Saving Bennett Reid (Book 3)

The Mole (Part 3)

(Carter)

I was loving every bit of this. He was too and I knew that my raging boner only egged him on.

It was late into the night now and he'd been discharged. Medically cleared to head home but had been warned to consume mainly liquid and light foods- not that he'd do it- until at least twenty-four hours had passed. He'd also been instructed not to do anything strenuous and take lots of rest however, tonight, I don't think we'd be getting much rest.

There was a medical explanation for it but to be frank, I liked this affectionate side of him. He was bold and feisty, daring not to blush at promiscuous behavior that was completely unlike him. His affection was usually sweet and subtle, other times, teasing. But it was as though a hungry beast had suddenly been unleashed because for the last thirty minutes, we'd been rolling around in the sheets with some heavy touching and a lot of kissing involved.

The thin fabrics of our boxers were the only thing keeping us from being stark nude and while I wanted to cave, give in completely to the carnal desire and ravish him, he was injured. I'd been careful with holding him thus far, mindful not to brush my hand against any of his wounds or bruises. It was hot, but frustrating nonetheless because I couldn't throw him against the bed and completely ravish every inch of his body, making love to him for hours on end.

Sliding my hands down his sides and then across his back, he deepened the kiss, holding onto me tighter. His boner brushed against my abs and he rotated his hips so sweetly, grinding against my already hard cock that twitched under the attention. Palming his ass, he got an animalistic growl out of me when he suddenly bit down on my bottom lip, gently tugging on the soft flesh.

"I'm really loving this side of you."

Beehive chuckled, the sound deep and throaty, overcome with lust that easily doused the darkened bedroom. The light from the hallway and the streetlights outside cast a dim glow throughout the space, improving the ambiance and making him look all the more delectable, softly caressing his warm complexion sending his otherworldly allure through the roof.

"You heard what Lisa said." he commented, placing a kiss on my jawline, his fingers tracing the contoured muscles of my neck, down to my collarbone and then back up. "We won't be sleeping tonight." Dipping his head down, he captured my lips in a heated kiss that I returned with just as much passion, flipping us about so that instead of him straddling and driving me crazy with those sexy little hip movements and those sweet, seductive kisses, I was hovering over him.

His legs clamped down on my sides ensuring I didn't get away. Not that there was anywhere I'd rather be than in that exact spot at the time. He moved to place his arms around my neck, but I grabbed his wrists lightly pinning them on either side of his head. His gaze darkened considerably, his arousal growing in anticipation of what might happen next.

"You'll make me lose control." My voice came out in a gravelly growl, the predatory instincts to take and ravish him hovering dangerously close to the surface.

He smirked. "Good." Using the strength of his middle, he tossed me to the side, and I flopped, rolling onto my back as he came to rest against my hips, his ass rubbing against my cock through the underwear fabric. He leaned down over me until our faces were mere inches apart. "I need it."

"You're hurt. You need to rest."

"If you mark me again, I'll heal faster. Didn't you hear what Lisa said?"

How could I forget? Each word was like a ninja star to my gut confirming that Lisa's working theory about the wolfsbane compound and my mark wasn't just a theory. It had been deliberately administered there with the intention of completely neutralizing my hormones and enzymes. Strategically administered to ensure Beehive received a slow, painful death because his body would overwork itself and he might've succumbed to his injuries.

They'd bled him out, coupled with the poison, it weakened my hormones and enzymes basically burning it out. If Beehive was horny tonight, it wasn't intentional. It was beyond his control, his body naturally craving that which made it complete.

"I can't. You're in too much pain even if you act like it's nothing. You need to heal some more before we're able to do it again."

"Don't you want me to heal?" he replied, somewhat defiantly and more assertive. I sensed his frustration with me but whether it was the lacking hormones and enzymes, or his own frustration clashing with mine, I wasn't sure.

Sitting up and gently pushing him off my lap, I ran my hands through my hair. "I can renew the mark like we would an engagement. It would give you a large enough boost to heal faster but until those marks begin to fade..."

My words fell away as I glanced over to him, immediately locking onto the scars that marred his torso in ugly crisscross patterns. I breathed deeply, reaching out to gently touch my fingers against the raised skin on one of the older, healing gashes. Particularly, one he'd gotten during the Hunt when his bastard father practically attempted to disembowel him.

He clasped his hand over mine, linking our fingers together. I heard him sigh, and the mattress dipped as he scooted closer, linking his arm with mine and resting his head against my shoulder.

"As long as we've been together, you've never done anything to hurt me. I doubt this would be different."

"It isn't just about that, love." I stated, feeling him frown against my shoulder. "I can't look at you."

"Am I that hideous?" he queried in mock hurt, expression matching the teasing tone. A small smile graced my lips and I leaned closer to kiss his lips, one he returned ever so sweetly cupping the side of my face. He brushed his nose against mine and then placed a small kiss there. "They'll go away." He kissed my shoulder.

"I know." His fingertips danced over my lips as I spoke, tiny electrical signals zipping through my body at the innocent yet intimate contact. "Those injuries do nothing good for me. Seeing it, all I can think about is hunting those bastards down for hurting you."

His chin lightly pressed into my shoulder making me peek a glance over to find him smiling at me. "Well maybe you'll get to do that soon, I hope. But get in line. I have my own vendettas to fulfill."

Tipping my head, I gave him a sweet, lengthy kiss that I poured my feelings into. When next I moved away, my gaze immediately went to the mating marking that was somewhat nicely displayed on his shoulders.

The grayish hue that was residue from the poison was beginning to fade. By Lisa's medical expertise, she'd told us to expect him to throw up at least once more before the poison completely leaves his system. She said it shouldn't take more than twenty-four hours, but it would be helped along quickly if he had another dose of my hormones and enzymes flooding his system.

Tracing the pinkish imprints of my canines where I'd marked him, I weighed the pros and cons of consummating our bond again, noting well how he bit down on his lip to suppress a moan, his expression contorted in hot pleasure from the innocent contact that was in no way, sexual.

Would I be able to withstand seeing him in pain? Although it would not necessarily be of the bad kind, seeing him in so much discomfort was torture on my psyche. When he walked, it wasn't without a limp. He had problems lying down comfortably and thus, the only position he could find ease in was on his back. And even that was a struggle because of his injured right ear and then the few newer nicks on his left cheek.

No... I can't do that to him. I wouldn't be able to think about anything else but that anyway. It was best to wait a while despite the nagging instinct that said to mark him once again.

Maybe I can put it off until that poison has been completely flushed out of his system.

"I'll renew the mark. When you start moving around without pain, we'll consummate the bond a second time."

Beehive pouted, disappointed that I wouldn't cave. Usually, it wouldn't take much for me to get turned on and think up all of these hot, fantasy scenarios of taking him in different ways. And it would be so unlike me to pass on trying to be intimate or flirt when the opportunity presented itself.

As adorable as his pouting was, he complied nonetheless and shifted about until he was settled on my lap, once again straddling me. He carefully threw his arms around my shoulders, smiling down at me in a fashion that was teasing, seductive, confident, and sweet all at once.

How he managed? I didn't know but I loved it, and even more so that it had me caving by the bare minimum. It was impossible to resist him; and even injured, scarred up and recuperating, he didn't fail to make my heartbeat pound faster and harder, or my cock twitch in anticipation of feeling his ass rub against my crotch.

Perhaps he was secretly part incubus. He seduced me without putting up much of an effort; had me longing to feel his body rock in tandem with mine; made me long to touch and taste every inch of him.

So, I caved. Feeding the carnal desire that swept over me, giving it a small taste of what would come in hopefully, the near future.

My hands palmed his ass, traveling up over the smooth skin on the small of his back, and up the sharp muscle contours of his shoulders. He smirked smugly, brushing his nose against mine in a teasing manner that egged me on. My lips traced over his jawline and down the side of his neck. Unable to resist the sweet temptations of stealing a taste, I gently sucked on a spot at the center of his neck.

His body shuddered pleasurably, the pheromones of his arousal sweetening the scent of the room. He ran his fingers through my hair and tilted his head away accommodating and allowing me access to his neck. But I switched to his shoulder, and he rotated his hips as I lightly teased the mating mark on his shoulder. The soft gasps that fell from his lips begged me to take it further. And his rotating hips were not making my decision any easier as I my cock jumped from the attention.

Before I got too carried away and ended up taking him completely, I settled my grip around his waist. My canines lengthened, already aching with the need to renew the mark and reconnect the bond to its fullest. Beehive shuddered once more; soft, shaky moans of pleasure tumbling out as my canines brushed the mark.

He tugged on my hair, jolting me into action and my canines were buried in his shoulder a moment later. Beehive suddenly grunted, crying out softly as my enzymes and hormones flooded his system. His arousal reached its climax and he tightened his hold on me, knees clamping down on my sides as his toes curled.

