An Alpha for Davie (Shelter Falls Book

4) Allie W. Scott
Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://ebookmass.com/product/an-alpha-for-davie-shelter-falls-book-4-allie-w-scott/
AN ALPHA FOR DAVIE

ALLIE W. SCOTT
Copyright © 2024 by Allie W. Scott
All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written
permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Edited by Owl Eyes Proofs & Edits
 CONTENTS
Dear Reader
Previously in Shelter Falls
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
DEAR READER

This is an instalove, MPreg short story. That means the two main male leads meet and fall in love rather quickly. If that’s not
your jam, please feel free to close this story now. I won’t be offended.
ALSO - this book contains the following sensitive materials: Abuse (from a partner), Sexual assault, and
Bullying/Manipulation. All of this happens in Chapter 1. Please skip this chapter if you need to. Your mental health matters.

**Please note the prologue in this story is the same as the epilogue from Harper’s book. This is for any reader who
might not remember the previous story and needs a refresher of where we’re at.**
PREVIOUSLY IN SHELTER FALLS
EZRA

I’ VE NEVER HATED BEING AN ALPHA AS MUCH AS I HAVE IN THE LAST TWO YEARS . THINGS THAT WERE ONCE SIMPLE AND EASY FOR
me to navigate have become treacherous. I can't trust myself the way I once could. My emotions are too uncontrollable to
assume I'll do what's best.
Growing up, my friends always joked about me being a hothead. Back then, it was because I stood up for others when
bullying went from a poke in the arm to punching and kicking. I stepped in more times than I didn't, often out of impulse.
So, it's no surprise that when I thought Ozzy was being manipulated by his baby daddy again, I turned on that hothead
persona. Only, I'd been very, very wrong that time. I wound up hitting my best friend in the face and destroying the reality I'd
known.
Now, I'm not saying that everything is terrible now, I'm just much more observant than I used to be. I catch every little thing
around me, including the stuff people don't necessarily want to be seen. It's a gift and a curse at times.
Tonight, it's a gift.
All of us are together for one last hurrah before Harper's due date. It's also the first time Rylan and Ozzy have both been out
since they've given birth. Their little bundles are wrapped tightly and laying on their parents’ chests.
While I'm immeasurably jealous, I also feel joyful for my friends. They're all mated. Every single one. And with Harper's
baby coming, they'll all be parents too. It's a wild difference from our childhood years when we only mused about our futures
and what they might look like.
As I watch them, I notice Harper looking... odd. He's wincing every now and then. Something in my gut tells me to start
timing them after the third time. Sure enough, I find them to be exactly fifteen minutes apart.
Labor. He's in labor.
Why hasn't he said anything? Feeling that level of pain can't be a walk in the park. Rylan and Ozzy both said it was
definitely 0/10 on the fun scale.
I stand from my seat across from Harper the minute Trey gets up to grab their drinks. Slipping into the empty seat, I grin as I
lean over to the Omega, so no one suspects a thing. Their eyes have been on me a lot more these days after the incident with my
temper and Ozzy. Can't say I blame them though. I'm a liability. It makes sense to watch the weakest link.
