The cell doors opened, and Ripley charged across the hallway to Brendan’s room.

  Brendan was up and moving around with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth while he was folding clothes.

  Ripley stopped dead in his tracks to observe Brendan work on that toothbrush like it was a lollipop in his mouth. Turned on, he went to start where they left off in meditation yesterday only to have Brendan’s friends charge through the door.

  Ripley was really beginning to like all these guys, but couldn’t they come back in fifteen minutes?

  “We’re going out today. Malach okayed it for us.” Oren hopped on the bed, and Ripley felt like jerking him off of it. That was Brendan’s bed, and he didn’t belong on it. What the hell? When did I start acting like Brendan couldn’t even be around his friends without having me growl at them? Ripley took a deep breath and rolled his neck. Damn, Oren was right; he could use a dose of fresh air.

  Brendan ran into the bathroom and came back out, toothbrush free. “Who’s going?”

  Dalton sat next to Oren, and Ripley flexed his hands. “All of us: Colin, Sloan, Knox, Oren, Peyton and a whole team of guards.”

  “Guards?” Brendan raised a brow.

  “Yeah, Brendan, guards. They want you two to get out because you’ve been cooped up and are hoping it’ll help, but if it doesn’t…”

  Dalton didn’t need to go on. Turning, Ripley glanced at several guards hanging outside and waiting for them. Each and every one of them had a tranq gun and cattle prod attached at the hip. Damn, his memory was coming back in tiny pieces. He remembered the cattle prods. They hurt like hell.

  The group walked out, flanked by an eight-guard team. Some Ripley recognized like Malach, Lukas and Rayce, but others were new faces. However, they all looked at him like they expected him to come after them at any moment. He might get fresh air, but the rest was going to get old fast. His feral blood loathed being targeted, and Ripley had the feeling this was going to be a fail.

  Ripley was ready to turn back and just go in when he felt Brendan’s hand slide into his as they exited the front doors. The sun hit him, and cool, crisp air blew across his face. Brendan had a soft smile on his face as they walked down the trail. Yep, he would suffer through whatever just to see Brendan content.

  Moon Compound was huge, but even Ripley could see the guard towers and the high-voltage fences in the distance.

  This was his first time getting a look at the place, and he was in complete awe of its size and beauty. They must have some people associated with the government pretty high up to keep this place a secret. Or maybe the shifters had helped the humans out enough that those who knew about shifters felt that this was a small price to pay compared to the debt owed.

  For his size, Ripley suddenly felt small. He felt like he went through life with a blindfold, and now that it was off, he was unsure if he didn’t want the damn thing back on. Squeezing Brendan’s hand as they walked with the group, he decided that it was worth it.

  Brendan was becoming important to him, and it felt, even though they had this pull for one another, right that they were getting to know each other. He needed something solid and firm to hold onto in this world he had been thrust into, and Brendan had been there every step of the way.

  “This feels so good,” Brendan moaned as he stared up at the sky.

  Ripley chuckled. “You love the outdoors?”

  “I do. My pack isn’t too far from here. In northern Michigan, and we used to spend all our time hiking and fishing. I spent all my time outside to the point where I used to camp outside at night with my younger brother, Whitley. He’ll be coming in a couple years, we’re two years apart.” Brendan sighed.

  “You and your brother are close.” Ripley stated. He could just tell by the way Brendan mentioned him that the two were tight.

  “Very. I’m one of the few that hope I’m still here when he comes so I can help him out.” Brendan frowned at the ground and so did Ripley.

  They weren’t sure what was going to happen to them. Ripley, while lucid and sane, still felt that feral blood course through him, and Brendan had mentioned more than once how his skin crawled. He didn’t seem as deep into the rage, but it hovered and surrounded Brendan like a cloak.

  Guilt swamped Ripley, feeling that this was entirely his fault that Brendan was in the state he was because he saved Ripley. While Ripley would forever be grateful, he would always feel that he somehow did wrong by his mate.

  The group found a spot to sit in shorter grass, and Oren and Dalton pulled sandwiches and bottled waters out of bags they were carrying.

