Alpha Assignment (BL) 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 his four-foot-something mate to allow that rest to take place in his home.

“When I say temporary, I mean-”

Remi silenced him with a peck to the cheek; he could only reach because he was stood atop his 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 his 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 his bed up for Wes in the meantime with fresh linens.

The arrangement had one advantage that Quinn couldn’t deny: Remi was moving into his bedroom fully. He hadn’t wanted to pressure Remi into sharing an intimate space, ensuring he always had privacy and an area that was just his. 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 his carpets was more disrespectful than not bowing his head a little in his presence. He barely spoke a word to him 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 his.

Jordan hadn’t stayed long after Wes’ arrival, leaving him to Quinn and Remi to deal with. Quinn didn’t blame him, he’d put in more than enough effort to keep Wes alive, he deserved a rest. More than twenty-four hours awake had drained most of the colour from his face - although the tea and biscuits had helped perk him up. Before he left, Quinn gave him fresh clothes and offered to put his blood-stained ones through the laundry. He’d return them on Tuesday, his next in-office day. Jordan accepted the laundry proposal, but wouldn’t let Quinn pay him back for cabs taken from the hospital to Quinn’s house and then home. As he left, Quinn reminded him he owed him lunch at least. Jordan chuckled as he jogged to the waiting taxi, waving behind him 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 him, and get a positive response when he 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 his car still needed attending to. He couldn’t be driving a crime scene back and forth to work… He stood, intent on tackling the next task as soon as possible.

Approaching the kitchen door, he paused. There was a conversation taking place on the other side, and while Quinn didn’t like to eavesdrop, especially not on his mate, he 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 his own attention when the conversation in the living room cut off suddenly. He 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, he marched through the living room, bucket of water and brushes in one hand and spray bottle in the other. As he passed Remi, he popped a quick kiss to the top of his 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. He left before Remi could use his adorable eyes on him and soften the irritation that was pulsing in his chest.

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

“Would you like a coffee?”

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

“What about some lunch?”

Quinn checked his 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 his cleaning. “Whatever you think is best.”

A soft sigh filled him 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 his 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 his side, Wes at least momentarily forgotten.

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

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

Remi hummed happily as he ate and then licked the butter remnants from Quinn’s fingers. He brought his hands up to hug around Quinn’s neck, encouraging him to nuzzle in close. Brushing their cheeks against each other, sharing scent, Quinn’s overpowering Remi’s and satisfying the territorial urges he 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 himself 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 him on edge. It wasn’t rational, but having another werewolf in his space, near his newly-declared mate, may also be adding to his sensitivity to… everything.

Quinn stood, lifting Remi with him, and walked them over to Wes. When he plopped him 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 he 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. He 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…” He spoke softly, as though he might hear him.

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

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

“Oh?”

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

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

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

“Omega!”

Both alpha and omega jolted, but for very different reasons. Before Remi could run to Wes’ side, Quinn snatched his arm. Remi looked back over his shoulder with cute curiosity in his 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 his 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 he also wanted it obeyed. “You’re not his omega, you’re my mate.”

Remi nodded and hurried out. When he returned, Quinn was waiting in bed for him, 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.