Wiping away what little beads of blood escaped and trickled down his shoulder, my lips teased at the mark, his body tensing and relaxing beneath my touch. Shaky breaths rocked him as I cradled his neck and sucked on his sweet spot, his hips rotating once more.

Chuckling, I pushed my forehead to his, gently rubbing my hands along his sides, the electrical sparks that flew between us heightening my obsession with the beautiful contours of his abdominal muscles.

He felt perfect in my arms.

Better than Kelly, or any one guy or girl did.

"Am I that good?" I teased, giving his lips a quick peck. My question earned an irritated growl and deciding to tease him a little longer, I reached between us and brushed my palm over the bulge in his underwear, the material wet from his climax.

The wonders it did my ego, and my animal instincts were howling with giddy joy knowing I had this effect on him. That I could make him come so hard that he was left breathless from only renewing the mating mark.

Only I had control like this over his body, and that knowledge did things to me. It kicked that possessive, protective instinct into overdrive and there was no doubt left. It had never been a joke before, but I knew I probably wouldn't have carried through, listening to sound reason and logic before reacting. Now, there was no doubt.

I would kill for my mate.

I would gladly set the world on fire if harm ever came to him. He was my rock. My anchor. He was where I felt most at peace, and most normal. I would definitely kill to protect that.

**

"You need to rest, babe."

Beehive only smiled, tipping his head up to kiss my cheek. Disregarding my warning that it was better to catch up on much needed sleep and recovery, he'd been adamant he go with me to the hospital even after I told him, I wouldn't mind going in his stead since it obviously meant that much to him.

"Make me." he taunted, earning himself a growl of irritation.

This was simply one of the many reasons I loved him so freaking much. He rarely backed down, and if he did, it wasn't without a fight or, he had a good reason. Our minor argument was the result of him not backing down, refusing, or rather, once again neglecting his own wellbeing to care for another.

Jace had called about an hour before, informing us that Lance had finally awoken. Jaxon had swung by earlier on, bearing the same news, but also to let us know that Davin was finally up and about. Injured and still in need of recuperating but as functional as he'd been prior to being exposed as a traitor and tortured.

"Why are you so damn aggravating?" I retorted. Beehive chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around my waist, and pulling our bodies flush.

"You love me."

A smile curled my lips hearing him use the same words I had, one too many times on him. Tracing his bottom lip with my thumb, I locked my eyes onto his. "Too much if you asked me."

"Come with me if you are so worried."

"I'm your mate, Beehive. Not a bodyguard."

He gave me a sweet smile that deflated me completely. I didn't possess the will to fight with him any longer. That smile of his was dangerous. The one where it reached his eyes, giving it a lively twinkle that lit up his entire face.

He could fell armies that with smile!

"It's all in the job description, love." he retorted cheekily as he stepped away and started, carefully, making his way about the bedroom and gathering articles of clothing. A black muscle tank and matching jacket, jeans, and black and white high-top Vans.

Great.

Not only does he refuse to back down, but he's trying to kill me while at it.

Shaking my head, I took a moment to watch him hobble around the room as best he can, switching out his washed-out joggers and shrugging on the jeans with some difficulty. My heart clenched painfully seeing him struggle but what killed me most was that he bore no reaction whatsoever. As though getting dressed while nursing multiple, critical injures was simply the norm for him.

It made me boil, the animal instincts that had been so quiet surging to the surface, howling with a battle cry born of anger and bloodlust. I wanted the blood of everyone who had dared to touch him; hurt and made him bleed. What right did they have to take something so beautiful and innocent and corrupt the shit out of it?

What gave them that power?

What gave them the moral high ground to rip it up until there was nothing, but a battered, slowly shattering husk left?

I fought tooth and nail to put him back together. I was still doing it and had learned the hard way that there were some things about him that couldn't be changed for the better because those assholes had completely destroyed those little pieces of him. Turned those pieces of perfection into flaws but I had accepted each and every one, loving those pieces wholly because they made him who he was.

"Baby? Need some help?" I offered, already moving closer with the intention to help him but somewhat still afraid of touching him for fear of causing more pain.

He looked over with a smile that unlike the other one, it didn't reach his eyes. This one was broken, fake, and desperately clung to the hope that he'd done a good job at hiding the true extent of his pain. Unfortunately for my sweet mate, I was getting better at reading all of his signs. Our consummated mate bond only further decimated that barrier that had once separated us.

There was little he could hide from me.

"Wouldn't you enjoy that, pervert?" he retorted teasingly, wincing slightly as he finally managed to pull his jeans up. He straightened his stance, taking a deep, shakily inhaling and slowly letting it out through his mouth. He cradled his side where he'd been damaged, and I noticed the slightest of trembles in his fingers when he reached to clasp the button.

"Are the painkillers wearing off?"

"I'm okay, Carter. You should get dressed, too."

Dear, goddess; give me the strength to cope with his stubborn headedness.

Seeing my disapproval at his words and how badly he tried to divert the attention away from the pain he was in, he inhaled and exhaled once more, shoulders drooping from the sudden wave of exhaustion that washed over him. One that I felt too. He clutched at his side where his ribs had been bruised, the skin there a darkish purple color that told me he was already healing.

"Alright. I'm not fine. I'm in so much damn pain all the freaking time that I just don't know anymore! If somebody hasn't tried killing me, I'm struggling with the mental and emotional anguish I just wish would disappear." He abruptly sat down on the edge of the bed, covering his face with his hands. He rubbed at his forehead and eyes as if to rid away the tension and exhaustion.

I went over and kneeled in front of him, taking hold of one hand and tangling our fingers as I pushed my forehead to his. My aim was to take away the bubbling anxiety and the frustration he felt over his own life.

"I just want one day." He moved away, clasping my hand with both of his. "One day where I'm not in any pain. Where I don't have to worry about triggers and always being on edge because I never know when, what, or who might trigger an episode. I just want one day where I could be...be a teenager."

In other words, he wanted a bit of normalcy. Truly, I wish I could give him those things right away like I had a superpower to grant people's wishes. For everything he'd been through, it was such a humble yet heavy request.

An idea then popped into my head.

"Tell you what," I started. He leveled his gaze with mine, the haunting gleam in his icy blue eyes sparking a different type of pain within me. "When school's out for summer, I'll take you on a road trip. Just you, me, and anywhere you want to go."

"Outside of the county?" he asked uncertainly with a little tilt of his head.

"That's the idea, love. We could go out-of-state if you wanted. Stop anywhere even if all you want is to try some fancy, new food. We could go hiking, backpacking, rock climbing, surfing. You name it and I'll make it happen."

He playfully scrunched his face up in a manner that I found endearingly adorable. "Sounds like the opportunity of a lifetime, Mr. Sugar Daddy." he teased, winking playfully. My cheeks flushed but I couldn't resist smirking at how he'd addressed me.

"Anything for you, sugar baby."

Rolling his eyes, he grabbed up the muscle tank that lay beside him and carefully shrugged it on. His breathing hitched from the pain in his side and when he pulled the material over his head and down his torso, his jaw was clenched tightly.

He reached for the pair of socks he'd dragged out to wear, but catching my expression, he reluctantly, coyly handed it over, cheeks blazing from embarrassment. Beehive kept his gaze pointed down, shyly fiddling with his fingers as I relished in the pride that swept over me being able to do little things like this for him.

I didn't want him overexerting himself- no doubt Lisa would throw a fit when she heard he left the house- and putting more strain on his healing body. One after the other, I slipped on each sock and then grabbed the sneakers from where it lay at the foot of the bed.

"If you don't stop being so sweet..." I threatened lightly having noticed how he would sneakily peek up at me while I helped his feet into the sneakers. Beehive flushed, covering his face with his hand.

"It's embarrassing!" he cried, peeking up at me through the spaces between his fingers. "I've never had anyone do things like this for me so it's...you know...weird." His face was red as he huffed exaggeratedly, pouting behind those tapered fingers.

"It's all in the job description, love." I repeated his words from moments ago, leaning forward and kissing him on the nose as I finished off tying up his shoelaces. "Give me five minutes to change into something more appropriate." Gently patting his knees, I got up and went over to the drawer where he kept the clothes, I left behind just so that I didn't need to keep bringing a bag each time I crashed at Black Rock.

Beehive stayed on the bed, scrolling through his phone while I pulled on a fresh set of jeans and a V-neck tee. Slipping on my sneakers, I returned to the bed and grabbed up the card of pain killers Lisa had prescribed him and the bottle of water he kept on the bedside table.

"Love?"

"Hmm?" He glanced away from his phone, and I managed to catch a peek at the screen. He was texting Jaxon. Didn't catch a glimpse their conversation but whatever it was, it seemed to be important if that had been his response to me calling his name.