  Ripley was starting to feel at peace with the surrounding and the light banter going on with the group.

  Oren was cracking jokes, the flirt of the group. Colin and Sloan sat close to each other, clearly displaying their mating was a love match and giving Ripley hope for his mating with Brendan.

  Scooting closer to Brendan, he wanted to feel the heat of the man’s leg while they sat there. Yeah, it was nothing much, but just the slightest touch seemed to calm Ripley and gave him hope that there could be more.

  Guards stood around, relaxed and talking to one another, clearly viewing Ripley as a non-threat at the moment. The tension seemed to ease from the group as they ate and enjoyed the beautiful day.

  Ripley was about to bite into his sandwich when something felt…off. Instinct took over, and Ripley sniffed the air, sensing something.

  When he shot to his feet, guards became on alert. Not to their surrounding but to Ripley.

  He was about to tell them what he felt when a pack of massive black dogs came out of the nearby woods and slowly surrounded them. There had to be twenty or more.

  “Hellhounds,” Peyton whispered before clambering to his feet and carefully walking over to Rayce who jerked the young man behind him.

  Ripley's breathing quickened, and he reached for Brendan.

  Brendan stood next to him, gripping him at his arm until Brendan’s nails pierced the flesh.

  The hellhounds continued to circle them, and Ripley felt the threat pumping the blood faster through his veins. His vision became hazy as he waited.

  One shifted and stood in his demon form before them. Fuck! Ripley knew that guy, had seen him many times before.

  The guy gave a sick smile that never reached his soulless eyes. Apparently, he was also the leader since the hellhounds stood waiting for his order while studying the group.

  Ripley could sense them working on tactics of who to take down first, who to get to, who to kill.

  There was no noise, no signal, the hellhounds just attacked.

  Malach electrocuted the first one that charged them with a cattle prod, but the group was fast. It wasn't long before the whole pack of hellhounds was on them.

  All Ripley could think of was to protect Brendan, keep him safe. Dear gods, please let us get out of here with our lives. A hellhound crashed into him, biting deep into his flesh. With a roar, Ripley saw red, and a savage instinct took over. His blood pounded, and he went after the nearest hellhound, complete destruction on his mind.

  * * * *

  Oren tried to duck out of the way, knowing he was no match against the hellhounds. He stood in the middle of the guards with Dalton and Peyton as the others fought, feeling weak for not being able to help in any way.

  A roar filled the air, and Oren turned to see Ripley go fucking crazy on a hellhound. His arm was bleeding heavily, but that was nothing compared to the way he decapitated the hellhound with his bare hands.

  Brendan growled and went after a hellhound. His Omega friend’s eyes were wild as he fought blow for blow against the large dogs. No way should he have been able to do that.

  The two were completely feral, reminding Oren of a berserker rage as they tore the hellhounds to pieces, literally, relishing in the blood spilled on them.

  Hellhounds were breaking through the center, and Dalton yelled to one of the guards, “Shift and give us the guns and prods!”

  Several hellhounds whipped their large, beastly heads at Dalton’s command. One threw his head back and released a bone-jarring growl into the air.

  The guard immediately threw his weapon at Dalton before shifting to fight in his wolf form. Two other guards followed suit, and Oren scrambled to pick up the cattle prod. The ground was getting saturated with blood, and the growls and fighting were deafening to his ears.

  Oren ducked as a hellhound sprung at him in midair, and he juiced him up with the prod as the hellhound landed on him. The guy was stunned although not out, but it gave Oren enough time to shoot the tranq and dammit, miss!

  The hellhound turned around and stared at Oren, causing Oren to freeze on the spot. The hellhound's intense stare continued as the beast took a step forward.

  Oren took off running, and the hellhound gave chase. He knew this was a mistake, breaking away from everyone, but now, he had no choice with the hound hot on his heels. Suddenly, he heard footfalls behind him, and Oren glanced over his shoulder. He saw the hellhound was now in his demon form. Tan with black hair and eyes, the demon was gaining on him, and Oren turned away, trying to get his legs to move faster.