"When are you going to tell him, Harper?" I ask calmly.
His eyes go wide as he looks at me. I see the struggle to hide his pain as another wave of pain moves through him. I check
my watch. Eight minutes. Fuck.
"Harper?"
He shakes his head. "It's just early contractions. I know it. This isn't the real deal."
As he speaks, there's a rush of wet noises that come distinctly from between his legs. I raise my brow. "And that?"
Rylan, who is sitting on Harper's other side, notices the liquid and squeals. "Oh my gosh! It's go time. Harper, your water
broke!"
Trey comes running outside. "Did someone say go time? Baby's coming?"
For a man who deals in medicine, he's hilarious to watch in dad-mode. Granted, he's usually dealing with animals, but still.
Where the hell is his calm?
Harper waves his hand around. "Don't freak out, Alpha. I'm going to be ok. The baby will — " His voice cuts out as he
clutches his side in a wave of pain.
I don't have to look at the time to know that one was much closer. "Trey! We need to get him to the hospital now. They're
already less than eight minutes apart."
Trey swallows thickly and stays rooted in his spot for two more seconds before he turns into a fucking superhero. He vaults
over furniture and back into the house. He comes back a minute later, loaded down.
"Can you guys get him to the car? I've got all the bags!" He rushes away before we can answer.
With the other couples handling newborns, I take over the lead role of guiding Harper to the car. He holds my hand tightly
as he waddles through the house to the front door. I'd lift him if I thought he'd let me help that much. That and if I thought my
friend trusted me enough to not hurt him. I'm quite shocked at how quiet they are as they trail behind us through the space.
 At the car, I meet Trey, who is holding the door open and bouncing on his toes. "It's go time, Dad," I say with a wink.
He gives me a lopsided grin. "Yeah, it is. Holy shit."
Harper laughs, then doubles over in pain. "Don't be funny. Please," he wails.
"They're getting closer."
At my warning tone, Trey tosses me the keys. "You're driving. I've got to be in back with him."
Before I can argue, he's climbing inside and shutting the door. I move on autopilot as I rush around the hood to the driver's
side. A quick turn of the ignition and we're roaring to go. The drive to the hospital is tense with the couple in the back talking
through the pain. I keep my foot on the gas pretty much the whole way, thankful we don't have to try to do a homebirth.
As I pull into the emergency entrance, there's a loud wail from the backseat. I screech to a halt as I jump out to find several
shocked faces. "He's in labor. Close contractions. Needs help."
They're moving at the word labor. The backdoor is yanked open, and Harper is eased out of the car. He's put in a
wheelchair and rushed inside. Trey trails after him in a run, leaving me, the car, and their belongings behind. I decide to park
and head inside. They won't need the bags for a bit, but I don't want to leave them alone without seeing if they need anything
else.
I see several texts in the group chat when I sit down in the waiting room.
RYLAN
Keep us updated please!
JEROME
Let us know if you need anything.
ZEKE
Ezra — I'm sure you're sticking around. We can rotate out if you need a break or to head out. Or if you
need food, we can bring some.
OZZY
Yeah, what Z said. I'll be happy to help however I can.