Beehive suddenly scowled, eyes trailing my body head-to-toe. He crossed his arms over his chest, an expression of absolute disapproval etched onto his handsome face. "Wear a different shirt. You're not leaving here in that."

Raising an eyebrow, I glanced down at my body wondering what in the world was so wrong with it. He made it sound as though I were wearing an offending giant purple and green dinosaur costume when truly, all I wore were black jeans and a gray V-neck. Okay, I admit the neckline was a little on the low and wide side, but it wasn't fitted, and all the important parts were covered.

Okay?

"There isn't anything wrong-"

His jaw ticked in irritation. "First of all, I'm injured. Secondly, you only renewed the mark so I'm still a little horny."

Oh my! I'm really loving this side of him! Perhaps I should starve him of my hormones and enzymes more often if only to get a peek at this blunt, seductive little devil who rears his head when he doesn't get what he wants.

"So, before I have to kill a bitch for looking at you too long, or I jump you, change the shirt."

I pretended to think about his request, loving the reddened cheeks from his embarrassment and jealousy, and the scent of his arousal. "Well...I wouldn't mind witnessing the former and I sure as hell wouldn't mind the latter. So...no." I shook my head dramatically for emphasis, barely resisting the urge to laugh when I saw the glare housed on his face. "Come on, take your meds because we aren't leaving until you have."

Beehive grinned smugly as he straightened his back. "No. If you won't change your shirt, I won't take the pain killers and I can just go without you."

His words made me laugh. "See, the thing about your threat, Beehive, is that I have a choice here." I indicated the shirt. "You don't." I wriggled the pill pack grinning smugly much like he did when he screwed up his face in distaste. Chuckling when he snatched the packet away, I watched as he popped two pills into his mouth and snatched the bottle away too.

"Drink up and swallow." I instructed with the pure intention to irritate him. He rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at me, but complied, nonetheless. I shook my head and sent a wink and a kiss his way.

Once we were all set, I drove us to the hospital, and we got Lance's room information from the front desk. I had to bite down on the insides of my cheeks at how he clutched onto my arm the entire way, glaring at any female or male who glanced our way as if they'd steal me away. What he hadn't realized was that most of the stares we received were either confusion or concern and was aimed at him.

The large, stitched gashes on his face that accompanied the healing scars, the large bruises, messed up right ear, and the now extremely faint, greyish vein-like markings creeping up over his jawline were sure to draw attention since a significant percentage of hospital staff were humans. There was also the fact that he had a slight limp when he walked, which I think contributed to why he clung to me.

We got to the room they were keeping Lance to find the door wide open and a couple persons inside, one of them, I recognized as the doctor and Jace's father, David Connor. The others were Blackwater's higher ups, Tucker, Zain, and Jason. The other Walker twin was here as well, sporting a few bruises, bandages and band aids, and a couple stitches but other than that, he appeared to be fine.

Lance did not.

With all the blood cleaned away, it showed the true extent of the damage that had been done to him. The poor guy was covered in bruises, cuts, gashes, and stitches. And that were the parts of his body that stayed exposed like his arms, face, and neck. I dreaded to imagine the condition of his entire body. Some of his hair had been trimmed down and cut off to access the wounds on his head. It was a sorry sight that made my stomach flip in certain dread and sympathetic pain.

Beehive had not been tortured to the extent Lance had, but he had harbored something much more worrying.

Doctor David Connor paused in his medical report as we entered, drawing the collective attention of everyone else inside. The tension and somber atmosphere that abruptly assaulted me was so thick and suffocating that I momentarily forgot how to breathe right. The surge of negative energy complimented the grim expressions the Blackwater higher ups wore and immediately, a sense of foreboding sucker punching me.

What the hell happened?

Lance sat quietly, propped against some pillows. He fiddled with his fingers; gaze pointed down, but anyone could tell his mind was furthest from here. All thanks to Jaxon, picking up on chemo signals was an easy job. Lance was the perfect mess of all anxiety at this point. That coupled with a muddle of other emotions- none of it good- made up for one of the most pungent odors I'd picked up on since learning to track chemo signals.

Whatever news Doctor Connor had broken to them was not at all good. And I think Beehive noticed this too because he immediately left my side, carefully hobbling over to Lance's bedside. I watched as Davin Walker assessed my mate's stance from his perch on the only chair in the room and how Beehive leaned more on his right leg due to the stab wound on his left thigh. Davin then stood and tapped my mate on the shoulder, gesturing for him to sit down and take the added pressure off of his injured leg.

Walker went over to Lance's side and patted his shoulder, the gesture appearing to snap him back to reality as Lance jumped and glanced up at his friend.

"Is it possible he'll make a full recovery?" Tucker suddenly asked, directing his question to Jace's father. The older man's expression faltered, an indication that whatever ailment was Lance's diagnosis, there was not a favorable chance.

"Truly, I'm not sure." David replied. "I've seen cases of wolfsbane poisoning but nothing this extensive."

"Doctor Connor," I stated quietly as I moved further into the room, "if only you knew what Bennett just recovered from, I'm sure Lance could make a full recovery."

"I'm aware, Carter." he returned, no doubt having been informed of my mate's previously deplorable condition through his son. "However, Lance's diagnosis is far more delicate than Bennett's. Honestly, I don't know if he'll recover. At least not on his own. The mate bond is capable of doing extraordinary things, I would know,"

Of course, he would. He was the same doctor who had run the tests and diagnosed his own son with a terminal illness that was already killing Jace.

When Sky marked him, it eliminated any chances of that brain tumor returning. David Connor had not only witnessed the complete vanquishing of an illness that would have claimed his son's life, but he had also witnessed his son transitioning into one of us.

Yes, the mate bond was indeed capable of amazing things.

And yet, there were still some things that even the mate bond could not do.

"If Lance finds his mate and they mark one another, there is a chance he might make a full recovery."

"What are the chances of it succeeding?" Tucker followed up.

"I can't give you an estimate. Wolfsbane poisoning to this extent is something new to me in all my years of medical expertise."

"There must be something else we can do." Tucker argued. "We can't wait around for the mate bond. Is there another doctor you can recommend or even some type of drug-"

"Tuck!" Lance suddenly blurted. He kept his expression hardened, but his gaze stayed pointed down. His rough tone brought a hush to the room. "You heard what he said. There's nothing else we can do. That's just how it is."

"You can't be serious, Lan." Jason spoke up for the first time. He too wore a somber expression that only added to my confusion. Lance had obviously been severely hurt but was it that bad that they doubted his complete recuperation?

Then again, Beehive and I arrived a little too late, therefore missing out on all the details of Lance's medical report.

"What do you want me to do, Jay?" Lance fired bitterly. "There's nothing that can be done. The mate bond is a waste of time, and I'm the one who's stuck living this broken shit of a werewolf. Not you or anyone else and right now, I don't exactly see a way out of this!"

There was no mistaking the pain and frustration. The fear and uncertainty. Lance was barely holding together and whatever news Doctor Connor gave them had broken him, perhaps beyond repair. His complete devastation and hopelessness were perfectly captured on his face and even mirrored in his voice.

I could only guess what he had meant by those words.

"I really am sorry. I wished there were more that I could do." Doctor Connor paused to look through the clipboard before speaking up again. "We'll keep him under observation for another twenty-four hours before he's discharged. In the meantime, I suggest you head home. Some of you have been here since he was admitted."

Doctor Connor inclined his head in respect toward Tucker, and then me, before taking his leave. Silence drowned the space. It became so deafeningly quiet that one could easily hear the conversations of others all the way at the end of the corridor.

Tucker then shook his head. "There has to be something we can do. I'm not giving up until we fix you."

"Guys," Beehive started, questioningly, as he glanced to each of the Blackwater higher ups present, "what's wrong with Lance?"

"No!" Lance suddenly blurted just as Jason was about to open his mouth and inform us on what we'd missed. "Don't." he pleaded.

Okay. All this told me was that something had gone very wrong with Lance and for whatever reason, he didn't want a whole bunch of people knowing. That only added to my worry as I glanced over to my mate who tried making idle conversation with the room's occupant clearly trying to cheer him up without prodding further into the 'forbidden' topic.

Lance and Beehive were no doubt held captive down in that basement together. I'd caught his scent in the room next to the one we'd found Lance in, the stench of his scent, fear, anxiety, anger, and blood drenching the space.

What if Lisa's medical expertise was wrong? What if whatever happened to Lance, could happen to my mate as well? What if maybe the effects were delayed?

It was scary. Not knowing Lance's diagnosis but possessing the knowledge that both of them had been tortured.

