The Arrangement (Omegas of Hunter's Point Book 1)

Chapter 29

Damian came back to himself slowly, exhausted, ravenously hungry, and in desperate need of a shower. His skin was crusted with sweat and what smelled suspiciously like the remnants of things best not thought too much about.

A rut.

He groaned, rubbing his palms over his face in an attempt to wake himself up. He looked over to see a sleeping Von, her bare back to him, her tangled hair fanned out on the pillow, and grinned. The details of the rut were fuzzy, but what he did remember was all Von: Von, her pupils beautifully blown, on her back, Von on her knees, Von straddling him, her moans and sighs alive in his brain. She'd been insatiable.

So had he been, he thought with a grin.

How long had they been out of it? He grabbed his phone from the night stand, swiping his finger across the screen to no effect. The battery was dead. Reaching down beside the bed, he retrieved his charging cable and connected it to his phone, causing the screen to light up immediately with notifications of texts, emails, and missed calls, four days' worth.

They'd been caught up in a mating high for four days? Yikes. No wonder he was starving.

Damian entered the code to his voicemail and found the voicemail box full with the final twenty or so being messages from his mother. They were all in the same vein. Where was he? Why wasn't he answering the phone? Why wasn't he at his office?

All of that could damn well wait until he'd bathed. Maybe Von would like to join him.

"Von?"

She didn't respond. She was likely just as exhausted as he was. He knew he should let her sleep, but...

He leaned across the bed and planted a kiss on her bare shoulder. "Wake up, my most perfect mate."

She didn't stir. No groan of disappointment at being woken up, no mumbled complaints.

He gently shook her shoulder. The skin beneath his hand was chilled and clammy. "Von?" He turned her on her back, and his breath caught. She was so pale. He placed a hand against her burning cheek. "Von, wake up. You're scaring me." It was then that he saw her inflamed claiming mark, discolored and swollen.

Uttering a curse, he snatched up his phone, and with shaking fingers, dialed the first number he could think of.

"Damian?" came his mother's irritated voice on the other end of the line. "You could have warned us all before you chose to fall off the face of the earth for a week."

His voice shook almost as hard as his hands did. "Mother, something's wrong with Von. She's burning up."

"Then you should be calling the emergency number, don't you think?"

The thought of others seeing his mate nude, of others' hands on her body, brought out a primordial rage that manifested as a subtle, but thundering growl.

Silence on the other end of the line, then, "I see. I'm sending my driver. He'll be there, shortly."

***

Von awoke fully dressed on a strange bed, groggy and disoriented. Her mind was hazy, her thoughts sluggish, and her desert-dry mouth tasted faintly of blood. She winced at the birdsong outside the window that sounded as if it were streaming through industrial amplifiers. The unusually bright sunlight seared the backs of her eyeballs, and even the colors of the bedding were somehow sharper.

In spite of the layers she was wearing, she was chilled. Her feet and hands were icy and numb. The only heat her body seemed to be producing was recessed behind her heart: a little flame that flickered and wavered, threatening to go out.

Von tried to lever herself up when she was blinded by a white flash of pain tinged red at the edges. She was hurt! How had she gotten hurt? The room reeked of alpha pheromone, slick and blood, the soreness between her legs leaving little doubt as to why. She must have been attacked. Why didn't she remember? And why had he bothered dressing her afterward?

The heavy steps of someone moving quickly through the unfamiliar room reached her ears. Her attacker...he must still be here! She'd likely walked in on a burglary. She needed to get out before he killed her, but the pain in her shoulder made her woozy and nauseous.

Damian knelt down beside the bed and filled her vision.

Her anxiety lifted. His scent was a salve. The little flame behind her heart burned a bit brighter. Worried turquoise eyes drank hers in as he wrapped her in a blanket, careful of jostling her wound.

"Wha's wrong w'me?" she asked, thickly. " 'm hurt."

Damian touched her face, tenderly. She leaned into his touch. "You're ill, Von. I don't know why. Don't be scared."

Okay, I won't, she thought. Besides, he was scared enough for the both of them.

"I'm going to take you to the hospital."

She resisted as he gathered her in his arms and lifted her from the bed. "No! 'S too espens've. Can' afford it."

"Don't you worry about that," he said.

Okay, I won't. She went limp, snuggling into his embrace.

Damian emerged on the street where a chauffeured vehicle waited. Cradling Von like a child, he settled in the back seat. "Gods' Love Hospital. Quickly."

Wow. A chauffeured ride and treatment at the rich people's hospital? So far, this was the best date she'd ever been on. She giggled at her own joke, disturbing her damaged shoulder, then whimpered.

"You're going to be okay," he murmured. He took her frozen hand and pressed it against his cheek. "I promise."

If you say so. She felt so safe with him he could be taking her to the lowest of the five hells, and she'd probably let him. At least then she'd be warm. She snorted.

Fatigue, all-encompassing, slammed into her like a train. She fought the closing of weighted eyelids.

"'M so tired," she murmured.

"Sleep," he told her, softly. We'll be at the hospital, soon."