Alpha Assignment (GL) Chapter 43 (Early Access) (Patreon)

Wes was healed in terms of stitching his body back together and dressing his wounds, there was nothing anyone could do for him externally at this point, he simply needed rest to allow his body to recover fully. Somehow, Quinn had been forced by her four-foot-something mate to allow that rest to take place in her home.

“When I say temporary, I mean-”

Remi silenced her with a peck to the cheek; she could only reach because she was stood atop her mattress. “Thank you for being so generous.”

Lifting the stripped bedding from the floor, Quinn grumbled into blankets filled with Remi’s scent. Everything was being replaced on the bed before Wes could take it, Quinn would be damned if a stranger got to marinate in her mate’s scent. Marking himself with it. Quinn’s hands clenched into fists in the soft material and stomped downstairs to fill the washing machine. Remi made her bed up for Wes in the meantime with fresh linens.

The arrangement had one advantage that Quinn couldn’t deny: Remi was moving into her bedroom fully. She hadn’t wanted to pressure Remi into sharing an intimate space, ensuring she always had privacy and an area that was just hers. Now that Wes was under their roof, it felt like they had become a united front on one side, with this stranger on the other. It wasn’t Remi’s room, this was Remi’s house.

Wes was laid out on the sofa, dirty feet in the air, when Quinn passed. He had an odd way of showing respect to an alpha. Always gave some kind of acknowledgement when Quinn was near, but also behaved like a wet, wild dog. Surely ruining her carpets was more disrespectful than not bowing his head a little in her presence. He barely spoke a word to her either, instead conducting communication through Remi. If that was what made him comfortable, fine, but of the few words they had shared, Quinn had ensured Wes was aware that Remi was hers.

Jordan hadn’t stayed long after Wes’ arrival, leaving him to Quinn and Remi to deal with. Quinn didn’t blame her, she’d put in more than enough effort to keep Wes alive, she deserved a rest. More than twenty-four hours awake had drained most of the colour from her face - although the tea and biscuits had helped perk her up. Before she left, Quinn gave her fresh clothes and offered to put her blood-stained ones through the laundry. She’d return them on Tuesday, her next in-office day. Jordan accepted the laundry proposal, but wouldn’t let Quinn pay her back for cabs taken from the hospital to Quinn’s house and then home. As she left, Quinn reminded her she owed her lunch at least. Jordan chuckled as she jogged to the waiting taxi, waving behind her at Quinn and Remi jammed in the front doorway.

The dried blood not on their clothes had been worked at by strong omega scrubbing, and it was now hard to tell where Wes had bled all over the carpet, the sofa, the cushions… Quinn couldn’t help but wonder if Remi had jumped on the cleaning so quickly to placate her, and get a positive response when she asked to keep the stray. Wes wasn’t helping his own case by tracking dirt back in over Remi’s hard work. How could a man that could barely walk upright drag so much mud in with him?

Quinn sighed into the barrel of the washing machine and slammed it shut. The back of her car still needed attending to. She couldn’t be driving a crime scene back and forth to work… She stood, intent on tackling the next task as soon as possible.

Approaching the kitchen door, she paused. There was a conversation taking place on the other side, and while Quinn didn’t like to eavesdrop, especially not on her mate, she was curious about this strange man and what he had to say.

Quinn scowled. What the scruffy fugitive had to say was nothing but orders for his pillows, and a drink, and snacks. The scowl deepened at Remi’s polite answers, agreeing to anything he asked.

A low, long growl was rumbling from Quinn’s chest, only catching her own attention when the conversation in the living room cut off suddenly. She stepped back from the door and threw open the kitchen cupboards, collecting cleaning supplies and ensuring Wes heard every bang and crash.

Kicking the connecting door open, she marched through the living room, bucket of water and brushes in one hand and spray bottle in the other. As she passed Remi, she popped a quick kiss to the top of her head and grumbled, “You don’t need to pander to him.”

“He’s not well,” Remi whispered, scolding Quinn mildly.

Wes was watching them with eyebrows to his scalp.

“And pillow fluffing won’t be what heals him,” Quinn huffed. She left before Remi could use her adorable eyes on her and soften the irritation that was pulsing in her chest.

Despite the brisk November winds, Quinn’s angry scrubbing had her sweating through her t-shirt. She started with the floor, so that she wouldn’t have to lean on wet seats. Once she’d reached the chair backs, a small figure appeared at her side.

“Would you like a coffee?”

Quinn paused, unclenched her traps, and pulled herself out and upright. “I don’t think that would do good things for my stress levels right now,” she admitted. When she tossed her brush into the bucket at her feet, the scarlet tinge in the water unsettled her.

“What about some lunch?”

Quinn checked her watch. “A little late for it.”

“I could make some sandwiches?”

A sandwich sounded great… Quinn frowned. “Did Wes ask for a sandwich?”

“I think he could do with something to keep his strength up,” Remi answered quietly.