"I hate to make things gloomier," my mate spoke up then, his tone taking on a businesslike one, "but I need some information. Now that Lance and Davin aren't walking on a thin thread, do you have any information on the mole or however many there may be?"

Like my mate, I honestly think there may be more than one inside of Black Rock. Instinct pointed me toward three people in particular but I had no solid evidence so I couldn't go around casting blame and tossing accusations about even though I'd like to just to observe reactions.

Davin expelled a heavy breath then, ruffling the side of his hair in a manner that demonstration his fatigue and frustration. "Not really. In all the months Lance and I were 'playing the part'," he emphasized, "we never saw who Tobias, Lyle, or Teddy were communicating with. The perps are smart, that much I can say. Never showed themselves, and never once showed up where we were based. Though there were a few times I managed to overhear phone calls between Tobias, the others, and who I guess are the perps. One of them is definitely a man, and there were one or two times before I'd heard them speaking to a woman over the phone."

"Hmm..." Beehive mused, pursing his lips in thought. "Did you recognize any of the voices?"

"Sorry, B." Davin replied. "You know I don't really like your pack. That's why I never hung around anyone other than you, Bentley, and Jaxon."

"But," Lance started with a drawl, lightly scratching at one of the stitches on his cheek, and then another, "there is something else that may help. Sometimes Tobias would head out. My guess is that he was probably going to meet up with the mole, or one of them. He'd usually come back smelling like lavender. Sometimes rosemary, or mint. And I'm not talking about artificial fragrances either. It was too strong and would sometimes still be on him a day or two after."

"Now that you mention it, at one point, Teddy went out and came back smelling like eucalyptus." Davin informed, a frown pinching at his face. He shuddered lightly causing his twin to roll his eyes.

"So..." I started, "there's a possibility the mole, or all of them, might be using raw herbs to mask their scent." Davin and Lance nodded to my words, their agreement making me scratch at my head. "That means there's no way of finding out who the perps are unless we catch them red-handed."

"Not quite so." Beehive piped up, a knowing grin curling his lips. "During the first few weeks that Black Rock was in Jasper Falls, I spent a lot of time in the slums. There's something there that might pay off."

"What?" I asked, an edge to my voice that let everyone know that I least liked the idea of my mate venturing anywhere near that godforsaken place. The last time he'd been near there, he'd almost relapsed and not more than a week after he'd been discharged and cleared to leave rehab.

"There's a small herb and spice shop just outside the slums. It's run by a sweet, old couple."

"That's good." Tucker mused. "But do you think they'd be stupid enough to buy it on home turf?"

Where anyone might see them?

Beehive only shrugged. "In short supply, yes." He then smiled that same knowing grin as if confident in his idea. "We don't need to confirm how often the perps purchase it. We just need to confirm that a purchase of those herbs was made within the last number of weeks, and who it was."

"We'd need Council clearance for that, first." I informed. As good as his idea was, there were still legal procedures we had to follow and abide by to avoid creating a ruckus and getting sued.

"We can't just barge in and demand customer information even if it's something small or just a little herb and spice shop. Getting clearance to obtain that information might take some time unless my father can pull a few strings with the Council and get us a warrant before the day is out. Which we don't have a lot of left anyhow."

Beehive tilted his head in a fashion I found adorable even if he retained that businesslike exterior as though we were discussing a life and death matter. Which we kind of were.

"Can you? Call your dad and tell him we've found a possible lead. See what he can do to get us clearance."

And I did just that. The call lasted no more than a few minutes after I recounted the details of what Lance and Davin had disclosed to us. Like me, my father found it to be a strange lead, but he understood, nonetheless, that it could be helpful especially since the perps were smart and had been careful thus far.

With my father being Marcana's beta, a Council member with a higher up, concrete position, I'd been raised to stay alert and question everything that was unclear. I had been taught that instincts never led astray and that if all else fails, never betray that nagging little voice. Finding my mate in Black Rock's upcoming commander had only further propelled me to indulging that little trait because Beehive was forever perceptive, and anything rarely escaped his attention and suspicion. Even if he never voiced it, the thoughts floated around in his mind.

That being said, there was something I needed to check on. A gut instinct told me where I needed to go and what I needed to ask because if my suspicions of the last few days were proven right today, this could all be my fault.

And I would have unconsciously, indirectly aided in the attacks on Marcana and Black Rock, and practically set my own mate up for assassination attempts.

"Love?" Beehive called as we made our way out of the hospital. He wore an expression of concern as he stopped walking and turned about to face me. "You look like you've seen a ghost. What's wrong?" he asked, stepping closer and placing a hand on my chest.

Our gazes locked, my eyes flitting over his face and the many cuts, stitches, bruises, and scars that littered his once flawless skin like a damn canvas. I couldn't wait until each and every one of those godforsaken offending marks had been healed away.

What if my suspicions were true? It was bad enough Beehive had once been so depressed that he'd tried coaxing me into losing my temper and killing him. It didn't matter that it had happened before our bond had manifested itself. The very thought that he could have succeeded had once shattered me, and the more I thought about the possibility of it happening, the more troubled I felt.

Unnecessary 'what ifs' rose to the surface and truly, I couldn't imagine where I'd be without him. Perhaps I'd still be the worst version of myself surely spiraling into complete chaos as I became more unstable and unpredictable, effectively jeopardizing the future of both myself, and the pack.

But now, if my suspicions were true, would I even be able to remain in check? Or would I go completely ballistic?

I looked back at my mate, seeing the visible worry in those icy blue eyes.

Yes.

I would set the world on fire with a smile on my face.

"I know you want to get back home and rest, but do you mind if we went ahead to that shop you mentioned? There's something I need to confirm."

Beehive frowned. "I thought you said we needed a warrant for that."

I rubbed at my neck. "I don't require one for this. I just need to go there and check something. Call it instinct."

My mate nodded in understanding, gesturing to the large car park ahead of us. "Okay. You're the one driving, so take us away." he said, with a bright smile that completely won me over. Unable to resist the temptation, I leaned closer and lightly kissed him on the cheek.

A near death experience and running somewhat low on my hormones and enzymes was bringing out a side of him I found to be endearingly feisty, seductive, and adorable.

He followed me back to the Silverado and strapped himself into the front passenger's seat. We took off, driving out of the hospital parking lot on route to the slum area of Jasper Falls. I recalled he had said the shop was located on the outskirts of that area, and while I personally never wanted to set foot near that place again or have my mate within a one-mile radius of it, I couldn't ignore the gut feeling that all my fears would be confirmed on a single visit.

"It's on the left. Looks a little antique with a bunch of herb and spice strings out front." he described. My eyes taking in every little detail of the street we'd turned down, I quickly spotted it about halfway down the narrow road, small sparks of anxiety igniting within me and I wasn't sure if it had come from myself, or Beehive.

I knew his experiences here were probably nothing short of unsettling having been a temporary focal point for that depressing period of his life. Getting mixed up with bad company, in particular, Lukas; it was where he'd come to get his supply of drugs and alcohol.

Though I knew for sure my mate would be in the clear now that Lukas had been apprehended by the S.W.A.T team the Council had locked onto his last known location, it didn't stop the flurry of anxiety from fluttering through me knowing that the heart of the slum area was only a street away.

Pulling into one of the two parking spaces out front of the small shop, we got out and I made sure to hit the lock on the key remote. Hand-in-hand- because I generally didn't trust anyone in this part of town despite the narrow street closely related to a ghost town, the only other souls around being vendors and owners of equally boring, little shops- we stepped across the threshold and into the stuffy space.

Potted plants of all kinds were arranged on either side creating a makeshift pathway. On one side of the room, taking up the majority of the shop's space were shelves upon shelves housing little jars, pots, and growth boxes holding plants, herbs, and spices of different species and colors. Most of which, I knew not one flying rat's ass about. The smells of each plant, herb, and spice mixed together to create a spicy, warm scent with a hint of something sweet and pleasant.

On the other side of the room, there was a long counter that ran from behind the line of potted plants on our left to the other end all the way ahead of us. Further down the counter, a little old man was seated, flipping through a worn-out notebook.

Or at least, he had been until he glanced up and saw us.

Glancing over to my mate, he tilted his shoulders wearing a sweet, little smile as though silently saying that I alone knew what we were doing here so to go for it.

Ah! I can't wait until he's all healed and rejuvenated! I'm going to make love to him for hours on end.

"Looking for something?" the old man's voice snapped me back to reality, and out of the confines of my dirty mind that was already thinking up perverted scenarios of Beehive beneath me, writhing and panting.

I offered the old man a friendly smile as we walked further in, my mate already preoccupied with scoping and examining the potted plants even though I knew he was listening.

