glowered at the beta.

“He’s good,” Buford placated. “And I’ll stop by to do regular checks and report everything back to you.”

Dr. Shera nodded. “I don’t like not taking him to the hospital …”

“He hates hospitals,” Royce said.

“He’s a vet.” Dr. Shera looked at Royce dubiously.

“He’s a little odd. But that doesn’t really matter, does it?” Royce asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What, what exactly happened?”