Brendan stood shakily, not wanting to leave the feral.

  Oren, another one of his Omega friends, smiled encouragingly at him. Oren was usually the jokester in the group, but right then, it seemed he was just attempting to get Brendan to put one foot in front of the other.

  As Brendan walked away, he heard the feral lose it again, and Brendan made an attempt to go back to him but not before Knox, another one of his friends and an Alpha, grabbed him and pulled him away.

  “No! No!” Brendan fought like crazy. It was no use; he was too small against the large Alpha.

  “We're just going to get some answers, Brendan. Calm down.” Knox tried to reason with him and got a hold of his arms to keep him from swinging.

  Hearing the feral snarling, Brendan was beyond reason. He didn’t stop putting up a fight until they were in front of the Elder Lewis's office, which had a whole team of guards inside.

  Rayce was in the corner of the office, shirt off and ribs taped. Colin’s brother Peyton, who had been walking with them, ran over to check on him.

  “What the…” Peyton reached for Rayce, but the guard pulled back.

  “I’m fine. Go with your brother.” Rayce was firm, and by the look on Peyton’s face, Brendan thought he may have taken the words hard.

  Peyton was young, at just nineteen, and the guard had treated him as such in front of a crowd of people. For someone who wouldn’t let anyone near Peyton before the last full moon, this was a huge switch for Rayce. What had changed?

  Peyton glared at the guard before walking over to stand next to Colin, who didn’t look pleased at the tone Rayce had used with his brother.

  “Elder Lewis?” Brendan stepped forward, and all eyes turned toward him.

  Elder Lewis eyed him with sympathy. “Sit, Brendan. We need to talk. We can debrief more later and go over the changes taking place, gentlemen. Keep questioning the other residents and see if anyone can identify him.”

  The guards walked out, leaving Brendan and his friends alone with Elder Lewis.

  Brendan began to shake as he sat. He didn’t want to be there; he wanted to be with the feral.

  “Malach informed me of the incidents that happened when the feral came into the compound this morning and your reaction to him, Brendan.” Elder Lewis stood before the large glass window, his arms crossed.

  Brendan nodded. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say, and Elder Lewis had always intimidated him to the point that he was constantly tongue-tied around the man. Pretty much all the Elders, the guards and the alphas. Hell, thinking of the list, freakin' everyone intimidates me. Terrific.

  “You know what this means?” Elder Lewis's eyes seemed to see his inner thoughts.

  Brendan cleared his throat. “Colin thinks he’s my mate, sir.” Brendan would have given anything for his voice to be strong and sure at that moment, but it failed him miserably, coming out shaky at best.

  “Malach and I think that as well. That’s why your emotions are already involved even if you don’t know the feral yet. You two are bonded, and the feral needs you now. You may not know him, but your mating instinct is to care for him. What do you know about ferals?” Elder Lewis walked around his desk and sat in the large leather chair next to Brendan.

  “Not much, sir. Just that…they’re wild,” Brendan muttered.

  “I’m going to be perfectly honest with you. You need to know the facts. Can you handle that?”

  “Yes,” Brendan croaked.

  “A feral is a shifter that didn’t handle their first shift well. In fact, it went terribly wrong. Somehow, their mind broke during the shift and sanity was lost. We’ve have a few here, but there are more at other compounds. You know your shift is painful, and there are some wolves out there that mentally break during their first shift. It’s not as common as it used to be. We have classes, prepping and you have tools to help you before and after, but sometimes, that isn’t enough. Currently, we have no information on the feral that arrived today. We don’t know who his parents are, how old he is, what pack he came from or even how many shifts he’s gone through. I’ve been calling around and haven’t any answers yet.” Elder Lewis paused, waiting.

  Brendan nodded for him to proceed.

  “A feral’s life is short. They don’t have the mental strength to control their shift during the full moon, so rage consumes. When the full moon passes, their human side is mentally broken to the point that they are wild but can’t shift. You need to have the ability to focus to shift during non-full moons, leaving them vulnerable in the wild to hellhound attacks.” Elder Lewis clasped his hands.

