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So who am I?
25
Idrift toward consciousness, my body too heavy to lift, and my brain too fogged to form a single coherent thought.
The first thing I register is a stranger’s voice, hissing with restrained anger. “What were you thinking, man? Three mating Marks back-to-back? Were you trying to kill him?”
“He’s my mate,” Orien responds matter-of-factly. “He can handle it.”
“He can handle— For fuck’s sake, Orien! Do you have any idea what kind of side effects that shitty drug has on Omega bodies? You’re lucky he didn’t seize, you absolute—”
The sound of metal hitting a hard surface cuts through the darkness. I fight through the layers of sleep, trying to place where I am and why someone is arguing about my body.
“I didn’t bring you here to nag me.” The words come out clipped. “Give him the IV. I can’t get any water into him in this condition.”
“Fucking asshole,” the other man mutters. “I’m a lab tech, not a nurse. You should take him to a clinic.”
My throat aches when I swallow, my tongue thick and dry, and every muscle in my body aches, as if I’ve been run through a wringer. I try to open my eyes, but my lids might as well be made of lead.
A stranger’s fingers brush my inner elbow, and a chemical scent stings my nose, isopropyl alcohol, before a cold, wet cotton ball slides across my skin.
Training kicks in, muscle memory driving me forward as I roll and lunge, my hand already moving for the closest vulnerable point. My fingers connect with warm skin, and I follow through, wrapping my arm around my target’s throat and using my momentum to take him down.
A surprised yelp turns into a choked sound as we hit the floor together, my arm locked around the stranger’s neck. The IV drip pole topples with a clatter, tubes and bags flying as I tighten my grip.
“You fucking psycho—” The stranger’s words cut off into a wheeze.
I force my eyelids up, blinking away the blurriness until the person beneath me comes into focus. A man with sandy hair and wire-rimmed glasses knocked askew.
Recognition comes a half-second later. William Mosley. The Beta that the Blue Note Crew has stationed at the police forensics lab. Shock widens his brown eyes, his hands raise in the universal sign of surrender.
“Good to see you awake,” he wheezes past the pressure on his windpipe, but he shows no sign of fear as he takes in the bruises and bite marks that cover my naked body. “Though, maybe I should be giving you more than an IV?”
A growl rises from behind me. “Keep looking at my mate like that, and I’ll dig out your eyeballs.”
I glance back to see Orien hovering over us, shoulders rigid and hands flexing at his sides. He stands ready to step in, but he holds back, giving me space.
William’s focus shifts to the ceiling as his hands remain raised. “He’s the one who jumped me.”
“It’s a good thing you’re a Beta, or I’d kill you,” Orien replies.
“Hey, I was just doing…well, not my job, exactly, but who cares that practicing medicine without a license could get me thrown in jail?”
A warm hand settles on my nape, fingers tracing my new Mark. My racing heart slows in response, muscles going loose as the tension drains out of me. The touch grounds me, reconnecting me to my body after the shock of waking up in combat mode.
“It’s okay,” Orien murmurs. “He’s here to help.”
I allow him to lift me off William and deposit me back on the bed, my muscles protesting the movement with twinges of pain. The sheet slides over my over-sensitized skin, the cool cotton a shock after the heat of the last... How many hours has it been?
Orien swaddles me in the sheet to cover me from the chin down, then pulls my arm free and reaches for the alcohol swabs to clean my inner elbow again.
“I don’t need an IV,” I rasp, my throat rough from the abuse of Heat-driven pleasure.
Orien shushes me with a kiss on my forehead, then turns to William. “Get off your ass and finish the job.”
“Charming as ever,” William mutters, climbing to his feet and retrieving the fallen IV pole. “Didn’t even ask if I’m okay.”
“You’re breathing,” Orien replies. “That’s all I care about.”
