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Cursing, Odin pulled back, waiting a moment to see if ignoring whoever was out there would get the point across. When it didn’t, and the pounding only increased, he cursed and shoved off Hunter and the bed, storming over to the door.
He didn’t bother covering up as he slammed a palm against the door panel, ready to kill whoever dared interrupt the mating he’d worked two weeks to achieve.
The second the door opened, Corbi, one of his closest confidants and head of his private security detail, stepped back and kept her head down. “I apologize, Dominus, but there’s been an emergency.”
“Someone better be dead or—”
“It’s Jita, sir,” she boldly cut him off, which was the sign he needed to break through the lust and focus on her. Her expression was pinched, her shoulders slightly hunched in worry. “He’s currently in critical condition. It’s unclear if he’ll make it through the night.”
“Take me to him.” Odin moved to step from the room and swore again, recalling he was naked. Spinning on his heels, he went to the wardrobe, pulling the first items of clothing he saw in a hurry. On his way past the bed a second time, he came to an abrupt halt, turning to Hunter.
“Go.” The Huntsman had sat up and covered himself with a pillow since Corbi was still just outside the door. He didn’t appear to be upset that Odin had to leave right as they were getting to the good stuff. The opposite. He looked as though he understood.
“I’ll leave Loni outside the room,” Odin told him. “If you need anything—”
“It’s fine,” he insisted. “Go.”
“This isn’t over, Huntsman.”
“I fully intend to hold you to that,” Hunter replied without skipping a beat.
Part of Odin wanted to linger, to try and read him and see if he was okay with his leaving because he’d had second thoughts. If he went now, would he return to a sulky Hunter again? The one that refused him? Would he be blowing his chance to mate?
“Sir,” Corbi called him from the hall, snapping him out of it for the second time.
Odin clenched his fists at his sides and gave Hunter one last lengthy look. “Be good.”
Even when the door lock clicked and chimed at his back and he saw Loni appear down the other end of the hall and move to take a position in front of it, Odin still couldn’t shake the feeling of unease.
He hated leaving Hunter right now, but nothing could be done about it. He was the Snow Dominus, and as such, he had responsibilities that simply could not be ignored. And Jita was loyal, always had been. He deserved Odin’s concern at this moment.
“What happened?” he damned as he and Corbi made their way down to the parking garage and slipped into his hovercar, with her in the driver’s seat.
“He was attacked on his way home,” she said as she pulled them out onto the street and sped through a red light, bringing them to the nearest hospital. “Vetle is with the police now, combing through all the nearby security footage they could find. He was too badly beaten when he was found and wasn’t able to tell them anything.”
“Who found him?”
“A passerby,” she met his gaze briefly in the rearview mirror, knowing already what he was about to ask next. “I’ve run a background check on them already, and it came back clean. They live in the apartment building next door to his.”
Jita had worked as Odin’s counselor for almost ten years, nearly the entire time he’d been in charge of the Snow Family Brumal. He was in charge of all of the paperwork regarding the new properties Odin had been purchasing as of late, those in Frost territory. His face was also well known amongst the Brumal members of every branch. Even lowlife punks wouldn’t have been stupid enough to attack him.
No, this was a planned affront and, as far as Odin was concerned, a declaration of war.
They arrived at the hospital, and the two of them were greeted in the lobby by a medical staff of five, as well as two members of the Brumal whom Odin had left in charge of Jita’s protective detail.
“I’ll deal with you later,” he promised them, stopping before the man he assumed was the head doctor. “Tell me everything.”
“He survived the surgery,” the man informed him. He was at least thirty years Odin’s senior, yet he clasped his hands before himself in a sign of respect. “But I can’t guarantee how things will go from here. If he can make it till morning, there’s a good chance he’ll be all right. We’ve done everything we can for him as of now, and we’ll continue to do so.”
Odin motioned him forward, silently ordering him to bring him to Jita’s room. “His injuries?”
“A punctured lung and ruptured ople,” the doctor said. That was part of the body that helped break down toxins and was found on the right side.
“Did they not use weapons?” Odin asked.
“It seems that they managed to get the jump on him,” Corbi told him from a few steps behind.
“He has a fractured skull as well,” the doctor continued. “Signs that his head was bashed against something, most likely the ground. Three broken fingers and a broken wrist. There’s only one injury caused by an actual weapon, a single knife wound to the left thigh.”