  “You see, too much happens, they injure themselves, seizures, stroke, a number of things can happen, but the point is—you need to prepare.” Elder Lewis leaned forward in his seat.

  If Brendan’s friends were in the room, he didn’t hear so much as a peep out of them.

  “Prepare?”

  “Brendan…there is no way to cure a feral. You need to prepare, because you’re eventually going to lose him. A few months at the most is all you have. I’m not sure how long he’s been on his own but it’s a miracle he survived by himself.”

  Shock hit Brendan hard. He didn’t know the feral, but the physical blow of the harsh words would have sent Brendan to his knees if he hadn’t been sitting.

  Then, all his pain seemed to crest. A keening cry rose up out of Brendan. What the fuck? How could Elder Lewis say this to me?

  Cruel. There were no other words for it. To find your mate, only to realize you were going to lose him was the cruelest form of fate that Brendan could imagine.

  Brendan lost track of what was going on until Dalton stood before him, his best friend and fellow Omega. Somehow, Brendan was out of his chair, back to the corner of Elder Lewis’ office, tears tracking down his face.

  Dalton’s thumbs swiped the tears. “Come on, Bren. Breathe. You can do it.”

  Brendan tried to get a lungful of air only to find his whole body had gone into shutdown. Nothing cooperated.

  His vision blurred, and he barely made out the image of Malach behind Dalton.

  “Breathe, dammit.”

  The words were harsh, and Malach stared daggers at him, but the command from the guard was enough for him to suck in a lungful of air. Then another.

  “Why? Why!” Brendan screamed at Dalton.

  Dalton grabbed him and held him tight, and they both fell in a pile in the corner of the office.

  “I don’t know, Bren, but we are gonna help you every step of the way. You hear me? You’re not alone.” Dalton began to rock him, and Brendan felt utterly broken.

  After a time, still shocked, he stood and walked out of the office without a word. He made his way down the stone hallways until he found himself back at the feral’s cell. Staring at the man inside, he couldn’t believe how hearing the fate of this man affected him like it did. He didn’t know him, but Brendan’s very soul hurt at the fate this man had been given. He couldn’t even think how he was tied to it.

  Resolve hit him hard. He was going to lose this man, but he was going to be with him every second until he was gone. This man was not going to suffer alone. The least Brendan could do was be with him every second to soothe the journey as best he could. Breath hitching, he ran to his room and grabbed a stack of books and threw them on the new mattress. Pulling up the edges, Brendan wedged the mattress through the doors and dragged it down the hall to the front of the feral’s cell. Sitting on the mattress, he grabbed a book and opened it, quickly glancing up at the feral who was staring back at him with lost gray eyes.

  Brendan glanced down and blew out a breath. “Chapter one.”

  Chapter Three

  Upon waking up, the feral tried to put together his thoughts. It appeared sanity was in reach. What was his name?

  Pain. Where was he?

  Reason was slipping. Who is the man sleeping on the other side of the barred door?

  Please let me keep the madness at bay for a little longer. He tried to call out to the handsome man, but a harsh growl slipped from his throat.

  He’s mine.

  Madness.

  * * * *

  Brendan startled awake as the feral on the other side lost control, screaming and tearing up the mattress inside. Scrambling up, Brendan approached the bars as the feral clawed at the mattress, causing pieces to fly into the air.

  The feral stood and turned, gray eyes predatory as they pierced Brendan.

  His breath quickened as he stood frozen in place. The feral was there in less than a second, reaching for him, when a hand shot out and pulled him back.

  “What the fuck, Bren. You know better. You’ve been here for a week. You know you can’t approach the bars,” Dalton shouted at him.

  “I…” Brendan didn’t know what to say. He felt like he was losing his own sanity.

  Slumping back onto his mattress, he scrubbed a hand over his dirty hair.

  “You need a shower and to eat.” Dalton stood before him.

  “But…”

  “No. Don’t even start on the I can’t leave him bullshit. I’m sick of hearing it. You’re wasting away in front of these bars. You haven’t eaten or showered. You need to take better care of yourself.”