  It didn’t work. Oren felt the hellhound hit him in the back before landing on the hard ground. Crying out, he rolled, kicking and punching with everything he had in him. The hellhound had him pinned, and Oren looked up at the soulless eyes. The demon was terrifyingly beautiful, causing Oren to shiver in terror.

  Dammit, he didn’t want to go out this way. Being torn apart. There was so much he hadn’t experienced and wanted to.

  The hellhound continued his intense gaze before he struck.

  Oren screamed as the hellhound bit him in the shoulder all the way to the bone. White hot pain ignited through his body as he continued to silently scream in anguish. His body jackknifed off the ground, and the hellhound’s body pushed him back down. Whimpering, Oren could barely endure.

  The hellhound pulled back, Oren’s blood dripping from his chin. A soft groan came from the demon as if relishing the taste of the vital fluid. He brushed Oren’s jet black hair back as if in affection.

  Oren was too shocked, breathing heavily, feeling sick as the blood from his shoulder seeped into his shirt.

  “You need to run back,” the hellhound's guttural voice commanded.

  Oren barely understood the hellhound. The voice was distorted, deep.

  The hellhound picked him up and shoved him toward the compound, but Oren fell back to the ground, weak and afraid.

  The hellhound stepped over and picked him up roughly. “Go!”

  The hellhound turned, shifted and ran back into the fight. The fight where his friends were being hurt. Oren felt torn. What to do? Help…they needed help.

  Oren turned and tried to run back to the compound. He had a chance to get more guards to help his friends.

  Running, he began screaming for help as soon as he saw the guard towers. Alarms sounded, but Oren was still screaming for help and didn’t stop until he passed out at the base of the tower, unable to fight the darkness any longer.

  Chapter Eight

  “We need to keep the chains on him,” someone murmured through the thick dense fog.

  Brendan could hardly understand what was going on, and the synapses weren’t firing. His head was foggy, body numb and he decided to sleep more.

  “Bren…c’mon, Bren, can you hear me?” A voice above Brendan called him from the fog a second time.

  His eyes felt heavy. Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to open them. A moan escaped his dry lips.

  “That’s it. Ripley is right next to you and I’m here, buddy.” That voice. Dalton. That was Dalton.

  Awareness began to take hold of Brendan. His systems began booting up, and what parts were awake, he wished to hell would go back to sleep. His bones ached, and his muscles screamed in agony.

  Brendan groaned, trying to find a comfortable position since he was once again chained in place. Trying to get his mouth to work seemed impossible, so finally, he tried to work his lids open. The room seemed too bright as the fluorescent lights shone down upon him. Brendan winced, and his blurry vision faded again, the room going blessedly dark once more.

  “Ripley,” Brendan moaned.

  “He’s in the next bed over. He’s awake but getting checked out by Lachlan.” Dalton grabbed his hand, and Brendan hissed in pain.

  “What happened? Is everyone okay?” Brendan remembered the hellhounds surrounding them, Ripley being bit and then a crazed haze of distortion which was the fight. The fighting had been brutal, and though he remembered it all, it was like a deep, wild instinct took over to allow him to protect his mate and friends.

  Brendan’s vision was clearing up, and he glanced up at Dalton who shook his head. “We lost four guards, and there are several with injuries. You and Ripley…” Dalton swallowed before Elder Lewis came over and placed a hand on Dalton’s shoulder, squeezing.

  “Can I see Ripley?” Brendan asked.

  Elder Lewis came over and began removing the chains that held Brendan down. “You’ve been out for well over a day now, as has your mate. We had to run some tests, and we are going over some theories right now, but quite honestly, we don’t have a lot of answers at the moment. There hasn’t been a feral recovery and an Omega that has taken in feral blood like you have.”

  Brendan was sick of being in the dark. “What do you know, sir?” Brendan wanted to snap, growl, but deep down, he knew the Elder was just as new to this as he was.