"Yes, please. My mother has recently decided to start up her own home garden with herbs and spices." I lied fluently, the words effortlessly rolling off my tongue. Beehive paused in his browsing to look over at me, an eyebrow raised in amusement. "Since neither she nor I have the slightest clue on how to maintain such, I was hoping you might offer some advice."

The old man smiled. He walked a few steps further down the counter and lifted the top so that he could step out into the open space. "What is she hoping to plant?"

"I believe they were...lavender, rosemary, eucalyptus, and...mint?" I drawled lamely, hoping to sell the act that I was new to this, interested, and invested in helping my mother start her non-existent herbal garden. For further effect, I shot a glance over to Beehive, questioning in nature as if for him to confirm the names of those herbs.

He shrugged again, but shook his head this time, turning back to the first shelf that housed small potted plants that would easily fit in one hand. I heard him mutter something along the lines of, "Smooth."

"What can you tell me about it? I apologize, I haven't the slightest clue about herbs and spices let alone what each one looks like."

The old man chuckled but went on to tell me all about how to maintain each one of the herbs I had listed off while gesturing us forward. He walked past a few shelves before stopping at one and entering the aisle.

"This is the lavender." The old man pointed to a shelf of hydroponic grow boxes that had little lilac colored flowers. "The unit behind has the eucalyptus plants that are still too small to go down into the dirt."

"What about those?" I asked, jabbing a thumb at the unit on our immediate right where the shelves were lined with potted plants of white and yellow.

"Those are jasmines." The old man informed. A nagging little voice at the back of my mind propelled me forward and I crossed the short distance in two quick strides. While I examined the potted flower plants, bringing my face closer to the shelves, I overheard the old man speaking with my mate, asking him if he was alright and had visited the hospital since he looked like he'd been mauled by a bear.

Not quite off, old man. Try a werewolf.

Returning my focus back to the potted plants, I took an inhale of the plant closest to my face, noting the sweet fragrance. The second the scent registered; it was like an explosion had been set off in my mind. Scenarios I'd buried away, and memories I had shoved down for both the sake of my sanity and my mate's suddenly came rushing to the surface.

The memories played out like a film reel at the forefront of my mind, the scent of jasmines quickly becoming suffocating as minor details I hadn't paid attention to in the past suddenly rang true and louder than any other.

My heartbeat sped up, pounding louder in my ears, and drowning all other sounds as the puzzle pieces finally began to fit. Without another sound, I moved back to the shelving unit that housed the lavender plants and took a whiff of that too.

Fucking hell!

I knew who the perps were. They had been right under our fucking noses the entire time! So many signs we had ignored. If only we had paid closer attention, things wouldn't have escalated so quickly. Things that could have been avoided...

"Carter?"

The sound of Beehive's voice sounded faraway. I was slowly going ballistic thinking up how I would torture and kill the perps for everything they had done to my mate. For all the misery they'd brought upon him, the attacks they were undoubtedly involved in coordinating against Marcana and Black Rock.

My breathing pattern changed, and my fingers twitched causing me to clench and unclench my fists as sanity momentarily wavered, the animal instincts pushing to the surface in a surge of anger and vile disgust stronger than any other I had ever experienced.

Stronger than when Beehive been stolen away from me. Stronger than it had been down in that basement where the scent of blood, fear, anxiety, and angered tortured me. And where the images of what had been done to him assaulted my mind.

The instinct to kill hovered so dangerously close to the surface. Control was quickly slipping away as the beast-like instinct steadily began to blur and overshadow the logical side.

"Carter?" a voice called, followed up with the feeling of something grabbing onto my wrist. Sparks of electricity surged through my body, emanating from that one contact, raising pleasurable chills in its wake.

Blinking, I glanced over to find a pair of worried, icy blue eyes locked onto me. Expelling a shaky breath, I glanced about to find that the shop's owner had now returned to the front counter, speaking to a large, gray-haired man who looked familiar even though his back was turned to us.

Reality was still warped, so, I slipped my hand into Beehive's letting the bond sizzle and zap, lassoing me back completely as the final pieces of what happened, fell into place.

My fears had been confirmed. I was partly to blame for every misfortune that had happened to Black Rock since their arrival here. Partly to blame for the attacks on Marcana, the kidnapping of Laken...and Ash's rape. Partly to blame for the assassination attempts on my mate and his kidnapping.

Beehive kissed my cheek and hugged my arm. His scent invaded my senses, making my mind fuzzy and drowning out all negative thought. The warmth of his body that seeped through the jacket he wore burning like a warm furnace against my arm shoved the last of those killer instincts down.

He was next to me. Safe.

He was doing an amazing job at keeping me anchored, keeping the bloodlust at bay. No one else could do that and this was obviously a side of me that didn't submit to anyone other than Beehive.

"We might be in the right place." he suddenly said, gesturing to the gray-haired man speaking with the shop's owner. Control completely in my grasp again, I recognized who the person was. "Grandpa's got a few questions of his own."

We stayed between the shelving units, successfully eavesdropping on the conversation between Kosta Kabanov and the shop's owner. Beehive's grandfather held an orange envelope from which he pulled out a few slips of paper. He laid it out onto the countertop, tapped each and asked questions.

"Have you seen any of these people around here?"

It was obvious he was here on official Council matters.

The old man studied the pieces of paper which I'm guessing were images of the people Kosta was talking about. The old man then tapped on one of the photos.

"I've seen him about. Usually goes into the slum area, though. But these two," the old man paused, pointing his finger over the other two pictures, "they come in here once every week. Sometimes, twice."

"Really?" Kosta mused. "What do they buy?"

"Hold on. I keep records." The old man shuffled about behind the counter, plopping down onto another chair since all that was visible to me was his head of white hair. A few moments later, he placed a large book on the countertop and flipped open the cover, grabbing a large portion of the book and flipping it over.

More silence followed as the old man appeared to be reading over what had been written on those pages before he finally paused. He tapped a finger against the page. "Here. This was their first order. All the way back in October of last year, they came in to buy eucalyptus, and jasmine."

My breath hitched as it dawned on me that Kosta was here for the same reason I was. He had finally gotten concrete evidence on the perps. Evidence that fit what Davin and Lance had told us concerning the perps' scents and furthermore, confirming my suspicions.

Kosta leaned on the counter, flipping through page after page. Minutes ticked away as Beehive and I tried to appear inconspicuous, pretending to show interest in the shelving units that housed various plants in pots and growth boxes.

"So...for four months, their order, in large quantities was jasmine and eucalyptus. Until February, they started buying mint, rosemary, and lavender." Kosta said, though mostly to himself as he hummed in thought, scratching at his stubbled jaw. "They've been buying a lot lavender and eucalyptus."

Kosta then shoved one of the pictures closer to the old man. "About this man. You mentioned he usually went into the slum area. Did you happen see whom he met up with?"

The old man shook his head. "But they looked like trouble. Buff, mean-looking men who are always creating trouble around here."

Kosta then pulled out more pictures from the envelope and laid it out. "Do these look like any of the men he met with?" Once more, the old shop owner studied each picture carefully before pointing out four of all the photos laid out before him.

"I'm not in any trouble, am I?" the old man then asked, evident fear in his voice as worry crinkled his already crinkled face. "You said this was official Council business, and I don't want any trouble."

"You're not in any trouble. If anything, you've helped me confirm new evidence to build my case." Kosta replied. He then flipped the large book close and gathered the pictures before tucking it back into the envelope. "That'll be all. Thank you for your time. Enjoy the rest of your day."

Kosta inclined his head to the older old man and turned about to leave, catching sight of his grandson and me hiding between the shelving units. He tossed us a knowing glance, quickly flitting his gaze to the door and then back. A signal for us to follow.

Once he exited, jumped into his car, and sped off back the way we had come, I quickly made up an excuse saying that I'd seen all I needed and might swing by another time with my mother. We wished the old man a safe, good day and left, piling into the Silverado and quickly left the slum area behind.

Turning out onto the street that would take us into Lativa's commercial territory, I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. Perhaps, being near or in the slum area gave me more anxiety than I realized.

I'm glad to be away from that place.

"Grandpa says to meet him at Vega's Bar and Eatery." Beehive suddenly said, pointing the phone screen toward me where the message was displayed. Nodding my head, I turned my focus back onto the road and turned down another street that would take us straight into Marcana's commercial territory where we would head directly to the restaurant owned by one of Marcana's.

Vic and his family.

It was a popular eatery in town and was always bustling with a rush, morning, noon, and evening.

"So..." Beehive drawled, "are you going to tell me what happened back there? I felt your control fluctuate and you looked about ready to lose it."

"You'll find out in a bit." I replied, not possessing the strength to keep myself in check if I had to talk about it. He didn't like my refusal to spill the details of what had thrown me into a spiral of chaos, perfectly demonstrating his displeasure when he crossed his arms over his chest and huffed childishly.

