Bitter Winter

Chapter 4

I hadn't seen a meal like this since my eyes turned yellow, designating me as the only male omega my pack had ever seen, marking me as an outcast and the shame of the pack. My eyes flick over the spread before me, awestruck. Jam made from fruit preserved from summer to put on bread that wasn't a week old? Pasta with hot, rich, red tomato sauce? Fruits and vegetables were not something I was ever given in winter, but here they are - harvested in summer and stored in jars as sauces and jams for the higher ranking wolves in winter... but my fill was on offer. My mouth begins to water, but I quickly remember my manners - the highest ranking Were takes the first bite. The last thing I want is to spit in his generosity's face and have him take it away. I look over to... Dayn, he said his name is. He meets my gaze, eyes full of concern, and opens his mouth,"What's wrong, little one? Is there nothing you like?"

I gather my strength to speak, and mumble, "No, I am incredibly grateful, this looks wonderful. Please, go ahead, I'll have whatever you don't want."

Visibly shaken, he springs up and quickly comes around and takes my plate. Fearing slightly, I quickly rethink what I just said. Did I not indicate proper respect? Dispelling my fears, he deposits many of the foods onto my plate. Things I never would have been allowed back home.

"Eat. Don't worry about me. Little one, I am well fed, and you are not. If you are this badly starved, and you're busy thinking about waiting for the alpha, you don't see yourself as a person, but a lesser being; and I won't stand for that. The alpha of this pack thinks whoever is hungriest should take the first bite, no matter what your old, pathetic excuse for an alpha drilled into you with these beatings; and your mate won't take food away from you or beat you." He was practically snarling at the mentions of beatings and my old alpha. Quickly, he calmed himself down. "I won't eat a thing until you're well fed."

Gently, his large hands wind my wounds in gauze, working his way up my body. I barely glance at the candles flickering, illuminating the tile room, or really anything that isn't how the huge muscles in his arm shift when he moves around. Carefully, as he wraps my right arm, he questions softly, "What is your name, beautiful mate?"

"Joshua", I murmur quietly.

"Joshua", he repeats, turning the name over in his mouth like he's trying on a shirt that fits just right. He cracks a smile, "I love it." He cuts the gauze and rips a strip of the beige medical tape off the spool to hold it closed. "You should be all good to go for now. You're probably not really capable of walking, but I'll carry you to the nesting chambers. Just let me know if I'm pressing on anything that hurts."

I'm drained - more drained than I've ever been before. It's like I can't move my own body, like somehow everything but breathing itself is herculean, and it isn't incredibly easy to even fill my lungs either. Dayn is scurrying around, frantically bringing everything soft he can find, from towels to hoodies, to build a makeshift nest big enough for both of us. His red eyes are glinting as if a hidden jeweler is shining light off them at just the right angle. I can probably watch his powerful muscles shift around his large frame forever under normal circumstances, but I'm convinced that if any more energy spills into the invisible drain below me, I'll just die. I wish Dayn would just come get me already, my skin burns where I need his arms around me and I can't possibly open my mouth.

As if I'd yelled for him, his head snaps toward me and he leaps toward me animalistically, but regains composure before I start worrying he's gonna try to pick me up in his teeth by the back of my neck. Dayn slips his huge arms underneath me, but brings me past a comfortable lower torso spot for the bridal carry up to his chin, and inhales deeply. Taking advantage of the proximity, I manage the effort to take a deep breath and smell the earthy scent of the forest after rain, and a hint of - not vanilla, but, maybe... a toasted vanilla? Charred Cherrywood? I can't quite put my finger on it, but it smells like a forest after rain with distinctly manly notes. It smells like... the kind of forest I want to get lost in with Dayn, like everything is right with the world, like safety, like comfort, like... perfect.

Dayn carries me toward the nest and gently removes the bathrobe he'd dressed me in for the meal, and lays me down on the soft floor of the nest, and soon joins me, after stripping himself. My skin is burning again with the need to be held, something I've never felt before, like my skin itself is missing. Dayn, obliging, slides in place like a puzzle piece around me, careful to avoid any of my bandages. "You smell like happiness", he rumbles quietly. I smile and relax into the warm strength holding me close, my iron lids beginning to flutter closed. My last sight is Dayn bringing his face close, and last feeling is his surprisingly soft lips against mine.