Chuckling at their varying levels of concern, I reply quickly.

I'm fine right now. They just went back. I'll stick around until the baby comes. I don't think she's going to
make us wait long.

With that, I turn my phone off and tuck it away. Staring at the device won't help me in this situation. All I can do is be
patient. It's not like I'm even doing any heavy lifting anyway. I'm just here as support staff.
An hour goes by before I see a familiar face. Trey comes through the double doors with a wide grin on his face.
"She's here. She's healthy." He pulls me into a tight hug. "Fuck, man. That was the wildest moment of my life."
I chuckle. "I bet. Imagine my surprise when I noticed Harper hiding his contractions."
Shock lights up his face. "Really? That Omega of mine is in trouble. We'll have to discuss it later. He and our girl are both
napping right now. They were worn out from the delivery."
Nodding, I tuck my hands in my pockets. "How long until you get a room? I can help you bring the bags up and then have
one of the guys come grab me."
"We just got settled into one. That's why I came down. Gigi came about ten minutes after we made it back. She wasn't
wasting any more time on her arrival."
I pull out the keys and motion for him to follow me. We grab the bags from the car and head back inside. As we step into
the emergency room entrance, there's a loud siren behind us. I turn to watch the truck pull up and then a flurry of people rushing
to help.
Trey presses the button for the elevator as his head turns to watch too. Shouts go up from the medical staff. It sounds serious
as hell, and I send up a silent prayer to fate that this person survives whatever they're going through.
With where we're positioned, they have to pass right by us to get through the back. As they go by, the words they spoke
finally register.
"Omega male. Twenty something. Beaten badly. Signs of sexual trauma. Needs to get to surgery. Victim said to protect the
baby. Assuming pregnancy as there were no children on scene."
My heart breaks for the person on the stretcher. The ding of the elevator forces my attention away. I step inside with Trey as
they move past. I suck in a breath as a gap opens up enough for me to see the person on the stretcher. They're bruised and
bleeding so badly, it looks like a horror scene.
Worse than all that, a moment of terror hits right as the doors close. I exhale as a single word leaves my lips. "Mate."
Trey's wide eyes meet mine. "Oh, fuck!"
CHAPTER 1
DAVIE