Ducking back into the car, Quinn returned to her cleaning. “Whatever you think is best.”

A soft sigh filled her with guilt, but Quinn kept at the interior until it was, at least to the naked eye, blood-stain-free.

Back inside, Remi was waiting on Wes hand and dirty foot. He was filling his mouth with apple slices on a continuous loop while the bandages on his chest were changed by nurse Remi. Quinn ignored them and took her supplies to the kitchen to wash up.

There was a thick, double-stacked sandwich bursting with leafy greens waiting on the dining table.

“It’s chicken and salad, is that okay?” Remi cuddled into her side, Wes at least momentarily forgotten.

Quinn nodded, smiling down at her. “Thank you.”

She ate at the table with her back to the sofa, and the sofa’s occupant. Remi took the seat beside her and slowly crept her way into Quinn’s lap with each passing bite, tucking her head under her elbow and into her chin. Once she’d eaten the sandwich down to a Remi-sized portion, she lowered it to her mate’s mouth.

Remi hummed happily as she ate and then licked the butter remnants from Quinn’s fingers. She brought her hands up to hug around Quinn’s neck, encouraging her to nuzzle in close. Brushing their cheeks against each other, sharing scent, Quinn’s overpowering Remi’s and satisfying the territorial urges she normally kept buried deep inside.

A pathetic cough interrupted, reminding them of the fugitive lounging in the living room. Quinn refused to turn and look at him.

“Can you help Wes get upstairs?” Remi asked, pulling herself up on Quinn’s knees until they were eye-to-eye. “He can’t walk well.”

He made it to their house just fine. It wouldn’t keep Remi snuggly to say that, though. And… he was injured, Quinn knew that, logically; that it meant he needed a little extra support. Watching Remi fuss over him, and his avoidance of dealing directly with Quinn, had put her on edge. It wasn’t rational, but having another werewolf in her space, near her newly-declared mate, may also be adding to her sensitivity to… everything.

Quinn stood, lifting Remi with her and walked them over to Wes. When she plopped her down, Wes clenched from throat to feet.

“It’s okay, Quinn is nice and careful,” Remi assured him, patting Quinn’s arm.

Quinn tipped forward from the waist. “Let me know what parts can’t be touched.”

Stiff as a board, Wes squeezed his mouth shut. Quinn sighed and lifted him like she would a plank. He was long, but bony, and light. Quinn carried him up to the spare bedroom while Wes did everything in his power to avoid eye contact. She laid him on the bed, on top of the covers, and left him there.

Remi brought him some supplies and let him rest.

For a few hours, Quinn and Remi had the chance to play at having privacy again. A movie about making the most of every day used up one and a half. Then they cooked dinner together, avoiding the topic of their guest. After they’d eaten, Remi delivered a portion to Wes’ bedside. When they retired for the night, they went through the motions in their newly-shared bathroom.

Climbing into their pjs, Remi broke the ceasefire on the Wes topic. “Wes said something…” She spoke softly, as though he might hear her.

Quinn’s attention was piqued immediately. “Was he rude to you?” she growled.

“No! It’s okay.” Remi smoothed her hands down Quinn’s arms in a soothing motion. It helped a little. “It’s not about me… It’s about Jordan.”

“Oh?”

“She’s more your friend, so I thought you should know.” Remi shrugged awkwardly. “Maybe it’s nothing…”

“You can tell me, my love. Even if it’s nothing.”

“He was talking about the hospital.” Her pronunciation of ‘hospital’ was a little off, the word new to her mouth. She had picked up a lot from just listening to Jordan talk. “He said that someone was calling Jordan while she was sitting with him. All the time. Non-stop calling. And the couple of times she answered, he could tell someone was shouting at her.”

An uncomfortable twist took Quinn’s stomach. “Thank you for telling me, Remi. I’ll handle it.”

“Thank you,” Remi whispered. She kissed her fingers and hopped up onto her toes to place it on Quinn’s cheek. Quinn caught her hand on its retreat and kissed each fingertip. When she released it, Remi’s curled fingers clutched at her chest.

“Omega!”

Both alpha and omega jolted, but for very different reasons. Before Remi could run to Wes’ side, Quinn snatched her arm. Remi looked back over her shoulder with cute curiosity in her eyes. Not a clue as to what was wrong.

“Remi…”

“Yes?”

“Why is he speaking to you like that?” Quinn asked quietly.

For a moment, Remi looked afraid. Quinn forced her face into neutrality, it didn’t help.

“He needs help with something,” Remi mumbled.

“You tell him to call more respectfully next time.” Quinn didn’t like how much that sounded like an order, but she also wanted it obeyed. “You’re not his omega, you’re my mate.”

Remi nodded and hurried out. When she returned, Quinn was waiting in bed for her, ready to jump out if needed. Cuddling in close, Remi whispered, “He just needed more water.”

Quinn switched off the lamp, grumbling into the dark.