  Malach stepped forward, a limp in his step. He slowly sat in a chair next to his bed. “I’ve never seen anything like what you and Ripley did out there. One moment, you're in the center, and the next, you were in full bloodlust in the fight. You were fighting hellhounds while hurt and still nothing seemed to faze you. Ripley was the same way only...” Malach swallowed before he continued, eyes haunted, “more. Much more. He was actually stronger than the hellhounds, taking sometimes two or three at a time.”

  Brendan glanced over at the bed to see Ripley stirring, legs moving restlessly, still chained. Is he okay? “Ripley?”

  Ripley groaned and opened his eyes before slowly turning his head. “You okay, Bren?”

  Brendan smiled even through the pain at the thought that his friends had rubbed off on Ripley enough that he was using their nickname for him. “I’m okay. Sore. You?”

  “Feel like I ran into a brick wall. Is everyone okay?” Ripley tried to sit up, feeling the resistance. “Mind unchaining me, please?”

  Malach leaned over and began removing the chains.

  “Every time I wake up, I’m in these. Fuck, I’m sore.” The chains came off, and Ripley sat up, crawling over to Brendan and pretty much falling on the bed.

  “We weren’t sure what state you would be in when you woke up. If you were in bloodlust still, we had to ensure everyone in here was safe. This is all new to us. In the meantime, we’ll watch you in here for a little bit; then, we can have you go back to your room and finish healing.” Lachlan approached and began checking Brendan over.

  “I knew him,” Ripley said, and the entire room went silent.

  “Who? The hellhound?” Elder Lewis stepped up next to Ripley.

  Brendan just stared at Ripley in shock.

  “He worked in Lansing. Not sure where, but after work, a group of us would go to this bar, and he was always there with a tableful of guys. Cocky, arrogant bastard. Yeah, I know him.”

  Elder Lewis stared at Malach as he came over. “Is he the one that got away?”

  Malach nodded. “One of them, yeah.”

  The room was silent for a few moments, and Brendan continued to stare at Ripley. Ripley just stared at him as others began to discuss what this could mean. Brendan bit his lip, trying to hold back any emotion. He could have lost Ripley.

  “Lachlan, can we have a moment, please?” Ripley’s voice was raspy as he gripped Brendan’s hand.

  The doctor looked over at Elder Lewis, who nodded, and in a matter of minutes, the entire area had cleared out and the curtain had been closed.

  Ripley looked down at him, hands shaking as they cupped Brendan’s cheek. “I was so scared you weren’t going to be okay.”

  “I’m fine. When I saw that hellhound hurt you…all I saw was red. From there, it was this wild instinct I’ve never experienced before. I just wanted to hurt the hellhounds, destroy them,” Brendan glanced down at Ripley’s arm, which was healing but still sported an ugly wound.

  Brendan glanced back up, and Ripley was inches from him, sweeping a long piece of hair out of his eyes. Leaning forward, Ripley gently placed his warm lips on his. Brendan's breath hitched, and he could feel the damn tears pool in his eyes. He hurt everywhere except where the soft, full lips touched his. Their first kiss since they met.

  Ripley leaned back, stroking his thumb over Brendan’s lower lip. “I just had to know.”

  “Know what?” Brendan whispered.

  “That you were alive. I can’t do anything right now. You’re hurt, I’m hurt, but if I could just have something that little…yeah, I just needed to know.” Ripley glanced down at the bed.

  Brendan's arms shook as they lifted to Ripley. They had a mind of their own, and his hand-and-eye coordination was for shit right then, but he wanted to assure Ripley. His hands touched Ripley's heated neck, moving onto the back of his head then pulling him down for another kiss. This one was just as gentle, just as soft, a gradual simmering burn that was the start of something special for the both of them. This was the beginning of their journey as one.

  They stayed the night in the infirmary. It wasn’t planned, but Lachlan wanted to make sure Brendan and Ripley were okay before they left to heal.

  Brendan glanced down at his body as he got ready to go back to his cell. There were so many injuries that he had no fucking clue how he had lived. He just remembered wanting to take everything out in his path, not even feeling any pain at all. Thank gods, he had already shifted, because even though they had to heal the old fashion way, nice and slow, shifter blood always helped speed it along.

 

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