Page 4 of In Their Arms

Maceo, from his spot on the couch, sighs. “I’m not an Alpha, sweetheart. And besides, I know you.” There’s a smirk in his voice. “It wouldn’t be impartial.”

“I don’t want anyone to watch me.”

Grayson nods, thumb brushing along my hip. “I know, babe, but it’s the rules. Without an impartial Alpha, it won’t work.”

I pout harder, rolling my hips just a little to feel how hard Grayson is against me, hoping maybe I can distract him into saying fuck the rules. It doesn’t work. “Can we have him come here?” I ask, hopeful that I won’t have to put on actual clothes or leave Blake’s side.

Grayson barks out a laugh. “Do you really want someone else near your nest?”

The horror of that thought makes my whole body go rigid. I shake my head, fast. “No.” I glance at Blake, curled up on the couch. His breathing is still too shallow, but he looks better than he has in hours. A soft sigh falls from my lips as I stare at him, my heart breaking just a little more. “Okay. But we’re not doing anything until we get Blake to the hospital.”

Blake makes a noise, low in his throat, like he’s already gearing up for an argument, but I cut him off. “No, don’t argue with me, Blake. You’re hurting, and it’s not just because our Alpha was taken from us.”

Grayson cuts in. “Luca, there’s nothing they can do—”

“No!” I crawl from my Alpha’s lap, twisting around to jab him in the chest. “I know there’s nothing we can do about it. That we just have to wait. That we just have to remove the stress but I want every last test done. I want them to check everything. I need to know that we’ve done absolutely everything possible to make him comfortable. It hurts, Alpha. It. Hurts.” I’ve mentioned it briefly before that I can feel Blake.

But unlike Luther, I can feel Blake’s pain the way he can feel mine. It isn’t just his emotions. It’s the way the demons plague his mind and his heart beats a little too fast and the way his body fights against his wishes. And I know for a fact that I’m only feeling a fraction of what he is. The tears I’ve been holding back for a while stream down my cheeks and I turn to face Blake, reaching for him, threading my fingers through his. His skin is too cool, his frantic expression softening now that we’re touching again. “Please, Bear.”

The name slips out before I can stop it.

Blake sucks in a sharp breath. His eyes go wide, lips parting just slightly, and for a second, it feels like we’ve slipped back in time. Back before everything went to shit. Back when he used to wrap himself around me like a teddy bear, keeping me safe from everything. His fingers tighten around mine as his eyes glaze over with unshed tears. “Luca,” he whispers.

I squeeze his hand. “Why won’t you just admit you’re in pain?”

And that’s when I feel it. Through the bond we have with Luther. The pain Blake’s been trying to hide. The raw, aching, gut-wrenching pain that’s been eating him alive. It rushes toward me like a freight train, stealing my breath, two guttural sounds coming from my other mates telling me that they feel it too.

I don’t waste any time rushing around, grabbing his shoes, and a coat because I’m not losing Blake. I’m not losing anyone else that I fucking care about. Not again. Never again.

3

Luther

The cot beneath me is little more than a slab of metal with a threadbare excuse for a mattress stretched over it. It offers no comfort, no reprieve from the cold pressing in from the damp stone walls. The chill seeps into my bones, curling around my spine, settling deep in the muscles of my back. I tilt my head against the wall, shutting my eyes for a moment, forcing myself to breathe through the suffocating weight of my bonds with my mates.

It’s chaos. A tangled mess of fear and fury thrumming through my veins. My instincts scream at me to act, to move, to fight, but from within this cell, there’s absolutely nothing I can do.

Luca’s heartbeat slams through the bond, erratic and sharp. His anxiety is thick, an electric current, his panic clawing at the edges of my mind. It’s suffocating. But it’s Blake who’s worse. He’s slipping, his presence in the bond slipping. It’s stretched too thin, the strain nearly unbearable, a thread fraying at the edges, ready to snap. Dread sinks into my stomach at the thought of what he must be suffering at this moment, my mind running through the worst possible scenarios.

Is it his heart? Is he breathing? Did they have to take him to the hospital again?

Worries settle in, even as I let out a heavy breath, curling my fingers into my palms until the skin burns. The frustration, the helplessness, it rips through me like a punishment I justly deserve. I can’t do a damn thing from here. That’s the worst part. That’s what twists the knife deeper.

I need an out, some way to speak with my family, some way to check in and know that everything is going to be alright. I know damn well that it won’t be for a long time but hearing their voices or at the very least hearing Maceo say that we’re going to get through this will be enough. I never thought he’d be someone I truly leaned on but after all this fuckery, I can’t imagine him anywhere else.

Leaning my head back against the wall, I clear my throat, hoping to draw some attention my way. Most of my time has been spent in and out of the interrogation room, Peyton shouting in my face or through the bars of this cell, demanding answers I don’t have. Sure, I broke the law by bonding Luca but other than that? I’ve done nothing wrong. This entire investigation was born out of a fragile man’s ego that’s going to crumble the moment justice takes its course.

However, I’m beginning to realize that justice isn’t the strongest force in this precinct. Connections are, ones I don’t have.Yet.

When no one answers me, I clear my throat again, running my fingers along the bars, the contact echoing in the dimly lit hallway. It’s only a few seconds before I get a response, heavy footsteps headed to my cell. I’m not surprised that it’s Peyton, the detective who’s dead set on ruining me. Whether it’s because he’s on Hudson’s payroll or because he’s a shit officer, I have no clue and it doesn’t matter.

“I need to speak with my lawyer,” I tell him.

Peyton snorts, gripping his belt and readjusting it like men puff out their chests, trying to show that they’re the bigger man. “You mean your Beta? Don’t bullshit me, Keller. I know a mate when I see one and that guy is not a lawyer.”

“Actually, Peyton, he’s both because unlike some people, he can multitask and he’s doing a damn good job of it. Now, I’ve asked for my lawyer and it’s your duty to fetch him like the dog you are.” The words come out too easily, irritation bleeding into my voice. I’m done playing the docile Alpha who’s been caught in a bad situation because that’s hardly what this is. Hudson abused Luca, tried to break him, snuff out the bit of sunshine that lives in his eyes.

And fuck if I’m going to let him finish the job.

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