He didn't say anything further understanding that this new information had me spooked. I already knew who Kosta had come in asking questions about and if I talked about it, I doubt Beehive alone might be able to keep me from losing my shit.

Not when he would probably be most bothered by this news. I'd once gotten a preview of it based on an assumption. Now that we had proof, I doubt he'd take very well.

Within minutes, Beehive and I reached our destination, pulling into the parking space right next to his grandfather's black Crossover SUV.

"You're sure you don't want to tell me what has you so troubled?" he asked as we got out and started making our way into the restaurant that was already bustling with the afternoon rush of adults on their lunch hour, getting off work, high schooler's or community college students getting out of classes.

"You won't like it, and you'll like me even less." I replied, aware of how cryptic I sounded.

"Table for two?" the hostess asked drawing our attention to her, and my focus away from the confusion written on Beehive's face. I took note of the shock that registered on the hostess' face when she caught sight of Beehive's deplorable appearance, but she quickly masked it behind a professional smile.

"Uh...no." Beehive spoke, beating me to it now that he'd recovered from the confusion brought about by my words. "We're meeting up with my grandfather." My mate swept his gaze over the restaurant's dining room, quickly spotting his grandfather seated at a booth further at the back, away from the throng of customers. "There he is."

The hostess nodded, her professional smile still plastered on as she led us over and placed two menu cards on the table. Beehive immediately grabbed up one. Before the hostess left, I caught her gaze drifting back to my mate who ignored the curiosity on her face. No doubt, she was wondering what had happened to him.

Maybe it was a bad idea to let him leave the house altogether.

"So," my mate piped up, glancing to his grandfather over the top of the menu card. Kosta sat before us, his menu card off to the side while he sipped from a glass of ice water. "Who were you looking for? Was it really official Council business or something else?"

"Eat first. Then, we'll talk."

We placed our order, and when the food arrived, small talk was made particularly between Beehive and his grandfather. It gave me the opportunity to witness their relationship even though I knew that Beehive held his grandfather in a high regard and practically worshipped the man.

Their conversation consisted of mainly trivial topics, Beehive going off on a speech about what he planned to do. He was still intent on completing the Contest- I noticed the subtle change in Kosta's expression- and becoming the commander of Black Rock's defense unit. He wanted to go to college, and again, I saw a change in the older werewolf's expression. One could see the wheels in his head turning as though he were already thinking of ways to make Beehive's college dream a reality.

Listening to their conversation and witnessing their relationship had only taught me one thing. Bennett Reid was easily the favorite grandson. Especially when my mate went off on his plans for the future, his excitement bubbling over when he talked about playing volleyball professionally, the spark that lit up in Kosta's eyes spoke volumes of how fond and proud he was of his grandson.

But this conservation also told me something else. He was making progress. Talking about his dreams and aspirations as he'd done made me realize that he'd come a long way in a handful of months. He'd once told me that he'd given up hope on having a normal life until I barged in and showed him, I didn't care about who'd he been before, what he'd done, or what had been done to him. I'd given him hope that he could still have that normal life.

The life he'd dreamed of where he'd go to college, play volleyball professionally- maybe even internationally- and then retire to open up his own restaurant.

The fact that he was talking about it showed promise. All he needed to do now, was set his mind to it.

When our food had been cleared and the waiter took our dirty dishes away, Beehive had excused himself to use the bathroom, leaving me alone with Kosta.

"First you got him to remain clean and sober. Next, you got him to open up to us. Then, he starts smiling and laughing more than I've seen in the last two years and now he's talking about his dreams and aspirations again. One would think you're a miracle worker."

I shook my head. "I did nothing special. It was the people he surrounded himself with and I only did what a mate is supposed to do."

"A real mate." Kosta commented, referring to Beehive's shit ex. The old werewolf shook his head, his expression softening considerably and taking on a pained, grieved one. "It was tricky business knowing what that boy was doing and being unable to stop it. You know, shit laws and then his father was the beta. His abuse and manipulations silenced Bennett from speaking up."

"You regret not doing more." I commented despite it being plainly obvious how much it bothered the man. Kosta inclined his head.

"One of my greatest failures." He drank the last of his drink and then set the glass aside.

"He doesn't blame you, though. Any of you."

"I don't understand why he wouldn't. It feels as though we didn't try hard enough. Maybe if we'd done more, he'd be better off."

Perhaps. But they couldn't take all the blame. They were not his legal guardians until very recently and that alone, limited all that they could do. I didn't know much about Black Rock's late alpha and while forbidding Jasmine from seeing her kids was one of the highest acts of cruelty anyone could force onto a mother, even an alpha would have had his hands tied given the fragility of the issue.

If what Elizabeth had told me about Vince's abusive ways toward them, coupled with Chester's physical and emotional abuse toward Beehive, then truly, there wasn't much that could have been done without further traumatizing him.

My mate was a private person. Locked off and preferred to keep his business quiet unless he saw fit for otherwise, it wouldn't come as a surprise if he'd chosen to avoid talking about the abuse because that's who he was as a person.

The abuse and threats would have ensured he never opened his mouth if he'd chosen to do so.

"Maybe. But I doubt he would've talked about it either way and there were also unforeseen incidents no one could have avoided." Sitting up straighter, I fiddled with an edge of the table runner. "What happened before isn't something we talk about often. I usually leave it up to him to open up. He's a very private person, you know."

"He gets that from this side of the family." Kosta replied, indicating himself.

Go figure. Not only was Jasmine's family physically intimidating, but their reserved attitudes and quiet nature heightened the intimidation factor. It was no wonder I sometimes got creeped out whenever Beehive became disturbingly quiet, and a calculating expression came down over his face. I never knew what thoughts were running around in his mind.

Worse, if he had managed to lock me out of getting a read on his emotions.

"I wanted to personally thank you." Kosta started speaking once again, bringing a frown to pinch at my eyebrows. "Bennett had a way of looking past the bad. That was before the raid. No matter what the bullies or Vince threw at him, he kept getting back up. Come his sixteenth birthday, he learned about his mate and things started to change. He grew withdrawn, stopped smiling and laughing as much. After the raid, he withdrew completely, changed into an unrecognizable person, and stopped smiling altogether. I did all I could. We all tried, but it was still not enough. But you managed to bring him back, and for that, you've earned my respect and gratitude."

This was big.

I hadn't expected for all of this to come out. Kosta had no idea how much pressure he was putting on my shoulders, nor how much he had inflated my ego. I'd just earned the respect and gratitude of the most intimidating man in all of Black Rock Canyon! A patriarch in the Kabanov family, and the same grandfather my mate held a ridiculous amount of respect for!

While I knew Kosta never hated me, nor did he disapprove of my bond to his grandson, it felt great knowing that he'd practically inducted me into his family! Hearing him say that I'd earned his respect made me feel like an honorary Kabanov.

"Don't let it go to your head, boy. I'm not fond of egotistical fools."

And there it goes...

Okay.

"Sorry." I apologized with a pout, the 'bursting-for-joy' smile I'd worn a moment ago quickly vanishing into nothing.

"What conspiracy theories are you two plotting against me?" came Beehive's lighthearted teasing. He slid in next to me, glancing between us as if waiting for one to confess our non-existent ploy of villainy.

"Oh," I started, not resisting the urge to play along, and finding the perfect way to annoy him. "I was just telling your grandfather that in light of recent events, kidnapping and locking you away in my isolation cabin at Marcana mightn't be a bad idea. He agrees." I nodded melodramatically for effect.

"Shut up." my mate grumbled in irritation with an eyeroll to match.

"Why? There's Wi-Fi, an entire home-theatre set up. Comfy couches, a bathroom, bedroom, and even a fully stocked kitchen! It'll be like a home away from home vacation spot."

Beehive grumbled again, waving me off in a gesture of dismissal as he turned his attention back to his grandfather who sat quietly, observing our interaction with a barely existing smile on his face. No doubt, happy to witness that his grandson was being treated well.

Kosta truly had no idea how much I planned to spoil his grandson throughout the years to come for all our lives together. He had no idea how much I already spoiled him. Oh well...try to anyway.

"As you were telling us about your trip to the herb shop?" Beehive directed toward his grandfather, letting the question hang indicating that he was ready to learn the truth.

My only hope: he didn't come to hate me when he figured out, I was indirectly related to all of this. Worse, I could only hope that I left here with my life and that Kosta didn't kill me.

Kosta took the envelope that was lying beside him on the booth cushion and laid out the contents on the table. Beehive reached for the papers, just like I had suspected, were images of people and a few type-written documents, one of which was a warrant giving permission for a property search.

Wait...did my father follow through so quickly with my request? Or was Kosta already ahead of the game? Then again, I did give my request last Friday.

