It was a young man, barely in his twenties, but his face was so scratched up and bloody that I nearly recoiled. Dried blood crusted down his temple from a large cut just underneath his hairline. His blond hair was dirty and bloodied. The entirety of his chest was covered in slashes that looked like they came from a large animal. Fang marks on his shoulder were still bloody, and looked fresh, like they hadn’t even had time to closeupyet.
The remains of a shirt were scattered on the ground beneath him, torn to pieces. The only piece of clothing in decent condition were his jeans, but even they were cut up andbloody.
The young man was awreck.
I was so busy focusing on his wounds that I barely heard my friends gasping and crying out as they reachedmyside.
“What happened to him?” Tyson asked,horrified.
“Who is he? Does anyone recognize him? Is he one of ours?” Flintgrowled.
Jericho shook his head in sympathy for the young man. “I don’t think so. I’ve never seen his face before, but… Maybe without all the bloodonit…”
Just then, the young man groaned. It was a rough, weak sound - I’d heard stronger noises from dyinganimals.
“Can you speak?” I asked desperately, although I was sure I already knew theanswer.
He just whimpered inresponse.
“Just listen then,” I instructed him. “My name is Ken, and I’m a doctor. These are my friends. We are Indigo Mountain shifters. We’re going to take you back to our pack and help you. Make some kind of noise if you’re okaywiththis.”
Blinking past the dry blood, he cracked his eyes open. They were a deep, intelligent brown. He gruntedslightly.
“Okay,” I said. “I’m going to lift you and carry you. This might hurt a bit, so prepareyourself.”
He made a tiny noise again. As carefully as possible, I scooped him up into my arms. He groaned and clenched his eyes together. I grimaced, thinking about all the wounds he must have that I hadn’t even seen yet, and how much pain he must be in. I didn’t even know this man, but my heart ached with sympathyforhim.
“We’re going to get you to safety soon,” I reassured him. “Justhangon.”
He didn’t say anything. A few minutes later, I noticed his body was a bit more limp in my arms and his head lolled to the side. He was still breathing, but he must have passed out from the pain. I gritted my teeth and movedfaster.
It felt like ages before we finally returned to town. We went straight to my home, which was a two-story building. My clinic was on the ground floor, and the second floor was my personalapartment.
As I laid him on the table and began preparing my tools, my friends stood around, speaking with equal parts anger andcompassion.
“Who could’ve done this?” Flint growled. “And he’s soyoung,too!”
“Must be Scarlet Ridge,” Jericho snapped. “Only they could’ve done something thisdespicable.”
“But, you guys, we don’t even know where this guy is from,” Tyson added. “Maybehe’sfrom ScarletRidge,too.”
Jericho and Flint’s eyes widened. Both their mates were escapees from Scarlet Ridge pack, and they both instantly had the same idea as they snapped their attention to the man on thetable.
“Do you think he’s an omega?” Flint askedquietly.
“I dont know,” I admitted. “He smelled too much like blood and fear for me tonotice.”
I decided to check now. I quickly undressed and put my clothes aside (out of all my friends, I was the most proper when it came to not ripping my clothes while shifting), quickly shifted, and gave the patient a deep sniff. I shifted back and dressed myself. “Yes,” I confirmed. “He’s anomega.”
The other alphas exchangedglances.
“Do you think he’s another refugee?” Jerichoasked.
“He must be,” Flint growled before adding, “Those bastards. It’s getting worse everysingletime.”
Nobody mentioned it out loud, but we all thought about Mason - Jericho’s mate - and the oppression he’d suffered at Scarlet Ridge, including wearing a shock collar that prevented his escape fromthepack.
“That reminds me,” I murmured. “The patient isn’t wearing one of thosecollars.”
