When his mate had pulled away, his wolf had turned on the smaller man and demanded his submission. When Nicky had offered his throat, he was able to relax a little, though his heart was still racing. He actually didn’t remember much of what happened next, but this morning when he awoke next to Nicky, his legs over his, and his hand holding his cock, he’d been surprised and a bit horrified. What had he done? He’d vowed never to take advantage of Nicky again—never to hurt him again. How could he have interfered as he did the night before? They had tried this and it didn’t work. No one could have tried harder than Nicky, and he would not hurt him again.

Still, he had to wonder if Nicky would give him another chance. Seeing him with Tate had shaken him badly, and he was very afraid Nicky had moved on in his mind. He wanted Nicky back, but what if Nicky wouldn’t have him now? He’d made love to him, but there was something missing—something sad and lonely and almost desperate in his face.

Confused and conflicted, only knowing he couldn’t leave Nicky again, because he simply wouldn’t have the strength, he got up and got dressed, leaving Nicky asleep in his bed. He needed to see Dr. Cornsilk again and have him explain it all to him one more time. He wanted the bloodmatch back, not because he needed it particularly. He was in love with Nicky, bloodmatch or no bloodmatch, and nothing would keep them apart again if he could help it. He knew that now. But he missed the closeness of the mind link, and he was furious that it had been taken from them.

Regardless, he would do whatever it took, live whatever life Nicky would give him to be with Nicky, and nothing else mattered. The last three weeks without him had been torturous, catching only an occasional glimpse of him as he went about his business during the day. He’d noticed how pale he was in those rare glimpses, how much weight he’d lost, and he yearned to take care of him. He’d hoped he’d come to him for blood, but he went to Rory instead, preferring his blood to Marco’s, and Marco had been shocked at how much that had hurt. He hated himself more each day for dissolving their union, and he was determined to get Nicky back, in any capacity he would allow.

He went downstairs and directly to one of the trucks outside to drive into town. He needed to talk to Dr. Cornsilk, and try to settle his mind. He drove directly to the hospital and was happy to see the doctor’s car in the parking lot. He ran up the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator and went straight to his office. Cornsilk was sitting at his desk, working on something on the computer when Marco entered. He glanced up at him in surprise.

“Marco. What are you doing here so early? Are you all right? Has something happened?”

Marco strode over to his desk and leaned across it. “You have to help me, Doc, before it’s too late.”

He heard someone behind him and glanced back sharply to see Dr. Tate again, lounging against the doorframe like he had the last time he’d come to this office. Did the damn man just hang out in the halls and wait for him? Marco almost growled at him, but the doctor smiled a bitter little smile at him.

“Forget it, Marco. It’s already too late. ‘Like the base Indian who threw a pearl away that was worth half his tribe…’ That’s a quote from the play Othello, Marco, a favorite of mine. You’re probably too damn dumb to know that, but it reminds me of you. Perfect, really. You threw Nicky away like he was garbage when I would have done anything to have him. Funny thing, though, he didn’t want me. He was too much in love with you. I called him this morning to check on him after you interrupted us last night. He told me he didn’t love me and never would. He said he was miserable living at the lodge, and seeing you everywhere he looked. So congratulations, you stupid werewolf bastard. Nicky’s gone. He’s left you and me both and said he wouldn’t tell anyone where he was going.”

Chapter Seven

Nicky looked out of the grimy window of the bus and let his head rest against the pane. He was tired and hungry, and thought he might get off at the next town he came to and find a place to eat and a place to sleep for a while. Before he left that morning, Logan had made him take money, though he hadn’t wanted to at the time.

“Take it, Nicky,” Logan had said, pressing a roll of hundred dollar bills in his hand. “I got it from Ian’s drawer—it’s pack money, and they owe you.”

“No, Logan, I don’t want anything from Marco. I just want to get out of here and never look back.”

“Fuck that. He owes it to you, and a lot more. I only wish I could talk you out of this. Can’t you just wait and talk to him? There must be some explanation for his leaving you this morning after what happened last night.”

“Oh, I know the explanation. I was a booty call for him, no more, no less. His fucking ego is so big, he couldn’t stand the thought of Jeremy Tate taking something away from him. Then this morning when he thought about it, he had to take off before I got any ideas about the arrangement being permanent.” Nicky shook his head. “No, there’s no way I can stay here, Logan. Not with the way I feel. I’m too angry, too hurt. I wouldn’t be able to hide it, and it would disrupt the pack. I have a lot of friends in the pack, and I won’t stay here and cause that kind of emotional turmoil for everyone.”

“Stop worrying about everybody else. You know what will happen if you don’t drink blood from a wolf, Nicky. You’ll suffer…”

“Like I wouldn’t suffer if I stayed here? The more I think about what Marco has done to us…how he tossed me aside like I was nothing. Especially after last night—I hate him, Logan. I really do.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

Nicky turned a flushed face toward Logan. “Does it really matter? I have to get away from him. I can’t stay here and watch him take up with someone else, while he denies me the same privilege. I won’t.”

Logan had driven him to the bus station at the foot of the mountain, and he had gotten on the first bus pulling out, which happened to be heading for Nashville, but he had gotten off once they stopped in the town of Franklin, only thirty miles away, to take on more passengers. He knew Ian would be able to get it out of Logan as to which bus he’d taken, so he decided to change buses in the small town. The first one out led to Georgia, the next state over, though this bus stopped in Gainesville, a fairly large town north of Atlanta, still in the foothills of the Appalachian mountains. Gainesville, Nicky remembered was not too far from where his friend Gabe lived, with his alpha mate, Zack.

He remembered Gabe telling him a story once about how he and Zack first met. Gabe had been a feral pet, having been bitten by a rogue wolf who had attacked him and his mother at a lonely roadside rest center. His mother had been killed in the attack and Gabe turned into a feral creature. He’d lived that way for over a year, turning into a vicious wolf-like creature at the full moon. That’s what happened when a bitten human didn’t take blood from a wolf. That’s what would happen to Nicky soon.

Gabe had traveled from town to town, living the life of a nomad, and going out to the woods, way up high away from popular trails when the sickness would come on him at the full moon. Nicky considered the idea of going up into the mountains very carefully. It would be difficult for anyone to find him up there if anyone was looking. Marco might, out of some sense of misguided responsibility. He refused to be a burden, a dependent that Marco kept around on sufferance in case he needed an outlet for his sexual needs. Fuck that.

If he had to turn feral, then he would. No big deal—he could face it if Gabe had. He was a man and would face whatever he had to. It still beat the hell out of living like some half-ass mistress of Marco’s, his fuck toy. When he’d awakened that morning and found himself alone after spending the night in Marco’s bed, he had known he had to leave. The crushing disappointment would kill him next time. For a little while, he’d been able to fool himself, to think that maybe, just maybe, Marco was having second thoughts. To awake and find the bed cold and empty beside him told him everything he’d needed to know.

Maybe he would buy himself a tent and a few supplies and make his way up to the Georgia mountains for the next full moon. The next one was coming up in a week or so, and he might be facing the change. It had been a while since he’d fed from Rory and he hadn’t taken much then. Besides, the blood from a non-mate was never as potent as that of a mate. Yes, he would more than likely turn at this full moon, and he needed to be far away from people when he did. Nicky knew enough to know that the pain would be terrible, even killing. Some people didn’t survive it.

He didn’t much care whether he did or not, really. And if he died, then his body would be in the high, wild places he loved so well now. Maybe one day the wolves would come across his remains and devour him utterly, even to the marrow of his bones. He smiled to himself at the melodramatic turn his thoughts were taking him, but in a way, it really would be altogether fitting. It had a nice closure to it, a kind of symbolism. Yeah, maybe a tent and some supplies. He’d see about it tomorrow when he’d had a chance to rest.

Gabe climbed up in Zack’s big, heavy-duty pickup and settled himself in the seat with a sigh. He was on his way down the mountain to hang up missing person flyers for his friend Nicky, who had vanished, seemingly without a trace, almost three months before. Zack had been in close contact with the other friends he had at Nicky’s old home, and they told him how frantic and desperate Marco had been since Nicky went missing, how upset the entire pack was becoming over Nicky’s continued absence. Logan, in particular, felt guilty at having driven him down to the bus station, though Gabe knew how insistent Nicky could be when he wanted something.

Still, he was heartsick at the thought of how desperate Nicky must have been to have left, and he knew only too well what he was going through if he was still alive.

His mind turned away from the thought that Nicky might be dead. He wouldn’t believe it. Nicky was strong, and he’d be able to survive the feral change, just like Gabe had done. He hadn’t had the heart to tell Marco the entire truth, though, when he’d questioned him after Nicky left a few weeks earlier about exactly what happened during the change. One look at the misery on his handsome face, and he couldn’t tell him how painful it had really been, how much he wished he could die to get away from the near constant pain in his gut, even after the change was over. Gabe had done some heavy drinking and some drugs too, to try to ease that pain. Not to mention having lots of indiscriminate sex with whomever he happened to pick up in the bars he frequented. He assumed Nicky would do the same, and had tried to steer them all in that direction. Look in the bars, he’d told them—it was probably where Nicky would be found.