Claimed (Werewolf boyxboy)

Chapter 31

COREY

The space between my eyelids burned and everything was heavy, an invisible force compelling my limbs into immobility.

'Why can't I move?'

On second thought, were they even attached to my body? I couldn't tell.

No, this wasn't right.

I was too open, too exposed, too defenseless to hold my own if someone were to attack. Any warrior would know that. I needed to get to safety, and fast.

'... Just need to figure out how to use my hands, first.'

A shrill beeping echoed to the back of my skull, growing more rapid by the second as it taunted me. The sound reverberated endlessly, the void of my brain warping any sense of time to the point where I wondered if it would everstop.

... Was I dead?

Certain religions dictated that my preferences for men would eventually lead to my descent into hell, and the ache in my forehead coupled with the state of defenselessness that I currently found myself in quickly led to the beginning stages of entertaining such a horrid concept.

Luckily, before my mind could take that evil thought and run wildly with it, something interrupted my outlandish flight of ideas.

A... sensation. In the form of a barely detectable pressure on my phantom arm.

Someone was here.

"Hey, it's okay..." The person soothed, "Don't worry. I've got you."

I knew that voice.

The soft, slightly husky drawl rushed over my rigid nerves like the warm, rising tide of a beach, and instantly lowered my guard in some raw, indefinable way.

I knew that voice. That voice was unmistakable. That voice was home.

And if that voice was here, it meant that I wasn't dead. I couldn't be, seeing as to how there is no way in this universe that I would ever let anyone harm a hair on his gorgeous, curly head.

The sensation increased as whatever was touching me stroked a gentle caress up and over my body to finally rest on my forehead. And just as quickly as it started, that echoed beeping began to slow and the knife behind my forehead dulled its assault to the whisper of an ache, leaving nothing but exhaustion in its wake.

... How did he do that? Maybe this person was magical, too.

The world wobbled behind closed eyelids as enervation became me.

I needed to sleep. Not for too long, just for a few years.

"Go back to sleep, my love. I'll be right here when you wake up. I promise."

The Voice spoke as if he had managed to extract just what I needed directly from the jumbled confines of my mind, and my skin buzzed with contentment and something much stronger than joy when something plump and indescribably soft pressed against my lips.

My immediate instinct was to lean into the touch, to press back with a force so bruising that the owner of The Voice wouldn't be able to escape my claim even if they tried. But seeing as to how my brain and body were still more than delighted with existing on completely different planets at the moment, acting on said desire was not a current member of my exceedingly slim arsenal of options.

Maybe once I got all stitched back together, whoever owned The Voice would let me take them on a date. Yeah, I could settle for that.

... Maybe.