Heartsblood (Dark Hollow Wolf Pack 10)

Jax nodded and slumped over farther, pushing his ass wantonly back for more. The gentle thrusts became harder, faster, until Cade was slamming into him, almost l

ifting him off his feet with each thrust. Jax put one hand against the tree and the other strayed down to his cock as he tried to stroke himself. Instantly, the big hand already there threw his off, and Cade’s voice growled in his ear. “This is mine.”

“Y-yours,” Jax said and heard a self-satisfied grunt in his ear.

“Forever.” Another hard thrust and a stroke on his cock and it was over for Jax. His cum shot against the tree so hard it spattered back on his stomach and chest. Cade’s thrusts became erratic and then he was straining against him, his own hot cum searing Jax’s ass.

In the short silence that followed, all Jax could hear were Cade’s panting breaths. Then with another quick nuzzle at his neck, he pulled out and Jax straightened up, holding onto the tree for support. He could hear rustling sounds as Cade straightened his clothes, and then the sound of a zipper.

Cade put his hands on Jax’s shoulders, pulled him around and turned him so his back was against the rough bark. He used his own T-shirt to tenderly wipe his mate. Leaning in, he kissed Jax, licking first at his lips until his mouth fell open and then he swept his sweet tongue inside. He moved a hand down to gently squeeze Jax’s softening dick. “Let’s go back, sweetheart,” he said against his lips. “Everything will be all right. I promise you.”

Jax nodded and reached down to pull up and fasten his pants. He took Cade’s hand as they walked slowly back to their place by the fire, but he knew that Cade’s words had no real meaning. He’d wanted to comfort Jax, and he loved Cade for it. But Cade had made him a promise that Jax didn’t think he’d be able to keep.

* * * *

Nicky refused to leave Marco, even when they took him into the small, brightly-lit room Tate was using for his surgery. Nicky had been given scrubs and a mask, along with gloves, and he stayed close to Marco’s side, watching everything that was done to him. Tate had been waiting for them in the hastily-prepared room and barely glanced at Nicky as he pulled back the sheet covering Marco and swabbed his entire stomach and along his lower chest and right side.

His hands poised over Marco with the scalpel, he finally looked up at Nicky. “These are a great deal less than ideal conditions, you know. If this was anyone but a wolf, this wouldn’t work at all. He’d die in the middle of the procedure, and I can’t make any guarantees as it is.”

Nicky nodded tersely. “He’s strong. I’ve given him as much blood as I can for now, and I’ll give him more later. He’ll make it.”

Tate raised an eyebrow, but bent back over Marco’s body. His gloved fingers palpated the wound gently for several minutes. “It’s in his liver,” Tate said, almost as if he were talking to himself. But then he glanced up at Nicky. “The bullet must not have hit any of the major blood vessels or he’d have already been dead, but he’s lost too much blood.”

Nicky nodded—he already knew that, for God’s sake. He didn’t see how anyone could have lost so much and still be alive. He didn’t know much about the liver other than the fact that it was necessary for survival. He squeezed Marco’s hand again, but Marco was deeply unconscious. Tate had given him something to put him under, and was giving him oxygen too. A shudder Nicky couldn’t prevent went through him at the thought that Marco was completely at Tate’s mercy. No, not his mercy, because Nicky doubted if Tate had any of that to spare. But at least he was operating and Marco was no longer in pain. That had to count for something.

“The liver also functions as a blood reservoir,” Tate was saying. “Think of it as storage, in a way. Large amounts can be stored in its blood vessels, and in the hepatic veins and sinuses. That would account for some of the blood you saw, though the larger veins seem to be intact.”

Nicky looked down at the incision Tate was making across the right side of Marco’s abdomen. There was a lot of bruising and swelling around the entire area, and now the blood from the wound welled out over the scalpel. Nicky focused on Marco’s face as Tate worked quickly and efficiently, speaking softly to an assistant beside Nicky, who was handing him items from a tray.

Nicky was acutely aware of Tate’s breathing behind his mask as he worked. It didn’t seem excited or stressed in any way, but then why should it? Tate had nothing to lose if his patient died on the table. Still he was working steadily and Nicky hoped, efficiently. He only wished he knew more about the procedure so he could tell if Tate was really doing everything he could. For Nicky the procedure was taking forever, though he knew that not that much time had passed.