Earlier that day

I EASE THE FRESHLY BAKED PIE ONTO THE COUNTERTOP . I’ M REALLY PROUD OF THE LATTICE WORK DESIGN AND HOW IT CAME OUT
this time. Usually something happens with the dough along the way to make it more messy than pretty. It either comes out
gummy and undone, or it winds up being a brick.
Both of those things tend to make me Dusty’s punching bag.
Of course, it doesn’t take much to make him angry.
The milk is too close to expiring. I didn’t make sure his blanket was warm before he got into bed. He has to give me money
to buy the groceries to cook him food.
All reasons he’s put his hands on me through the course of our relationship.
There is no telling what kind of mood he’ll be in when he gets home from work either. I simply have to do my best and pray
that it is enough.
Hopefully, I can escape before the baby comes. That’s my big goal. Survive until there’s a chance to make it out of here.
If I have this baby with him, then I’ll never be able to leave. He’ll keep us here forever.
Headlights flash through the front window. That’s my thirty-second warning that he’s arrived home. I look around quickly to
make sure nothing is out of place before he comes inside.
At 6:30 on the dot, Dusty Murphy walks through the front door of his cabin like he’s king of the fucking universe. If I didn’t
know how brutal he could be, I would say he’s handsome.
Outwardly he is.
It’s the inside that’s rotten.
Even dressing up in a sheriff’s uniform presenting the nicest smile doesn’t hide the devil in his soul.
I only wish I had seen it sooner. That maybe the veneer of his smile wouldn’t have fooled me.
But I was a fool.
Sometimes I think I still am a fool for being here.
There are days where things are good and magical. Those are the days I stick around for. They’re the reason I’m in this
predicament.
Dusty seduced me into his bed after a couple of drinks when I was new in town. Looking back, I know it was because he
saw me as easy prey. I had no one in Shelter Falls that I could run to whenever he messed up. And if I went to the police, I
would be laughed out of the building. It would be my word against his, and he knew it.
Besides, the abuse didn’t start until a few weeks in. I was so enamored with him and the attraction that I didn’t realize what
he was doing wasn’t normal. That me saying I was tired or not in the mood should have been a good enough reason. That the
word no should’ve been a good enough reason.
Dusty has never liked the word no. Especially not from me.
“Welcome home,” I say with a forced smile.
His eyes roam over me, trailing from the tip of my hair all the way down to my bare feet. I’m wearing one of his T-shirts
and a pair of his boxers. It’s the only thing I have any more since he decided all my clothes were no longer acceptable.
I’d outgrown them all and since Dusty is four times my size, it makes sense to wear his clothes. His words, not mine.
At first, I wanted to believe it was a sweet gesture. It was only as I went to look for one of my favorite shirts, and I realized
everything I owned was thrown out, that I understood it was about adding me as one of his possessions instead.
“What the fuck is this?” He stalks forward, his voice coming out as a growl.
I remain still, careful not to think I’m challenging him in any way. “What do you mean?”
“Are you talking back, Omega?! I’m taking about this fucking piece of shit!”
He lifts the pie, waving it in front of my face. I don’t have a chance to warn him it’s still hot before he’s dropping it to the
ground and cursing up a storm.
 Rushing over the broken glass to the sink, I turn on the cold water. “Here! Let’s run some water on it.”
Instead of seeing my movement as worried, he says, “You think I’m fucking stupid. You’re the reason I’m hurt. Fucking
Omegas...”
Dusty shoves me out of the way of the sink. I stumble a bit, my balance off from the watermelon sized kid I’m carrying
around. I grab the counter to hold steady.
With the adrenaline of the fight wearing down, I feel the burn in my feet from the glass I stepped over to get to the sink. I
nearly whimper as pain radiates through me.
If I weren’t pregnant, I could just reach down to pull the pieces out myself with tweezers. But with the belly, I don’t have
much choice but to ask for help. It’s that, or I attempt to go to the doctor tomorrow when he’s at work.
Even if I’d love to go with the second choice, I know that tracking blood through the cabin would only bring about more
issues for me.
Maybe I can word the request for help in a way that makes him feel special. Like he’s a superhero in the scenario. I know
that’s one of his fucking kinks. Pretending like he’s the cop coming to rescue the Omega in distress.
Fucking ironic, I know.
“Dusty, do you think you could help me —” I’m cut off when his fist connects with my face. I rush to cover my stomach,
ever cautious of where his punches might land.
