It was one of the perks of being the sheriff in a small town. Everyone knew him. Everyone respected him. And people rarely questioned what he was doing because they trusted him completely.
We walked down the hall, around a corner, and Wyatt stopped dead in his tracks outside a pair of wooden doors with a dark blue sign that said “ICU” in white lettering hanging above them.
“Fuck,” I said, my stomach rolling as the seriousness of those letters pressed down on my chest.
“Do you need a minute before we go in?” Wyatt asked.
“No. I need to see him. I need to be there for him now,” I said, every alpha instinct to protect outweighing my fear.
If Felix is hurt, then he needs me by his side, caring for him, doing everything in my power to help him heal.
Wyatt nodded and pushed the doors open before leading me toward a room in the back corner of the unit. He waved to the nurses working on their computers at a large nurses’ station in the center of the unit and they nodded in clear recognition. Wyatt came to a stop in the open doorway of the hospital room, and my vision narrowed to the man in the bed.
My heart ached, plummeting to the floor as I took in the sight of the man I loved. The man I’d give my life for. The vibrant, healthy man in his midtwenties, who was strong and fit, looked so small in the big hospital bed. The oxygen tubes sticking out of his nose and the IV lines connected to his wrist stood out against his pale skin.
My palms started sweating, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up as Felix’s familiar scent—the soft scent of fresh snow that I’d come to know better than any other—filled my nostrils, combining with something that smelled wrong. It wasn’t just the distinct vinegar smell of heroin—though I could smell that too. There was also the metallic scent of blood in the air, the antiseptic scent of the hospital, and something that reminded me of tobacco.
“Who the hell are you?” Wyatt asked.
I turned my head to the right, taking my eyes off Felix just long enough to notice the person standing in the corner of the room. “I’m his mate. Who the hell are you?” the man said. The harsh overhead light shined down on his bald head and made his thin frame look gaunt.
Though I suppose over a decade of intravenous drug use will do that.
Wyatt looked at me, surprise on his face as I swallowed down the bile rising in my throat. I knew exactly who this asshole was. I had no idea what Felix’s ex looked like, but I knew this was him.
“I’m his partner,” I said, as it if held any weight at all when I was staring at the alpha who had claimed Felix years ago. The man who, by all legal standards, had more of a right to be here than I did. “I assume you’re Ryder.”
Ryder lifted his eyebrows. “Guess my little omega has some explaining to do.”
I growled and stepped toward him. “Call him yours again and see what happens, you piece of shit.”
Wyatt’s arm shot in front of me, holding me back.
“Bennett,” Wyatt hissed under his breath. “If you cause a scene, you’ll get kicked out.”
Ryder smiled slyly. “Don’t worry, I was just leaving. You can have some time alone with him. I’ll be back soon.”
“Why?” I asked as Ryder brushed past me to leave. “Why are you here at all?”
“Because I’m coming back for what’s mine.”
He walked out of the room and I stood there, gapping at the space he’d just vacated when I felt Wyatt’s hand on my shoulder. “You knew about him?”
“Of course, I knew about him.”
“Is he lying?”
“Would I smell this fucking terrified if he was?” I asked.
“I wasn’t going to draw attention to your fear,” Wyatt said. “Is he the reason why you and Felix haven’t bonded?”
I ran both hands through my hair, pulling the long strands away from my face. “You remember how bonds are broken?” I asked.
It was a lesson we all learned in high school health class. The basics of male and female anatomy; the designations of alpha, beta, and omega; and the fundamentals of scenting, attraction, reproduction, bonds, true mates, mates. It was all covered. Including the part where they taught us that bonds could only be broken two ways: an alpha willingly breaking the bond or a true mate bond overriding the existing, weaker bond. Or, of course, death.
Wyatt looked at me with confusion. “You’ve been saying Felix is your true mate from day one, Bennett. Why not just claim him and free him from his former bond if that’s what’s going on here?”
“I’d rather die than bond him to me without being certain it’s what he wants, especially when I know that our bond would be permanent.”