Boris Langston never strayed far from his Healer's Badge—and never from the Pack's Healing House, tucked deep in the Southside Forest. Not even today.
Today, the day he was supposed to sever his bond with Alpha Malakai.
But Bailey, his wolf, had sensed first the pulse of looming violence, the scent of blood on the wind, a person or more to be healed. A clash was coming, a brutal fight between the Western Wind Pack and the Crescent Fall Pack, only six minutes away. There was no time to waste. Duty came first. It always did.
In the small mirror nailed to the healing house wall, Boris adjusted his white fur coat and stared at his reflection. A crooked, bitter smile tugged at his lips. No one cared where he went, not really. He was just an omega with a female wolf despite being male, and two mismatched irises no one ever bothered to understand. It probably meant nothing.
The door suddenly slammed open with a violent crack and crashed against the wall so hard the frame groaned.
Boris barely had time to lift his head before the light switch snapped—click. Darkness swallowed the room whole.
His breath hitched. He froze. His whole body trembled, the fine hairs on his neck stiffening like bristles. He hated the dark.
"Wh-what are y…."
The words never made it out complete because he was abruptly shoved hard, his chest literally smashing against the mirror. The mirror rattled wildly on its single nail, pretending to be secure, but it wasn't. Just like Boris.
A claw, sharp and cold, pressed against the skin of Boris' neck. Not enough to cut—yet—but enough to threaten.
"Shut it," growled a voice from behind. That voice was low. It was rough. Seemingly bleeding with danger.
Boris's instincts screamed, but so did his healing training. Slowly, he called on Bailey's sight—his left eye that was initially gold, the wolf's gaze piercing the dark.
"Blood," his wolf replied.
Bailey saw blood that dripped from the man's face, no, soaked the face entirely. Bailey saw that the man was a stranger. He had no scent of his Pack.
With his human eye, the right one that was naturally blue, Boris looked at the dark mirror… He saw them. Two glowing red eyes locked onto his own, fierce, cold, unrelenting. They stared straight through him.
The sharp scent of blood burned his nostrils. This man was hurt. Badly.
Was this what Bailey had sensed? Was this the bloodspill in the vision?
Despite the icy grip of fear, something inside Boris clicked. His healer's instinct. Years of studying the wounded and the dying in a Pack that barely saw him. Yes, it clawed at him.
He inhaled slowly. "Stay calm. Be useful. That's what healers do," he thought to himself.
He bent one knee ever so slightly, testing an angle; maybe he could jab into the man's side and break free.
But before he could strike, the pressure on his legs tightened like iron bands. The man had noticed exactly what Boris wanted to do. The man was too fast. The man was too strong.
And he… was trapped!
Boris heard footsteps. Footsteps that were getting really close, approaching the door. Then he heard a voice, "I'm sure that big wolf came this way."
Boris's breath caught. The stranger's body tensed too.
In a heartbeat of desperation, the man dipped down and kissed him.
Boris's eyes flew wide. He reacted on instinct, shoving the man back—not hard, but enough. The stranger let him. He didn't fight. Didn't claw. Just stood there in the dark, staring into him like he could see Boris even without light.
And for a second.... Boris froze. His first kiss.
Click.
The doorknob turned.
Something surged through Boris—panic, heat, instinct. He moved before he could think. He tilted his head and pressed his lips back to the stranger's own, wrapping his arms around the man's neck like it meant something.
Yes, yes, he was gay and maybe pathetic for wanting this, especially now, but it wasn't just want. Something deeper pushed him forward.
"I can save you," Boris whispered, voice trembling beneath a forced calm.
The man's crimson eyes flickered and then darkened. It became as thick and deep as oxblood red. His breath rolled hot against Boris's ear, his voice a rumble of smoke and desire. "I will make you my mate then."
No, he misunderstood. That wasn't what Boris meant. He just wanted to help. He wanted to heal.
But then… a flush bloomed beneath Boris's skin. It was out of nowhere and searing. "No, not now," he cried in his heart.
His body gave in. Heat rolled over him like a tide. He whimpered—low, breathy, and terribly soft. He moaned like a lady in heat, only, he was actually in heat just not a lady.
"Today? Why today?"
The door creaked open. A sliver of hallway light spilled into the room, brushing across Boris's face.
The strange man shifted forward, his larger body shielding Boris from view. In the dim light, only their silhouettes could be seen. Their silhouettes were tangled, heated, unmistakable.
"What in the moon goddess…?! It's just a couple making out in here!" one voice blurted, clearly assaulted by what he just saw. "But in the healing house????!!!!"
"That's not the Red Hound Wolf," another scoffed. "This one's too small. You think the hound would escape us just to screw some obvious omega in here?"
"Was that a man moaning just now?" a third asked, half-disgusted, and half-enthralled.
"Let it be," the first voice said, footsteps already retreating. "If they're both omegas, they'll be dead soon enough. No way are they not going to be found out by someone else. We need to find the Red Hound."
The door clicked shut. Silence returned... well, except for the sound of breathing.
The stranger exhaled slowly. The danger had passed, but he didn't move. He suddenly couldn't.
He stayed pressed to Boris like something unseen tethered him there. He licked his lips, his gaze hungry, heat pulsing off him. Aha, there was a certain scent in the air and it was warm and intoxicating like perfume made aphrodisiac.
Boris's rational mind returned, at least partly. He needed his heat suppressant. He needed space. He needed control.
He pushed gently at the man's chest with both hands. Soft palms on hot skin. His thoughts snagged. "I need to be reserved for my mate."
"Your mate?" His wolf questioned. "The one you were supposed to be breaking bonds with today? Do you think such a man as Alpha Malakai wants a man as a mate, or a weak Omega with a female wolf, or a potential disgrace who goes into heat every month!?"