Heat trickled through Sean, along his nerve endings and deep down into his groin, causing a surprising and embarrassing reaction, one Sean knew what it meant, but he'd never had such a reaction to another person. A blush spread over his cheeks and he thought he saw mirth dance through light hazel eyes flecked with gold before being buried beneath concern and sympathy. "Wh-Who are you?" Sean whispered.
The stranger released him and stepped back, flexing his fingers slightly. "I am Declan Page, alpha of the Royal Taiga Streak. I believe you are the one who saved my nephew Ronnie."
Sean immediately became more alert and fired off several questions. "Is he all right? Where are the others? Tara? Sam? Vicky? Fredrick and Tomas?"
Declan chuckled and hooked his foot around the leg of a chair nearby, dragging it closer to sit. "Ronnie is perfectly fine. He's resilient, my nephew. The others are as okay as can be expected. Samantha, Tara, and Vicky are downstairs with my sister Rose. Fredrick and Tomas are actually with their family now. Their parents are part of my streak. They want to thank you for taking care of them as soon as you are well."
Sean couldn't believe it. They'd found Fredrick and Tomas's home, too. Tears stung Sean's eyes and he rubbed at them with one hand, the one not with the wrist in a cast. That was when he noticed he wasn't as badly broken as he'd anticipated. Frowning, he looked at Declan. "What happened? How am I still alive?"
Declan glanced away, not meeting Sean's gaze.
"Please tell me, sir. What happened to my-my father?" He stumbled over the words. He figured he already knew the answer, but needed to hear it out loud.
Declan's mouth firmed and Sean noticed the way Declan's fingers tightened on the handles of the chair until they were white. "He's dead."
Sean figured his father had to be. It was the only way he'd have let any of them get away. A ghost of a sad smile flitted over Sean's lips. "I see."
The world would not mourn the loss of a man like Carl McNeely. Sean couldn't bring himself to feel anything about the death of his father other than numbness. "May I see Sam and the others? Please?"
"Of course. You don’t need to ask, but don’t move from this bed. Your injuries were quite severe and you are still healing. I think it would be a good idea for you to shift as soon as you are able." Declan stood. "Then we will see about removing that collar. I attempted to remove it, but there is no clasp and nothing would cut through it. I've never seen such a device before."
Sean reached up to touch the collar, not bothering to tell Declan he didn't even know if he could shift. He'd never done it, and wasn't even sure if his animal half could be called on after never having shifted. Over the years, he'd dreamt of running through tall grasses, forests, and trees, but always through the eyes of his beast, never able to see what his spirit half was. "I don't know if that is possible, sir."
Declan surprised him when he suddenly pressed close to him, mouth so close to his own, both hands shoved deep into the pillow on either side of his head. "Declan."
"I'm sorry?" Sean pulled back a bit, mouth parted on a sharp intake of air. His heart beat fast and furious at his ribcage, a nervous fluttering of wings.
"My name is Declan, never sir. Not to you. Declan or Dec."
The man's breath whispered over Sean's lips, sending the same spiraling heat down to Sean's belly and he swallowed hard. "O-Okay."
"Say it," Declan growled.
"D-Declan," Sean murmured, licking his suddenly dry lips.
Declan rumbled low in his throat, muttered something too low for Sean to understand, and wrenched away, storming out of the room. Sean stared after him wide-eyed. What had he done to upset the man? Had he gone from one bad situation to another? Was this Alpha Declan as unpredictable as his father had been? The idea left a sour taste in his mouth and Sean's stomach twisted in his belly. Sean rubbed at the area with his uninjured arm.
He wondered how long he'd been unconscious as he took stock of his body. A cast encased his wrist while he was bruised in many other places and a swathing of bandages around his chest, but he could have sworn his father had broken his arm and at least one leg. He'd never healed so fast before. How was it possible he wasn't in an entire body cast practically? For that matter, he shouldn't even have been alive. His bladder chose that moment to protest, badly, distracting him from thinking about his health condition. Sean spotted an open door leading into an adjoined bathroom and moved gingerly, wincing as his body objected, but his bladder didn't give him the choice of remaining in bed as Declan wanted him to. When his foot met carpeting so soft, so amazingly plush, Sean sighed, envious of anyone living with such luxury after lying on the cold damp cement for almost two decades, then berated himself for having any such thoughts.
Rolling his eyes, he clung to one of the wooden four posters and eyed the distance to the doorway, wondering if he could make it without falling. When his stomach cramped again, Sean knew he had to try or he'd make an even bigger fool of himself. So, taking a deep breath, he let go of the bed and took a tentative step. He let out said breath when, though wobbly, his legs seemed to hold him. Of course, luck wasn't on his side though because he'd only made it half way when Declan returned, scaring the crap out of him, thankfully not literally!
4
Declan
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Declan raged the moment he opened the door and spied Sean on his feet. He'd left to go downstairs to retrieve the girls for his mate, knowing Sean required the familiarity and to assure himself they were indeed all right. But Declan had also needed to put some space between them before he'd done something stupid himself, like kissing Sean before the man was ready to accept him. Declan scowled and stomped into the room, sweeping Sean up into his arms.
Sean squeaked in surprise, gripping Declan's shoulders. Declan ignored the two girls behind him standing in the hallway staring. He started toward the bed with his mate only to stop when Sean shook his head. "I-I need to use the bathroom," Sean mumbled, clearly embarrassed.
Declan grunted. "You should have told me."
Red dusted the thin ridges of Sean's cheekbones, causing tenderness to soften the set line of Declan's mouth, and he turned back toward the bathroom, carefully setting Sean on the top of the toilet seat. "Do you need me to help you?" Declan asked.
"No! Uh... no. I can manage on my own," Sean muttered, not meeting Declan's gaze.
"I'll be right outside if you need me. Call me when you're done."
Sean nodded, still not looking at Declan. Declan exited the bathroom, closing the door, but leaned against the wall just to the left, and waited for Sean to finish. The moment he'd seen the bright sapphire blue of his mate's good eye he'd been fascinated with the color. He could only imagine how beautiful they'd be sparkling with happiness. It was hard to tell just how exquisite Sean was with all the bruising, but Declan just knew Sean would be breathtaking underneath the purples and blues covering his skin. After Declan had managed to rinse the blood from Sean's almost shoulder-length hair the other night, he'd found the strands were a rich mahogany brown, so deep and gorgeous Declan had been unable to keep from running his fingers through the softness every chance he'd gotten. It was crudely cut, as though done with a blunt knife, and considering the state of the basement and the living conditions Sean had been found in, Declan had no doubt they'd had to resort to using one of the kitchen knives to do it.