Claimed (Werewolf boyxboy)

Chapter 30

COREY'S POV

"Sedation syringe?"

"Back pocket."

"Protection vest?"

"Under my shirt."

"Knife?"

"God/dess, Benji. For the fifth time, he has everything!" Jax finally shouted, fed up with the medic's constant worrying as he walked back and forth at a worrying pace.

Chaotic strings of anxiety thrummed through our link as my mate continued to wear down a divot into the hallway floorboards. I barely even recognized where my legs were carrying me until I suddenly stood right in front of him, cupping those soft, freckled cheeks in calloused palms.

"Breathe, gift."

Exaggerating my own breaths gave him a reference to pull from, and sooner than later, those beautiful, green eyes flickered up to mine and held. The emerald depths were watery with fear, but I could tell by the slightest tremor in his jaw that he was holding tears back as best he could.

My mate was so strong.

"I'm...I'm sorry," He breathed, stepping closer to bury the front of his body against my chest. The connection wasn't enough, the thick vest situated underneath my shirt dulling the flickers of electricity that I so craved, but it would have to do for now. There was work to do. "You shouldn't be the one consoling me. You have enough burdens on your shoulders right now." He continued, sucking in a deep breath before tilting his head up to rest his chin on my pec.

The strained yet bright smile that I was bequeathed with sent my breathing straight into manual mode, and I instantly indulged myself in the urge to scent him; to cover my Omega in my essence, to give him something to cling to as he awaited my safe return.

"You are never a burden, Jax," I assured gently, quick to dispel the absurd idea of his existence causing any additional difficulty to my life. "Our hardships are not a competition. No matter how big or small your affliction may be, I will always have time for you."

I could feel the chewed-up nubs of his nails as they dug deep into my sides, a silent plea for me to stay. It took every ounce of willpower to deny him, to peel myself away and press soft kisses to every single one of those fingertips before placing the softest of them all onto his own lips.

It was more than likely that this retrieval was not going to go smoothly, and we all knew it. We'd been debriefed on every single past attempt to get through to my father, and judging by the photos of the wounds that multiple of our warriors had sustained, potentiated by accounts of the red hue increasingly overtaking his blown irises, we had no idea if he would recognize anyone at this point.

Rayson's psyche was – understandably – lost to the depth of his grief for my dad, but his subsequent descent into madness did not give us the most confident stance on a positive long-term prognosis.

The only thing we had left was hope. Hope that he could somehow find the strength to go on, to find meaning in a world that had so brutally ripped away the other half of his soul.

Jax's barely-audible whimper and the way he instinctively followed after my lips as I pulled our mouths apart almost made my knees buckle, and it was then that I knew that it was time. If I stayed even a moment longer, I would never find it in me to leave him.

"It's time for me to go now." I whispered, placing a final kiss on his forehead.

Jax nodded with understanding, but I still had to pry his fingers open to make him release me.

"O-Okay..." He gulped, staring at a spot on the floor in front of him, "I know he's your dad but... Please protect yourself. Don't be afraid to use the sedative, or.. or even the knife if you really have to."