Steeling myself for the confirmation of betrayal I already knew was to come and bracing myself for the possible storm of Beehive's reaction, I carefully gauged the confusion written all over his face. His lips were pulled into a thin line, and his brows furrowed.

"Is this..." Beehive started; his voice strained with unfathomable pain that matched the intensity of it that suddenly rushed through me. He trailed off, his Adam's Apple bobbing with a weight as if the possibility of it was a hard pill to swallow. "Is this what I think it is?" He indicated the pictures taken of Tobias, Lyle, Teddy; and finally, the moles of Black Rock.

Vince, Cheryl, and Mandy.

"A while back, I saw those two buying herbs at that shop." Kosta turned his attention to me. "Last Friday, you asked me to investigate them. You said you had a gut feeling they were somehow involved in everything that's happened over the last number of months. I've been suspecting those three for a while now and I've been conducting my own investigations. Leisurely, but investigating, nonetheless. And you were right to suspect them."

Kosta leaned forward and took the papers away from his grandson who sat still as a statue next to me. He wasn't blinking. The only physical indication he gave that he hadn't completely frozen over was the steady, barely noticeable rise and fall of his chest and shoulders. Apart from that, his tidal wave of emotion that assaulted me full throttle told me that he wasn't taking the news well.

He had gone eerily silent. His expression gave nothing away as to what his thoughts might be. But if our bond told me anything, he was in complete shock now that he was faced with hard evidence. He was also at war with himself on how to react feeling betrayed, shocked, and hurt but obviously questioning why he felt that way.

Beehive, like his grandfather, and myself, had his suspicions where those three were concerned. I know he did, even if he didn't voice it. The way he looked at and acted around them was enough of a red flag to tell he didn't trust them an inch.

"I first started growing suspicious of them following the attack on Marcana back in February." Kosta began his explanation. "What spiked my interest was that Tobias' faction knew exactly where to hit the fence. They attacked on a section that wasn't complete. Marcana's members are loyal to its higher ups so that eliminated any chance of a mole there. What I heard about the meeting held after Tobias and faction dusted town, the idea was pitched that there could be someone on the outside with access to sensitive information concerning Marcana's security."

Kosta turned his stern stare onto me. "Your mate's an idiot, B."

I averted my gaze, ashamed by the slip up. However, Kosta's accusation brought about the fury of Beehive's wrath as my mate suddenly turned to pin me with a glare fueled by the anger of the goddess herself.

"Was it fucking pillow-talk, Carter? How the fuck could you be so stupid? Discussing something so frigging important with Ms. Homewrecker-Number-Two?"

"Babe, calm down-"

"Don't tell me to fucking calm down, asshole!" Beehive snapped viciously, though he kept his voice down, he spat each word with anger and raw hatred like no other. "Don't you fucking realize what this implies? It means they could've been behind every fucking attack led against my pack. They could've been involved in coordinating the first attack. They...they could've set up Ben and Chester..."

He was angrier than I'd ever seen him.

Worse. I felt the blame he was throwing toward me.

"I never told her anything about Marcana, Beehive. Not our security plans, nothing."

"Then how the fuck could she have known?"

"Carter's right, B." Kosta spoke up then grabbing his grandson's attention. "They've been careful for so long, but eventually, they'd have had to slip up somewhere. And it started with Marcana. Mandy may have found another way to get access to that information without thinking about future consequences. You spend enough time in this town, make a few observations and you'll figure out how the packs here operate. Chad was one of the leading supervisors for the fence Black Rock installed on their territory, so there's a high chance he was also the one overseeing installation of the first one. That means-"

"He would have had security plans and details stashed somewhere. Somehow, she got her hands on it when nobody was around to catch her. After all, she did spend a fair amount of time at the Hayes' residence." Beehive finished, shooting me a glare of disgust that was too much like the one he used to give me that week he'd gotten out of rehab.

He was becoming volatile toward me all over again and it was hurting like a bitch!

"So, purchasing herbs will help them avoid detection?" Beehive questioned. I'd gone completely silent, deciding it best to say nothing and listen in on their conversation. I feared that if I said anything, Beehive might explode. He was already mad as fuck; I didn't want him hating me all over again.

Kosta grinned. "Fragrance. It's useful for covering up certain scents."

"We visited the hospital earlier today." my mate said with a nod. "Lance and Davin told us that sometimes Tobias would head out and he'd come back carrying traces of lavender, rosemary, mint, or eucalyptus on him."

The older werewolf inclined his head. Beehive turned to me, a frown crossing his expression. "So, where does jasmine fit into this?"

"It was the fragrance Mandy always carried." I replied hesitantly, taking note well, the disgusted glare my mate shot me. No doubt, once more, he was angry with the nature of my past relationship with his sister. It truly was the lowest point of my existence and it appeared I couldn't get away from facing the criticism for my poor choices.

"And then as recently as February," Kosta pointed out, "they started purchasing more quantities of lavender and eucalyptus. My guess, to hide their scents so we wouldn't know what they were up to. That was also around the time I started noticing changes in Mandy's physical appearance, and right around the time your bond manifested. Want to hazard a wild guess as to what she's concealing?"

Oh. Fuck.

Is this really happening right now?

"No..." Beehive drawled, as though he didn't quite believe in it, his reaction saying he'd figured it out.

"That's right. She's pregnant." Kosta confirmed.

"No way." his grandson denied which earned him a dry stare from Kosta.

"I'm an aged man. I've seen my mate pregnant with four children. Seen my daughters pregnant, too. I am well aware of the changes a female's body undergoes during pregnancy." the older werewolf replied rhetorically.

"It's not mine...just as an aside." I quickly defended remembering what had transpired that evening when I was accused of fathering Mandy's unborn child for which by the way, there were still no pheromones. And it's been about three, moving into four months!

"We know, love." Beehive replied, shooting me a soft smile that made me melt. How could he go from being absolutely disgusted with me to looking at me like I was the center of his universe in a matter of seconds? Is he even aware of the effect he has on me?

I'm beginning to think he doesn't.

"Then, why would they try to hide it after accusing Carter of fathering it? And since he's not its father, who is?"

Kosta then grinned knowingly. "I have that somewhat figured out too. In the mood for a little story?"

"Is it really necessary?" I queried, not in the mood to listen to him talk about events that had transpired in whatever age. We already had enough evidence to hold them accountable for the attacks led against Black Rock and Marcana. The pictures alone are evidence solid enough. It allowed grounds to hold a thorough interrogation and get a confession out of them once we asked the right questions and gave the best intimidation.

"You want to know why they claimed you're the child's father, don't you?"

Of course. There was absolutely no way of me possibly impregnating any female when I'd always been careful and never did it without a condom.

Except for when it came to Beehive. He was the only one I'd slept with without using one.

Truthfully, I'd never worried about the accusation because my parents taught me well, and also, I'd witnessed that protective, vicious side in male wolves when their mate was with child. Naturally, I, too would react that way should I father an unborn child. And since there had been no urge to feel protective or possessive toward Mandy, and there had been no distinct pheromone that reached out to me, I wondered why they would make such a claim.

Surely, they had to know it wouldn't have stuck.

Cheryl had insisted that evening that I was the child's father because I'd been the only one her daughter had been involved with. It's either the woman had no idea her daughter's best extra-curricular was sleeping around, or she was too ashamed to admit it. Rather, frame me and almost shatter any chance I had with my mate.

Thankfully, it hadn't come to that. Beehive had been open and understanding, thereby allowing me the chance to smooth things over. And even as our relationship progressed, and we grew closer, that accusation would at times, fleetingly flutter to the forefront of my mind. I'd find myself trying to understand Cheryl and Vince's motive for demanding I mate and marry their daughter when the child was not mine.

"Fine. Story time, I guess." I retorted reluctantly. Beehive slapped my thigh lightly with the back of his hand and I quickly grabbed hold, not allowing him to get away. Threads of anxiety was suddenly bursting through me, some of it mine, but most was his. I wanted to take that away and have him in a right frame of mind for whatever Kosta was about to say.

I had a feeling; we'd both need that comfort.

"It's a powerplay." Kosta stated, flatly, earning himself two dry stares. The older werewolf laughed before he started his story, taking us back in time before our generation was even a molecule. His words, not mine.

"Vince had a thing for Cheryl. Back then, she was the pretty girl all the boys went crazy over. They'd briefly had a fling before she broke it off and decided to aim higher. She went after Joshua." he explained, referring to the late alpha of Black Rock. "But when she realized that she couldn't get him to look her way once, especially since that was around the time that Cate was pregnant with their first-born, she went to someone else. Black Rock's then beta, Reuben Alexander."

"But Beta Reuben wasn't like that." my mate stated with a puzzled frown, his words indicating that he held a fair amount of respect for his pack's late beta.