Talking to himself again, Tate muttered half under his breath as he gently probed for the bullet. “It went in clean enough. All I have to do now is…ah, I have it.” His assistant passed him small forceps and he plucked the bullet from Marco’s body, depositing it with a small clatter on the tray beside Nicky. It wasn’t as large as Nicky would have thought and the end was blunted from its impact with Marco’s body.

Fresh blood had spurted when Tate pulled the bullet free, but it was slowing already as Tate worked to close the wound. The entire procedure had gone quickly enough, but Marco had lost a lot of blood and his face was still and white under the oxygen mask. Only a slight twitching of his eyelids let Nicky know he was still alive.

Tate worked steadily for what seemed to Nicky like a long time and then finally stopped and glanced across the table at Nicky. “It’s up to Marco now. I’ve kept my part of the bargain and done all I could. I hope you can acknowledge that.”

Nicky nodded and dropped his gaze back down to Marco’s face. If the bastard hadn’t shot Marco in the first place, none of this would have been necessary anyway, but Nicky pressed his lips tightly together to keep the words from tumbling out of his mouth. He still needed Tate to help Marco survive this.

“What about the…”

“If he survives the night, I’ll take the heartsblood tomorrow,” Tate cut in. “He’s lost enough blood for now.” He turned to his assistant. “Take him to the recovery area and keep the oxygen on him. I’ve given him antibiotics. We’ll have to wait and see how he does.” Tate strode out of the room without so much as a backward glance, and Nicky breathed a sigh of relief. The man’s very presence was oppressive, and he wanted to get Marco away from his influence, but he knew that Tate had been considered a brilliant surgeon when he worked at the hospital in Brevard. He only hoped he still was.

Nicky could feel his wolf stirring restlessly inside him, wanting to…what? Protect its mate? Had his wolf finally accepted Marco? Nicky couldn’t be sure.

He followed as Marco was removed to a nearby room and sat beside him quietly, watching his face for any sign of returning consciousness. Logan opened the door quietly and came to sit on the other side of Marco, both of them holding a quiet vigil. The next few hours would determine whether or not Marco would survive this thing. Until then, all Nicky could do was wait.

Chapter Eight

Ian walked disconsolately down the trail leading to the highway, followed more slowly by Cade and Casey. They’d been down this same trail ten or more times at least over the last three days since Logan, Marco and Nicky had gone missing, but they were at a loss as to what to do next, and already feared the worst. Ian wouldn’t allow himself to think he might have lost Logan. If he did, it might kill him, and for now, at least, he had to keep his focus on finding some clue they might have overlooked.

All three stiffened at the same time as they heard someone crashing down the trail toward them. Ian caught a whiff of humans and immediately crouched down in the bushes beside the trail to lie in wait for whoever was coming. They were at a bend in the trail, so couldn’t see much farther than a few feet ahead, but whoever was coming seemed to be running flat out and Ian tensed as he prepared to confront him.

Logan burst around the bend in the trail, dirty and disheveled, his face scratched by the underbrush and still the most beautiful thing that Ian had ever seen. Completely unable to prevent his actions and without a word, Ian leaped up and pulled Logan into his arms, pushing him to his back on the ground and falling protectively on top of him. He kissed him so hard he almost gagged Logan, letting him take a quick breath only to thrust his tongue back inside Logan’s mouth, all the while grinding his huge, hard cock against Logan’s body and running his hands down his sides. Finally becoming aware of the alphas behind him, who were pulling urgently at his arm, Ian raised his head breathlessly and looked down into Logan’s stunned eyes and then back up at the other wolves.

“Give him a chance to breathe, Ian,” Casey was yelling in his ear, but he could barely hear him over the roaring sounds. His heart was about to thump out of his chest, and he couldn’t seem to let go of Logan, but he did manage to roll off him and settle him firmly in his lap, wrapping both arms around him and burying his face in his neck. Logan was trembling almost as much as Ian and was making soothing sounds and trying to pat his chest.

Cade knelt beside them and leaned in toward Logan, being careful not to touch him until Ian calmed himself a bit. “Logan, thank God. Are you all right? Are you hurt anywhere?”