“What the fuck else do you want from me? I give you a home and food. You don’t have to work anymore and still you’re
bitching at me. Why can’t you fucking say ‘thank you, Alpha’ like a good little Omega should?”
Before I can answer, he hits me again, this time hard enough to make me stumble. I collapse to the kitchen floor. Glass
pierces through my palms as I fight not to let myself land on my stomach.
“It was for the glass,” I wail. “It’s embedded in my feet. I can’t reach it. Please, Dusty.”
He mocks my words as his booted foot kicks my hip. “Please what? You expect me to spend my night pulling glass from
your feet when it’s your own damn fault? I’m the Alpha! You take care of me!”
I whimper when I grab a handful of my hair. Spit flies in my face under the barrage of more insults. He goes on and on, his
words rising in anger as his hands and boots take out their frustration on me. The burn from the pie pan did nothing to stop his
ability to form a fist it seems.
When I hear the sound of his zipper coming open, I sink into that safe place in my mind where I’m protected from his abuse.
It’s the only place I can be where my body is mine to control instead of being a toy for someone to destroy.
Minutes, or hell, maybe hours, pass before he eventually runs out of steam. He drops me with a grunt, then pulls up his
pants and grabs a beer from the fridge.
“Clean up that fucking mess. I’m going to bed so I don’t have to look at your pitiful ass anymore.”
With both my eyes swelling, I can only just barely make out his giant form as he chugs the beer, then tosses the can in the
empty sink. He trudges down the hall to the bedroom. I listen closely to the sounds of him getting ready for bed.
First, the sink turns on for him to brush his teeth. He spits and rinses, then starts the shower. It’s a quick rinse off before
he’s out and dropping into the bed. The squeaking mattress echoes throughout the cabin, giving me my first sign of relief since
he walked through the door.
Pushing up slowly, I take in the damage to my body first. The baby is still moving around, albeit much more rapidly than
normal. I’m sure my panic has something to do with it.
Other than that, I feel the weight of his attack deep in my bones. Nothing appears broken, but again, it could be from the
adrenaline high. The danger isn’t over yet. I’m stuck in the cycle, and no matter how much I wish he would, Dusty isn’t going to
change.
It’s time.
It has to be.
I’ve got to get out of there once and for all.
Decision made; I slowly rise to my knees. Grabbing the cabinet, I rise to my feet cautiously. I listen to the sounds of Dusty’s
snoring. The second I hear them and know he’s out, I shuffle toward the front door.
My movements are slow from the pain, but also from the weight of what I’m doing. One wrong noise, and I’m a dead
Omega. Dusty won’t take well to me attempting to get away from him. He might not want me the way he first did, but he’ll be
damned if I’m happy elsewhere.
The door is silent as I ease it open. So is the screen door. I make it through both before I have to face my next great battle
— the stairs on the porch.
Each one feels like another blow from Dusty’s fist. Agony is all I can recognize. It’s not the path down the driveway or the
concrete road. It’s not even the pouring rain that’s soaking me through.
One foot in front of the other.
One.
Two.
 One.
Two.
It’s the beat of my words, the shuffle of my bare feet across the uneven ground, that keeps me grounded and moving. I hold
my belly, the need to connect with the baby stronger than ever.
“We’ll make it. I promise, I’ll keep you safe,” I whisper through the whipping wind that’s battering across my face.
I walk for ages with no one in sight. I can’t be sure I’m even heading in the right direction, other than the fact that I left the
driveway and pointed myself towards town. At least, I think I did. My head is throbbing, so I could be wrong and walking
towards Plentywood instead.
Hopefully not since it would take hours to get there.
When the trail of woods breaks open to reveal the edge of Shelter Falls, I nearly weep. Keep moving. Keep going.
I get all the way Main Street before the first spasm hits my muscles. My hand reaches out for the side of the building closest
to help hold me up.
“Hey! Hey, you! Do you need help?” A voice cries out from somewhere close.
I nod, or rather I attempt to. It’s hard to tell at this point.
“Help,” I whimper.
Footsteps, multiple pairs, come my way. “Oh shit! He’s beaten to hell and back. Call 911!”
There’s more noise, but I can’t register any of it. My eyes close as my knees give out. Firm arms grip my hips, easing my
descent.
From there, I float in and out, my consciousness fleeting. All I can remember is telling the paramedics, “Protect the baby”
over and over.
“We’ve got you and your little one, sweetie. It’s ok now,” the female Alpha told me as she placed the oxygen over my face.
It’s the last thing I see before giving up.
CHAPTER 2
EZRA

