Awake | Book 1 of the AWAKE Series | (BWWM)

Chapter Three

He hardly made any sound throughout the hour of me digging into his flesh with a pair of tweezers, just a low grumble here and there. I won’t lie and say the noise didn’t turn me on. I felt and still feel terrible that instead of fully focusing on fixing him my body had other ideas.
“My back,” he groans, finally able to make almost a full sentence.
I straddle his lap to get to his other side before I realize what I’m doing and the both of us stop and stare at each other. I feel his hand on the knee of my now blood covered scrubs. I go to lift off of him and his grip tightens slightly, urging me to stay exactly where I am.
“Mate,” I hear him whisper.
Mate? Is he English? I can’t make out an accent but then again everyone sounds American when they’re in pain, it’s the same with singing.
I give him a small smile and cross over his body to his left side.
“I’m just going to roll you over now okay?” I inform him and roll him onto his right arm.
I can see where a bullet grazed his back but didn’t hit, although it left traces of some substance in the cuts it left behind. I grab the Everclear again and physically see his body tense up, preparing for the pain coming next.
A few groans and a ripped pillow later and I have the substance, what I can only classify as silver, out of the cut and bandaged.
When I roll him back over I inform him that I’m going to call him a real ambulance since he’s starting to clot and it won’t be as dangerous to move him. He grabs my hand so fast and strong I have no choice but to sit back down on the bed.
“No…please,” he says sounding weak again.
I can see the urgency in his eyes and yet again I don’t listen to the intelligent side of my brain.
“Okay,” I finally agree, “At least let me get you comfortable.”
I start to move him to the head of the bed and with a bit of his help he’s there with little to no struggle on my part. I grab one of the clean sheets I brought in from the floor and cover him up with it.
“If you need anything just ask,” I tell him then point towards the couch, “I’ll be right over there.”
He nods once, still not speaking and then I see his eyes flutter closed.
I check his pulse once more before I go to the couch to get some sleep. His pulse was pretty strong. It seems my patient is already on the mend.

Karter

                After two hours of sleep I can feel myself healing. I tip toe out of bed and head to the kitchen to find something to eat. The more I eat, the faster I’ll heal. I make myself a sandwich as quietly as possible and walk back into the room my Angel is in to watch her sleep.
She looks so perfect with her hair all over her forehead, her plump lips slightly parted letting a little cooing sound escape as she snores.
When I first felt her touch I felt she was my mate but just one look into her hazel eyes and my assumption was confirmed. In that moment I knew I’d move heaven and earth to be with her, to be near her. I need her.
The way she took care of me tonight with no questions asked, that’s the sign of a genuinely good person, a true Luna.
For the first time in my life I feel like I can love a woman other than my mother and grandmother. I won’t let her get away from me, I can’t.

            I wake up wrapped up in her. It seems in our sleep our bodies couldn’t stay away from one another. Skillfully, I ease out of bed as to not frighten her and go to the porch to clean up the mess I made.
Afterwards I head to the kitchen to test out my cooking skills. I’m a little rusty but who can’t make scrambled eggs and frozen waffles. I hear her wake up but continue cooking as if I don’t.
I came to the conclusion last night that she has no idea that either of us are wolves, which means she damned sure doesn’t know we’re mates. Why or how she’s kept away from pack life this long boggles my mind but what matters now is that she’s here, with me.
The thought of that reminds me that I have a traitor in the midst and I immediately mind-link Grey.
“Jesus fucking Christ Karter everyone is panicking where are you?” he shouts.
I sigh and grab my Angel’s waffles from the toaster.
“I’m lying low, I’m sure you know I was attacked last night.” 
“Of course, that’s why everyone is freaking. Your mother is hysterical! Even your grandma is upset!”
“Let them know I’m okay, I won’t link them in case they think they’re going crazy and hearing voices.”
“I just did, they’re calm now but your mom wants you home. Your dad and Connor’s dad have called a pack meeting.”
I sigh and turn to the archway to see my Angel staring at me completely astonished. I need to end this conversation quickly.
“Tell them I’ll be there when I’m there,” I gripe cutting the link, suddenly very annoyed that this bullshit is interfering with my time with my mate.
“Hi,” I greet her sheepishly, turning to her with a plate of eggs and two waffles.
She grabs the plate and then sits down, rubbing her eyes as if they’re deceiving her.
“H-How are you up and walking around? Did you not alert your body that you got shot three times last night?”
It sounds like a joke so I laugh until I realize she’s dead serious.
I shrug and sit down with my own plate across from her, “I tolerate pain better than most.”
She still stares at me in disbelief, not touching her plate.
“Either eat that food or I’ll eat it for you. It’s very offensive not to at least try it,” I grumble, trying to con her.
It works, and without another word she digs in, not looking back up at me once.
I can see the wheels in her head turning so I interrupt, “So, you saved my life and I don’t even know your name.”
She looks up at me with those hazel eyes that make my pants tighten in the front and swallows the food in her mouth.
“D-Dylan…my name is Dylan.”
I smirk at her nervousness; no doubt she feels the pull between us too, lack of mate knowledge aside.
“That’s a pretty manly name for someone so feminine,” I tease, “What’s your middle name?”
She cuts her eyes at me at the remark about her name but let’s me slide, “Rose.”
I nod slowly and swallow the last bite from my now empty plate.
“Well that’s more like it. I think that’s what I’ll call you! What’s your last name Rose?”
She rolls her beautiful eyes and sits back with her arms folded, “Trevino. I think it’s about time I ask some questions too don’t you think?”
I smirk, “Well does that count? Because that was definitely a question.”
She smirks back at me making her right dimple show.
“It can if you want but it’s not going to stop me from asking anything else. So, full name? How did you find my house? How are you moving around so well? And who in the hell shot you?”
I crack my neck and sigh trying to form as many answers as I can without revealing too much.
She hasn’t been in the pack life this long for a reason and I’ll be damned if her new introduction into it is with my fucked up situation.
“Karter Dean Jarreau, I happened across it as I started to black out, I told you I handle pain well, and I don’t know.”
I’m proud I made it through her questions without lying. Even if I’m not telling the entire truth I don’t want to start lying, things always just snowball from there.
She looks as if she’s deep on thought before she hops up from her seat.
I just sit back and watch her as she makes her way over to me and reaches out to touch me before I pull back.
“I’m just going to check your wounds. Your bandages probably need to be changed.”
That’s exactly what I was afraid of. If she takes these bandages off she’ll see that I’m healed and that’ll open up an entirely new can of worms.
I quickly hop up and dodge her, “Nope. I think I should take you out and thank you properly for last night. If I recall I owe you a bottle of disgusting liquor and a shower curtain.”
She eyes me suspiciously but doesn’t push the issue. “You’re an odd bird Dean Jarreau,” she mumbles as she leaves the room.
“Dean?” I ask, trying to hide my satisfaction and amusement.
“If you can call me by my middle name I’m for damn sure calling you by yours.”
She continues to sashay out of the room and I call out after her, “Where are you going?”
Her angelic faces peaks around the archway and she answers, “To get dressed, you owe me liquor, a shower curtain, and sheets.” Before I can respond she’s gone.
I never agreed to buy any sheets.