Twenty Six year old Blake Hunter is the Alpha of the largest pack in the region. Finding his mate is the last thing on his mind.
But, in the midst of dealing with uninvited relations, aspiring future Lunas and increasing rogue attacks on his easter...
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The figure in the bed stirred restlessly, the damp sheets clinging to his fever-wracked body and tightening their hold on his arms and legs.
His companion - close to the bed and engrossed in a mountain of paperwork - paused half-way down a page and looked up. Two tired eyes watching the unconscious struggle. Reaching toward the slumbering figure, he pulled the covers down a little, freeing his friend from the sheet's constraints.
The arms ceased fighting for freedom and the figure's strained features relaxed; sinking deeper into his slumber. Blake wondered which part of their collective nightmare the Beta's dream had dragged him this time.
Without warning, Marcus woke with a jolt; his face twisting into a grimace as his still-healing muscles competed to complain about the sudden movement. He scanned the room with wild eyes, before settling back against the damp, sweat-soaked pillow.
"How are you feeling?" the Alpha asked from his makeshift office - two plastic chairs surrounded by an untidy pile of files and reports. He ran one hand through his tousled black hair, and threw the file he'd been rummaging through down on the floor with a satisfying thud.
"Better than you, by the looks of things," Marcus quipped lightly, rubbing at his eyes. "Did you go home at all last night?"
"I got a couple of hours..." Blake nodded towards one of the other beds - the crumpled sheets evidence of a night spent tossing and turning, rather than sleeping peacefully. They were a well-matched pair, it seemed.
Marcus groaned and tried to sit up. Blake leaned forward and pushed him back against the pillows. With a carefully orchestrated combination of antidotes and his wolf's superior healing, the poison had been steadily leeching out of the Beta's system. But it left Marcus with aching muscles, cramps and a steady fever that plastered the thin hospital sheets to his body every night.
"Rest," he ordered his friend firmly, and called for a nurse over the pack-link.
"You didn't actually have to stay!" Marcus protested weakly, clearly mortified his Alpha had taken his mate's orders literally. Despite his rapid recovery, it took an inhumane effort to persuade Ophelia to leave the hospital every night and she conceded defeat only after she had extracted a promise from someone to stay by her mate's side until she returned.
"I didn't mind," Blake murmured, his lips twitching.
The door to the ward opened and a nurse bustled in, fresh bed sheets in her hands and a no-nonsense expression on her face.
"Besides," Blake continued as he moved out of her way. "Ophelia remembers that sort of thing... if she found out I left you alone, she might poison my food next time I come for dinner."
"Which would still be a far kinder fate than some of the things she threatened to do to me while you were out of it." Alex's voice slid through the open doorway, followed by the man himself - his arms loaded with so many bags and packages that his head was hidden from view.