"No, he wasn't. But he was also the friendly type. Naturally, he befriended her like she had wanted and saw nothing wrong with it. But then she became too comfortable and started creating problems between Reuben and his mate. One thing led to another, Reuben's mate reached her tolerance limit and she snapped. Cheryl realized she couldn't win so she settled for Vince. Together, they brought about havoc between the Reid and Kabanov families. Chased my daughter away, had an illegitimate child together and mistreated the children my Jasmine mothered."

Beehive then nodded his head. "I can see why you say that. Cheryl targeted the alpha and the beta. But settled for fourth-in-command. Mandy targeted Chester. When he died, she started targeting Jax. An alpha by blood, and beta by rank. That didn't sway to her favor since Jax hates her. So..."

"She went after Carter. A beta by blood, and to the strongest pack in Jasper Falls." Kosta finished.

Beehive placed his other hand over mine, gently rubbing his thumb over my knuckles.

What? Did Mandy- like her mother- plan to sleep her way to the top? She'd only targeted high ranked wolves and didn't care who she had to step on in order to attain her status. They were fucking gold diggers!

If this story served as relevant information, and like mother like daughter, Mandy was quite possibly carrying the child of a higher up. The only question was who? Most higher ups our age had either found their mates or knew better than to slip up like that.

Or maybe...it wasn't somebody from Jasper Falls.

The table was silent for minutes at a time. Nobody said anything. Kosta swirled the melting ice around in his glass. I gripped onto my mate for dear life struggling with my fluctuating instincts and that I was basically used to achieve a higher social standing publicly and within pack. It so was much to take in.

They created a rift between the Reid and Kabanov families, one that was thankfully healed most of the way with Beehive and Bentley's birth.

They'd mistreated both boys all their lives. Coordinated- possibly- an attack on their own pack that killed the alpha and his mate, wiped out the beta family and most of the third-in-command. Among other lives lost in that raid, one was my mate's twin. My mate was kidnapped, starved, beaten, and raped.

They were in cahoots with Tobias and could very well be the ones who had hired those rogues to assassinate my mate that night at the beach house. It was the only explanation. We'd said it before. The mole would either be somebody close enough to Beehive, or with a close watch on him. Since, for whatever reason, those three hated my mate with a baseless passion, it would make sense they'd monitor his every move even from afar.

Mandy knew about the beach house because I- once again- like a fucking idiot asshole, had taken her there a few times in the past. It was where we used to meet up most times when neither of us wanted to attend school and needed our fix of sex. She would have known it was where I'd take him since she knew I loved the seclusion and that it was quiet.

There was also the fact that Beehive and I had found it strange to be an assassination attempt called by Tobias. How else could those rogues have known where we would be within less than forty-eight hours of the Hunt. The same night Vince, Cheryl, and Mandy burst into the meeting hall's makeshift hospital spewing garbage.

"Mark my words, Bennett! You'll pay for this!"

It was one of the many things that bitch, Cheryl, had screeched at my mate that night.

Had they helped coordinate the attack last Friday, too? My father had been so sure the mole was a higher up, tossing out the idea for his SOE protocol to rouse a reaction.

And he fucking got one!

"How'd you get these images, anyway?" Beehive asked suddenly, the question pulling me away from the daze. Forcing myself to look at him, even if all I saw was a close-up of his side profile, the wonders it did my control as the last slivers of killer instinct was shoved down.

Beehive shifted the papers, revealing another image. This one of two people speaking, one a female, and the other, a male. I recognized them as Cheryl, and Tobias.

Solid evidence. Images can be manipulated, yes. If you knew the right people.

"These were all taken in the slums. I recognize the streets and buildings." Beehive stated, tapping his finger on the image of Cheryl and Tobias speaking in broad daylight. He moved to another image, this one, of three individuals. Cheryl, Tobias, and Vince captured from surveillance feed in a diner. "I'm not sure where this is though." he pointed out.

"That's in Pymbrooke Creek. The entire town is a hovel." Kosta informed. He shook his head as if the living conditions in that rundown town bothered him.

It would bother any decent person to find that the deplorable, unkempt area that was hazardous to any living creature was thriving with life. Pymbrooke Creek was the muster point for all criminals and social rejects. And the neglect of the town by its own residents easily reflected that.

"I've been doing some digging." Kosta continued, leaning back against the cushioned booth seat. "Visiting areas of other towns Tobias and faction would most likely make base. Of course, it wasn't easy. I had to take advantage of my badge, throw around a few death threats, and make a couple hundred-dollar bribes to get these." He indicated the photos.

"Guess it paid off."

"Where are Vince, Cheryl, and Mandy now?" I asked, speaking up for the first time in a while suddenly finding my voice.

Now that there was evidence tying them to involvement with Tobias, Lyle, and Teddy, since they were amazingly dumb enough to let themselves be captured on surveillance and seen by other slum and towns' residents, it would be dangerous and idiotic to have them roaming freely. Not when they could easily be coordinating another attack against Marcana or Black Rock or plotting another assassination attempt on my mate.

I slipped my hand back into Beehive's, letting the warm electrical sparks of our bond eliminate the anxiety that welled up at the thought.

"Vince is in holding, as per Hunter's orders. When we couldn't come up with substantial evidence, the Council was forced to let him go. Hunter ordered that Vince be locked up in our holding cells because he knew I was still conducting investigations and because he didn't want to run the risk of killing Vince himself."

"Well..." Beehive drew out in amusement, a sinister type of smile ghosting at his lips. "Now the Council has enough evidence, and if Hunter wants, by right as an alpha, he can kill Vince."

Kosta reached forward and gathered the photos and papers. Stacking it neatly, he returned it to the envelope. "That's the idea. With this," he indicated the package, "the Council will have grounds to make another arrest and hold another interrogation. Once we get our confession, Hunter will be called upon to make his verdict as Vince's alpha."

Good. And I hope Hunter decides to go for the kill.

"And the other two?" I prodded.

"Mandy's at school. Once she returns, she and her mother will be taken in for questioning once I pass the evidence to Hunter."

And I hope he kills them both as well. Woman or not. Pregnant or not. The world might be a better place without the spawn of Mandy Reid and the unfortunate bastard fathering her abominable offspring.

Kosta called for the cheque and within minutes, he had paid, sponsoring us our meals despite my reluctance. He may have inducted me into his family, but that didn't mean I felt comfortable with someone else footing my bill.

Especially since he's not my grandfather.

Beehive didn't appear the least bothered. Then again, he was easily the favorite grandson and it was probably something that had occurred many times before. My mate had that effect on people, I suppose. If they weren't rushing to be near him, groveling at his feet like Ash tended to do sometimes, wanting to befriend him, they were trying to spoil him some way, somehow.

"Thanks for the food, grandpa." Beehive directed to the older werewolf who smiled warmly and ruffled his grandson's hair. "By the way, if the Council needs an extra set of hands for interrogation and questioning, I'm open to being considered." he tacked on with a smile that was giddily bright.

Like his grandfather, I gave my mate a suspicious, knowing once over. If the last time I was present for his methods of 'interrogation' served as an indication, I would think Beehive simply wanted to use his father, stepmother, and stepsister as punching bags.

Though they deserved it and much more for everything they'd done, I was slightly more worried for my mate's mental stability. He appeared much too happy at the thought that they'd inevitably be sentenced to death since what they had done was considered treason to the highest degree against a pack and its alpha.

Listing off all of their collective offenses were enough to bring about an immediate death sentence.

Kosta laughed at his grandson's words as he walked around the Silverado to get to his own vehicle. "I'll think about it and be sure to let them know."

As he unlocked the doors, he called out to us again warning us to be extra careful and vigilant. He made it clear that while Vince was in holding, Cheryl and Mandy were not, and we have all seen how manipulative and dangerous either woman could be on her own. For all he...we knew, they could be communicating with Tobias and faction at that very moment coordinating another attack.

Kosta opened the driver's side door of his Crossover SUV and I unlocked the doors to the Silverado, paying no mind to the mindless chit-chat between my mate and his grandfather as I suddenly shuddered lightly. Brushing it off, I listened as Beehive made mention to his grandfather about my brother's upcoming birthday and since we were all technically family now, he suggested the older werewolf show up.

And that's when it happened.

I didn't get the chance to hear Kosta's response past the laughter resonating from him, that being the last sound he'd made that was abruptly cut short. I hadn't had time to register properly, the eerie sensation of being watched because it had happened all too fast.

A sharp, zipping sound echoed through the air followed by the sound of shattering glass. Screams followed but the one that rocked me like no other was the deafening, soul-shattering scream that came from my mate's own mouth.

"Grandpa!" 

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Me realizing what I've done:

Me vs. The Fandom: