Chapter Three

Sean had long since stopped being able to hear the women’s cries. Ants had stung him everywhere and his ears were no doubt swollen shut, much as his eyes were. He’d screamed until his throat was raw, then coughed and gagged as ants had climbed into his mouth. The awful things had stung him repeatedly when he’d closed his mouth and chewed, and they tasted horrible, but the idea of them crawling down his throat had been worse than anything else he could think of.

His neck was past sore from shaking his head. Soon he wouldn’t even have the strength to do that, and then the ants would crawl wherever they could and he couldn’t think about that, not when he knew it was inevitable.

If he could just shift—but he couldn’t any more than Rosemary or Michelle could.

Stretched out like this, it was impossible for the bones, tendons and muscles to contort and bend as they needed to in order to free their wolves.

Sean’s wolf had gone oddly quiet moments ago. It scared him horribly and made him feel even more alone. Was this how it happened? Would his wolf die first, abandon the human body that was failing minute by minute?

Would he die utterly alone, despite the women beside him?

He couldn’t hear them, see them, scent them, not anymore, but they were there. Weren’t they? Or had they somehow managed to free themselves, and they, too had left him alone?

Sean couldn’t find it in him to care. He hoped they did escape, even if that left him by himself. They didn’t deserve what Joshua had done to them, none of it, from the physical abuse, the rapes, the mind games and verbal attacks, and certainly not this, being staked to the ground, waiting to see what killed them first.

The sun was surely sucking away every bit of liquid in his body. Probably if anyone ever found it and cared to check, they’d find red sand in his veins.

Maybe that’s how this whole place got that red colour to it. Spilled blood, from Indians and cowboys and everyone in between, their blood had soaked through the ground, through the rocks and coated it, RENDERED

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stained it red. Sean let his thoughts ramble on, dimly aware they were off in a way he should have been concerned about.

It was hard to give a shit, considering. He shook his head hard enough to make sparks ignite behind his closed lids, then Sean let himself slip further away from reality.

* * * *

Alex had to slow down even though everything inside him was screaming at him to runrunrun! He couldn’t risk barrelling into an ambush, and would rather die than need to be rescued by his sister or any of the rest of the guard. As much as his wolf fought him over it, Alex crept closer to where he could see the buzzards in the sky. His stomach turned inside out, tried it’s best to hop right up his throat when he saw the three figures on the ground.

Slinking closer, he tested the air. The scents of Joshua Dobson and most of his pack was faint, so they were likely several miles away now, but that wasn’t what made Alex freeze in place. It was that other, familiar scent, the one that had been up until then, tangled with Joshua’s, or muffled by it, to be exact. Alex could smell it now, and he whimpered, stunned then furious.

He tried to ignore the way his insides warmed and tingled, the way his cock filled and pushed out of its sheath. No! Not him! Not that man, not ever!

How could the Fates do this to him— why would they do this to him? Even

if by some miracle Sean Dobson was innocent of Joshua’s cowardly attempt to dethrone Marcus Criswell, he was still a fucking Dobson and Alex wanted no part of any of them, unless it involved sinking his teeth into their jugulars.

Except, even as he thought that, the bite turned to something else, something wicked and hot, a possession and marking of the sweet flesh of his mate. And it would be sweet, the attraction between them would assure it. Alex wouldn’t find anyone else who’d ever compare to his mate—and that was exactly what Sean Dobson was to him, his destined mate.

I’ll find some way to fight it, to break the hold mates have over each other.

Or I’ll fucking throw myself off a damn cliff. It didn’t occur to him to harm Sean; even an unwanted, traitorous mate was still more important than his own life. Alex hated it that he couldn’t do anything to change it, couldn’t shove these feelings out of himself and piss on them where they landed.

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He didn’t want Sean Dobson, and knew his wolf, his body, was going to fight him on it—and he likely wouldn’t be able to hold out for long.

Death would be better, more honourable, at least. Alex snarled, his wolf was clearly pissed at that idea, but the human in him wouldn’t give on the matter. Alex didn’t want a Dobson for his mate. Death before dishonour and all that. The saying certainly fit in this case.

A whimper slapped him out of his brooding. One of the women made the sound again, then she screamed and set every hair on Alex’s body on end.

The agony in her voice shattered his anger, replacing it with a wellspring of sympathy as he charged forward and saw what he hadn’t before.

Ants, big, red ones, were scrambling all over the first woman, and likely the other two forms staked out past her. Alex shifted quickly, his hands

changing from paws even as he reached for the knots or the rope binding the woman’s wrists to the stake. As his hand brushed against her forearm, she opened her eyes. The pale blue irises nearly vanished as her pupils dilated. The scent of fear nearly overwhelmed him, and she opened her mouth and screamed, that same ear-drum splitting scream from moments ago.

“Shh, let me help you,” Alex rasped, unable to hate the poor woman just because she was a member of Dobson’s pack. There were too many odours assaulting his sense, and one of them in particular was threatening to make his hands shake. The need to get to his mate pounded through his veins.

Alex snarled as he worked the knot, then found his gaze reluctantly lifting, sliding over the second woman who appeared to be unconscious, further past to the thin man several feet from her.

Closer to the ant bed, because he was nearly covered with the things.

Bruises marred his skin; his left arm was slightly crooked, like it was swollen or something, maybe recovering from a bad break right about the centre of the guy’s forearm. His features were distorted, bloated, from being bitten or stung, both maybe as there were so many ants. There were so many on the man. It dawned on Alex that that was because he’d been placed nearest to the ant bed.

Alex had no more control of himself. It was as if he was suddenly possessed. He snapped the rope in half then leapt over the first woman to free the next. In seconds he was moving again, kneeling at his mate’s side.

Desperately he swiped at the man’s skin, knocking RENDERED

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off ants only to have to repeat the gesture again and again. Sean’s body was covered with bites and red stinging demons.

How much can a shifter take, how much poison is in each sting, how many stings has he suffered? How badly has he been hurt before being left here to die? The questions spun around in Alex’s head as he battled the ants with one hand. The fact that the man hadn’t moved, hadn’t made a sound terrified him even as he acknowledged his death would solve the problem of how to get rid of an unwanted mate.

Still, Alex worked, one hand going to the rope at Sean’s left wrist, the other always swiping, moving, ignoring the painful bites. How has the man stood it? Alex couldn’t imagine what he’d suffered, the fear and agony that he must have felt.

The rope loosened and Alex stopped fighting the ants long enough to gently free the shifter’s hand. The break in the arm looked bad; maybe it would heal if…if Sean survived.

His heart ached at the thought Sean might not make it, and Alex, angry with himself and emotions and the goddamned Fates, reached over for the rope that bound the other wrist.

By the time he’d worked all Sean’s limbs free, Alex was covered with a fair amount of bites himself. He ignored them and knocked more ants off the shifter then slid his arms under his battered body. If he wasn’t as gentle as he could have been, it was only because he was trying to hurry and get Sean away from the ants. The barest growth of strawberry blond hair on the man’s head, which Alex had failed to notice in his frantic attempt to save Sean, confirmed in his mind just who he was holding.

So yeah, fuck it all, his mate was Joshua Dobson’s brother. But, if Sean survived this, he probably wouldn’t want Alex any more than Alex wanted him. After all, not many guys would be happy to discover their mate had been fucked by their brother.

Alex carried Sean over to an area shaded by a rocky overhang several feet above their heads and tried to get the rest of the ants off him. He cringed, his own balls and cock shrivelling as he worked the nasty fuckers out of those crevices. Sean was swollen there, as well as just about everywhere

else. Once Alex thought he’d got all the ants off, he picked Sean up and moved him to another shady patch.

After laying him down, Alex lowered his head and pressed his ear to Sean’s chest. His heartbeat sounded slow and faint, which said a lot considering a shifter’s enhanced hearing.

Alex sat back on his heels and couldn’t resist placing his hand where his head had been.

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Despite his conflicting emotions, he didn’t want Sean to die. He could tell himself it was because he wanted information on Joshua, because he wanted to see Sean punished, but none of it rang true. This man was his mate, and that alone was enough reason for Alex to want him to live.

There was a mental link between mates, one Alex would have shied away from if the situation hadn’t been so dire. As it was, his wolf and man agreed that now was the time to try to utilise that link. Pressing his hand to Sean’s chest, Alex closed his eyes and shoved through his own prejudices against Sean. “Live, Sean. Fight. Don’t let Joshua win this time.”