  “I’m not leaving him,” Brendan gritted out.

  “Too fucking bad. You are if I have to drag your ass out of here. You will shower, and you will have a hot meal.” Dalton made a grab for him.

  “Don’t try to handle me, Dalton.” Brendan got in his friend's face, the feral growling menacingly on the other side of the cell. They were upsetting the feral and that was making Brendan more pissed off about his friend pulling this stunt.

  “I need to. Someone needs to step in and take care of you. You aren’t thinking of yourself, and you’re wasting away. I won’t stand by and watch it anymore!” Dalton yelled back commandingly.

  Brendan glanced over at the feral. He was gripping the bars, staring at him. Brendan knew he wasn’t taking care of himself. He hated this. The situation was out of his control.

  “C’mon, Bren. Let’s get a shower and a quick bite, then you can come back here. We’re all worried about you. Please, let us take care of you when you can’t.” Dalton held out his hand.

  Looking over his shoulder, Brendan saw Colin, Sloan and Oren.

  “Okay.” Brendan gave in. He turned, staring at the feral. “I’ll be right back. Okay?”

  Nothing. No acknowledgement that the feral understood. If only Brendan knew his name. He walked back to his cell, Dalton next to him. He went straight into the cubby of a bathroom that each cell contained. Big enough to take care of his needs but easy enough to seal up when in lockdown during the full moon. He stripped and turned the water on, not caring if it was hot or cold, then stepped into the spray. Cold water sluiced his skin, and he cleaned, washing his hair and body, doing everything mechanically. He was thin to begin with, but staring down, the sight of his ribs beginning to show through his skin made him frown. It had only been a week? What had I eaten? Nothing substantial, for sure. Shrugging, uncaring, he finished up. Stepping out, Oren stood holding out a towel.

  Brendan grabbed it, muttering a “Thanks.”

  Oren was another one of his friends who had yet to go through his shift. He still had a couple months, but the Omega had a laissez-faire approach to it, so he wasn’t sure if his friend was nervous or not. He was the spitfire of the group, and Oren was good at always making Brendan laugh. Now, Oren stood there, gazing at him in concern.

  “Bren, you want company tonight when you sit with him? I’ll pull out my mattress, and we can sit together.” Oren grabbed his towel and began rubbing Bren’s brown hair vigorously.

  Brendan didn’t have it in him to protest and just stood there while Oren grabbed a pair of jeans and t-shirt for him. He dressed without saying a word to Oren, not answering his question. He wasn’t sure if he wanted company or not. It hurt too much to even make decisions right now.

  Oren led him out of his cell, friends waiting for them. Staring at each one, concern in each friend's eyes, he felt overwhelmed. He didn’t want them to worry about him. Hell, he always wanted to fly under the radar, go unnoticed in this place.

  Hand trembling, he reached out for Oren. “You’ll stay with me tonight?”

  “I will.” Oren grasped his hand, sure and firm.

  Brendan took in a quivering breath as he walked with his friends to the cafeteria. Brendan couldn’t help but notice they took the long way, avoiding his feral’s cell. Upon entering, the smell of breakfast wafted toward him. He knew he needed to eat but couldn’t help but feel nauseous as a large plate of bacon went by.

  They walked into the buffet area, and Oren grabbed two plates while Brendan stood lost in his own thoughts, trying to keep his feet planted so that he didn’t turn and run back to the feral.

  “This way, Bren,” Oren guided him by the elbow to a table where Dalton, Sloan and Colin were already sitting.

  Brendan plopped down, picked up his fork and pushed his food around as his friends talked around him. He tried to pick up the conversation, hearing a few snippets of words, but his thoughts kept pulling him away from the table and down the hall.

  He was about to give up and go back when he heard Colin speak. “I saw the doctor this morning, and they’re not sure what the effects will be for me shifting so early. Sloan’s blood kick started my shift, but they just don’t know if something will happen long term.”

  “I’m sure you’re going to be fine.” Sloan rubbed Colin’s back before leaning over and giving him a soft kiss.

