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“What the fuck? The driveway is not a racetrack, and we don’t offer valet parking.”
“Don’t just stand there, help me,” Saint threw back.
“What’s wrong with him?” Rafe asked as he rushed to Marshall’s other side and eased some of his weight off Saint.
“His symptoms came back, but worse, while we were away.”
“Huh. That might explain why Aaron has been like a bear with a sore head since late yesterday,” Rafe said.
“Is… is he okay?” Marshall rasped.
“He’s been really short with everyone, not like himself. We put it down to the fact you guys stayed an extra night away, but we should have realized it was a reaction of the soul bond.”
Marshall’s stomach dipped, and he gripped Saint tighter. “Stop!”
Both feline shifters froze. Marshall took a few deep breaths, trying to center himself and push away the waves of nausea. He was vaguely aware of hurried footsteps echoing down the corridor ahead of them. Neither Saint nor Rafe reacted to the approach, so he knew whoever it was wasn’t a threat to their safety.
“Get him to the clinic,” Sam directed.
“No! Need Aaron.”
“Damn it, Marsh, you need to be checked out. Aaron can meet you in the clinic,” Saint growled at him.
Marshall shook his head and then swayed when a bout of dizziness hit.
“No,” he whispered. “I just….”
“Marshall!!” Aaron’s shout echoed through the large entrance, and Marshall sagged in relief. He opened his eyes to see the Alpha jogging towards him.
“What’s wrong?” Warm hands cradled his face, and Marshall collapsed into Aaron’s arms.
“His symptoms came back tenfold, and he won’t go to the clinic,” Saint told him, his hand still gripping the back of Marshall’s shirt.
Aaron’s arms came around him, and Marshall moaned as burning heat shot through him. Aaron’s mouth brushed his ear, breath warm as he whispered, “What do you want?”
“Jus… just you,” Marshall huffed out.
“Okay.” Aaron shifted to where Rafe had been supporting him. “To my room, now.”
Marshall felt Saint’s rumble of disagreement, and he squeezed his friend’s waist.
“I’ll call for Sam if I need him. I promise,” Aaron reassured him.
Saint huffed in response but helped Aaron guide Marshall to Aaron’s suite.
Once inside, Aaron led them to the couch, and Marshall slumped down, dropping his head between his knees to stop from fainting. He could hear Aaron and Saint quietly speaking at the door, but he didn’t have the energy to worry.
A warm hand settled between his shoulder blades, and the seat dipped as Aaron sat next to him. Marshall relaxed his weight into the other man, taking shallow breaths to keep the contents of his stomach where they should be.
“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” Aaron asked softly, threading his fingers through the hair at Marshall’s nape.
“No. Just need to sit for a minute.”
They sat in companionable silence until Marshall’s stomach stopped churning, and he felt he could open his eyes without passing out. He moved his hand to Aaron’s thigh and squeezed. Aaron’s other hand covered his, and a small jolt went through Marshall at the skin-on-skin contact.
“What do you need, Marshall?”
“Just being near you is helping,” he admitted.
