Pain gripped Sam. From his head down to his toes. Why was Mik here? Of all wolves to be by his side, why did it have to be him?
"No."
"Go away," Sam repeated more forcefully, but still sounded feeble and weak.
"No fucking way," Mik said in a low voice that rumbled on the edges.
Sam tried to swallow but sandpaper lined his mouth and esophagus, scraping against the burning coal of emotions lodged in his throat. He cracked his eyes open, still struggling to focus on the male next to him in the bright light. His vision blurred under the heavy lids. Something was off about him, he couldn't tell what.
"I'll get you some water," Mik mumbled.
Sam felt his arm move. Saw the blur of it shift, moving away from Mik's form to his side. A squeeze to his hand. The ripples of electricity fired off drawing a gasp into his lungs from the sensation of it before the current was lost as Mik pulled away and walked out of the room.
An emptiness filled him as the fire pulsing through his veins ebbed and vanished. He pulled more air into his lungs as he turned his head to look around but couldn't. Lifting his hand to rub his eyes, his arm felt unbelievably heavy. Sucking air into his lungs, he tried to muster his strength but the best he could do was lift his arm and lay it across his stomach. Blinking his eyes, the room slowly came into focus. The backroom of the infirmary. He heard the heart monitor behind him matching the beat of his heart in his chest. Why was he here? Why did he feel so weak?
Closing his eyes, he let the air out of his lungs as memories flashed behind his lids. Mik's head in the crook of a female's neck. Her arms and legs wrapped around his torso. He gasped, his eyes flying open when he saw himself falling from the cliff overlooking the waves and rocks below.
Chest heaving, lungs expanding and contracting with each deep exchange, he looked down at his feet—a lump under the blankets at the foot of the bed. His eyes came into focus, snaking up his body under the blanket and stopping at his arm draped across his stomach. The one that surged with fire and electricity moments before. The one that was so heavy he could barely lift it.
The door opened and a male with lean muscle walked in with a glass of water and straw in hand. Eloise and Heather tried to peek inside before the male closed the door. Mik's delicious scent wafted in and over him.
But then... the room itself was filled with Mik's scent. Every corner and crevice was saturated in his heavenly musk that raised the hairs on Sam's arm.
Or was it because of the male staring back at him that raised the hairs on his arm?
His hair was buzzed short, maybe a third of an inch long, blond, with a week or two old scruff lining his chin and cheeks. Rich brown eyes held his as he stepped to Sam's side and held the glass of water before him and put the straw to his lips.
"Drink."
The command, deep-throated and masculine, caused a shiver to creep up Sam's spine. He didn't refuse, eagerly accepting the water he offered. Pulling it up through the straw, Sam closed his eyes with a sigh as the cold fluid slid over his rough tongue and down his parched throat. He drank and drank until he sucked up air with a sputtering noise.
Sighing, he released the straw and relaxed against the bed. He didn't want to open his eyes again. Didn't want to face this male that smelled like Mik, sounded like Mik, but didn't look like Mik.
"Sam?" he asked after a moment's pause. Was there a hint of nervousness? Sam inhaled Mik's scent, revealing all.
"Go away."
YOU ARE READING
The Defiant Claim (The Claim: Book 2) LGBT
Werewolf[COMPLETE] Revenge drove him. Bloodlust raged in his veins. All 22-year-old Mik (Mikwam) wanted was to reclaim his birthright and destroy the alpha that took it from him. He never expected to find his mate within the pack of his enemy -- nor was he...