Alex wanted to say more, wanted not to ever use this fucking link again, and wanted to tear Joshua Dobson apart, limb from limb. Instead he lifted his hand and stood, then turned and went to work getting the two women moved into another small patch of shade.

* * * *

“Live, Sean. Fight. Don’t let Joshua win this time.” The words speared through the happy place Sean’s mind had retreated to, one he’d discovered when he was a boy being beaten by his brother. Sean could go there, lose himself from reality in his mind and be unreachable—

and yet, those words penetrated his alternate reality like a cannonball shattering a window pane.

“I don’t want to. Just leave me alone and let me go.” Sean didn’t know why he was arguing with a voice in his head, but he wanted it to stay the fuck out of there and let him get back to that place where he didn’t hurt any more. He couldn’t bear the agony that seared every nerve in his body, couldn’t stand the even worse pain of knowing his brother had done this to him.

The worst was being abandoned, left for the hunter—

The hunter! Sean tried topen his eyes without success. His mind raced with possibilities—maybe he was hallucinating, maybe he hadn’t really heard that voice, maybe it was all just the worst nightmare in the world! Maybe—

“No. Stop. This is real, I’m real, and you should know what it means to hear me like this!”

But Sean didn’t, couldn’t think past his panic and pain. Not being able to open his eyes or hear, having to struggle for each breath to get past his swollen throat, none of those were conducive to rational thought. When there was nothing else from the voice in his head, Sean RENDERED

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didn’t reply. There’d been enough force in that statement that Sean wouldn’t dare argue back.

Joshua had beaten the backbone right out of him, and Sean knew it, accepted it. He let his mind drift and forgot about the weird occurrence as the pain ceased to exist in his alternate world.

* * * *

Adrenalin and the need to tend his mate made freeing the two women easier than it would have been under other circumstances. Alex noted both females were in menses and wondered if Joshua had used them to add more confusion to the scents. It had nearly overpowered Alex at first, the strong metallic odour carrying heavily in the air. But it didn’t matter why Dobson had done it, only that he had, showing his twisted sadistic psyche with the act.

Assured the women would survive as they had neither the bruising nor number of ant bites Sean had, Alex left them propped in the shade, their backs resting against the hard rock.

He should have done the same with Sean, in case he’d had trouble breathing or something.

Alex reached out with their link and a surge of panic made his knees weak when he couldn’t feel his mate. He hadn’t exactly felt him when he’d used the link the first time, had just assumed the man would hear, but now…

Alex was at Sean’s side in seconds, running his hands all over that bruised body before finally settling one over Sean’s heart and the other over his parted lips. He pressed harder on Sean’s chest when at first he didn’t feel anything, but then, just there, the slight thump-thump of Sean’s heart and the light puff of shaky breath let Alex know he hadn’t died.

Now that he’d freed the women, Alex took several minutes to look at his mate. He couldn’t make out much of Sean’s features, nor the true build of his body, although he looked as if he was barely fed enough to keep him alive. Every inch of Sean’s skin was bright red or bruised; the sun had cooked his exposed skin until it burned under Alex’s palms.

Carefully, he raised Sean’s torso and peered over his shoulder. Bruises and bites covered Sean’s back, but that wasn’t the worst of it. What caused the moan to slip past Alex’s lips were the numerous silvery scars that striped Sean’s back in a cross-hatch pattern.

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Only one thing he knew of left scars on a shifter, and that was datura, a plant that was toxic to them. How Sean had the stuff applied in such symmetrical patterns confused Alex until he realised the marks looked like those left by a whip. Alex and his family had been a part of the same pack as the Dobson’s up until Marcus had taken over. Alex remembered well seeing Randall Dobson, Sean and Joshua’s father—who’d also been the Alpha Anax at the time—having his older son apply the whip to almost anyone who fell into Randall’s disfavour.

A severe beating would cut through skin and muscles, clear to the bone. It was a horrible sight to see, but shifters healed—unless, as he suspected, Joshua applied datura over the wounds, scarring Sean’s skin permanently.

Rage like no other he’d ever experienced blinded Alex as he thought of the pain Sean had suffered, the humiliation of being scarred when shifters didn’t do so otherwise. Alex might not want the man to be his mate, but the instincts that were an integral part of him railed against Sean experiencing such abuse. His howl rent the air as he held Sean to his chest.

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