  Brendan could hear the fear in Sloan’s voice, but there was something more. A puzzle that stood before him, but he couldn’t see the whole picture.

  “What do you mean Sloan’s blood kick-started your shift?” Brendan asked.

  Heads turned, looking surprised that Brendan actually spoke up. He didn’t care.

  Colin glanced at everyone before answering, “Sloan’s shifter blood caused me to shift early, bringing my wolf to the surface. They had heard of it happening before, but it’s rare. So rare and so long ago, they had to test me to see if there were any side effects to it. They haven’t found any yet except it woke my wolf up.”

  “But how?” Brendan furrowed his brow.

  “We think it had to do with us being mates and exchanging blood.”

  Brendan nodded, and the conversation switched, but he couldn’t let this go. If a mate’s blood could kick start a pre-shifter into changing early, bring a wolf to the surface, what could my mate blood, specifically my Omega blood, do to a feral? Omegas were known to bring a pack to unity. Could my blood draw the feral from madness? Would I have to take in the feral’s blood to make the mating complete? Would it hurt to try? Would it even make any difference?

  Pushing his food around, he thought that this was stretching it a bit. That his heart was reaching for a cure where one didn’t exist. But really, could it hurt? And if it did, would it matter anyway since I am going to lose my mate? A mate who I never got to know, hold or even touch. Sorrow filled him at the thought that he never really had the feral. He had a horrific picture that he could only gaze upon as his heart was ripped to shreds.

  Determination filled Brendan. He didn’t want that future, hated the thought of that future with a passion that filled him with an inner rage that knew no bounds.

  Brendan stood, pushed back his chair and ran out of the cafeteria, straight to his feral. The cell was destroyed. There was nothing left of the mattress except tattered remains. His feral was heaving, out of breath, centered on the destruction he caused. Sweat coated his muscular chest, and his gray eyes were wild and unfocused.

  Brendan approached the bars and clasped them. He swiftly glanced to the side, watching a guard down the hall as he walked away from them, but he would soon be turning and coming back in their direction, which would stop what he was about to do.

  A growl ripped into the air, and Brendan’s eyes widened at the feral who was just on the other side of the bars. He had moved so fast that Brendan hadn’t even tracked him.

  Extending his arm through the cell bars, Brendan murmured, “Bite.”

  The feral growled as he yanked on his arm. His shoulder strained under the pressure, but the feral made no move to bite him.

  “Bite!” Brendan commanded, and the feral struck his wrist.

  Unbelievable pain coursed through Brendan’s body, and he let out a silent scream. He tried to pull away, but the feral was so damn strong, it was utterly useless. Dots appeared in his vision, and he thought he might just pass out. In the background, he could hear a shout.

  The feral finally pulled back, crimson blood running down his chin to dribble on his chest. An insane roar filled the entire cell, and Brendan tried one more time to pull away. Gray eyes flashed, staring right into his own gaze, and then, a large, muscular arm shot out of the bars, gripping him by the back of the head.

  His forehead smacked against the bars, causing another flash of pain and his eyes to tear up. Through blurry tears, he watched the feral savagely bite into his own wrist; Brendan was sure it was to the bone. Before he could do anything, the wrist was shoved through the bars and into his mouth.

  Choking and trying to get away, Brendan gagged as coppery blood flowed into his mouth. Another triumphant roar filled the air, and Brendan was forced to swallow.

  Shouts filled the air, and Brendan felt several people surrounding him. One tried to pull him away, and Brendan felt the feral jerk before hearing the sound of a connecting punch right next to his ear. More hands grabbed a hold of him, and finally, he was set free.

  Brendan stumbled to the ground, wiping the blood that covered his face. He stared back in horror at the feral. What have I done?

  The feral reached out for him, screaming…more human now? Brendan looked up into the wild gray eyes, and he saw something…different. There was recognition. He recognized him.

  Brendan clambered up, trying to get back to the bars.

  “Brendan, what the hell is wrong with you? Stop!” Malach yelled.

 

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