Present Time

“CALM THE FUCK DOWN , E! YOU CAN ’ T JUST STORM DOWNSTAIRS TO RIP THE EMERGENCY ROOM APART ,” TREY TELLS ME WITH A
hand to my chest.
“How do I remain calm?” I cry out. “Did you see him? He’s hurting!”
Trey nods solemnly. “And I’m sure you’ll know more soon. Right now, we need to drop these bags off. I’ll go back down
with you if you want.”
I shake my head. “You should be with Harper. I can’t take you away from him and GiGi.”
Instead of arguing with me, he whips out his phone. He types in something, then presses it to his ear. “Hey, Ozzy. Change of
plans. Can you or Jerome get up here? Maybe both of you if you can convince Zeke and Rylan to watch the kids. I need backup
before Ezra loses his shit.”
I can’t hear the response on the other end over my snort of derision.
This asshole. Calling in the cavalry when I don’t need backup. All I need is my mate.
“He caught his mate’s scent. They’ve been rushed to emergency surgery. And they were pregnant.” He pauses. “Yeah, I
know. E likes to do things big too, Ozzy. See you guys soon.”
The elevator door opens right as he ends the call. We make our way down the hall to Harper and GiGi’s room. My plan is
to simply drop the bag before heading back downstairs, but a firm grip on my bicep stops me.
“Let. Me. Go.” I grind out to Trey.
“Not a chance. You’re going to stick around until I can trust someone will be there to support you for whatever information
you get downstairs.”
“Can someone fill me in on what’s happening?” Harper calls out from the bed where he’s holding and feeding a half asleep
GiGi. Guess they didn’t get that nap like Trey said. Her tawny brown skin is a perfect blend of her parents. I can’t help but
marvel over her despite the turmoil still raging inside me.
Trey dives into another brief explanation of what went on downstairs. It’s a little more detailed than what he said to Ozzy
on the phone, but I can understand why. Harper’s job at the Omega Rescue Center in town means he would be familiar with
abused Omegas and any procedures around them.
“Oh, my word! That’s horrible. I’m sure they’ve already called the sheriff in to get a statement. If there’s abuse involved
outside of his jurisdiction, it could be more complicated. We’ll have to wait until they can identify the Omega to know more.”
Before Harper can continue explaining processes, Gigi wails as if wanting the attention back on her. Harper lifts her to his
shoulder, his hand gently patting her back.
Trey’s smile is wider than I’ve ever seen. He’s a proud, beaming dad as he takes in this new special moment with his
Omega and baby.
“Let me take her from you. You need to rest, Omega,” my friend tells his mate as he reaches out for the freshly fed bundle of
baby.
Harper chuckles. “I’m not going to turn you down. I know how little sleep I’ll get once we’re home.” He turns to me. “No
matter what happens, Ezra, you have to take things slow. Abuse like that has lasting effects. Your mate may be skittish.”
“I understand, Harper. There’s nothing I want more than to make sure they’re both ok. The rest can happen at his pace.” My
answer is honest. I wouldn’t dare do anything to hurt him. All I care about now is getting to him so I can protect him from
whatever comes next.
“Ok, good. I expect updates once I’m up from my nap.” He winks before turning to his side and cuddling his pillow close.
“Ozzy should be here any minute. Have a seat or something, E. You’ve got all our support. Besides, I doubt there’s anything
you can do downstairs until Sheriff Bates comes in.”
I reluctantly take a seat beside him and GiGi on the couch. My head falls into my hands as I try to calm the worry pulsing
through me over the stranger currently fighting for his life.
 And the baby.
Oh, fates. He’s pregnant.
There are so many questions running through my mind. How far along is he? Is it a boy or girl? Was he already mated to
someone? Did he even want a mate if he already had someone special? Who hurt him and why?
I pour over the questions repeatedly until Ozzy arrives. He rushes through the door in a pair of sweats and an oversized
hoodie that’s obviously Jerome’s. I grin at his disheveled appearance.
“Any updates? What’d I miss?” He asks, slightly winded.
“Nothing new. I was told to wait for you so I didn’t do anything irrational.”
Trey hums from beside me. “You probably would have if I hadn’t stopped you. Your eyes were doing this thing where you
looked like you could bench-press a truck or something.”
I roll my eyes at his teasing before hopping up to stand by Ozzy. “Well, since my babysitter is now here, we’re going to
leave. I need answers, and I doubt GiGi has them for me.”
Ozzy follows my lead as I take off out of the room with a quick wave. Trey’s chuckles echo through the room up until I ease
the door closed.
“This is not what I figured would happen tonight,” Ozzy says as we step on the elevator.
I snort. “Who are you telling? I’m happy for Trey and Harper, and I’m glad I could help get them here, but I had zero plans
for this. I didn’t figure I’d get a mate.”
What I don’t tell him is that I didn’t think I deserved a mate for the longest time. After Jerome showed up in Shelter Falls
all those many months ago, and I took out my misplaced protectiveness out on Ozzy’s face — by accident of course — I learned
my lesson about gaining patience.
I secluded myself for a long time out of guilt. Once I took the time to evaluate my motives, I understood that patience was
something I needed to work on. I shouldn’t have jumped the gun to make assumptions about Ozzy and Jerome’s relationship.
That growth I’ve been working on couldn’t have come at a better time since it seems I’ve got a new battle ahead of me. One
laced full of questions and confusing scenarios.
“You said he was pregnant?” Ozzy asks.
I nod. “They said he was telling them to protect the baby. Plus, there was a pretty obvious swell in his stomach area. I don’t
know how far he was though or anything else really.”
The elevator opens in the emergency room area. I spot two men in sheriff’s uniforms standing at the nurse’s station.
“Sheriff,” I call out.
They turn to face me. I can see it’s Sheriff Bates and Deputy Riggs. Bates is an older guy who normally wears an easy
smile. It’s absent as of this moment. Riggs, on the other hand, is closer to our age, and he’s always been a bit broody. He’s also
the type that’s quick to issue a ticket without question. I should know since I’ve been caught by him a few times speeding at the
edge of town.
“Ezra. Osvaldo. How can I help you two?” Sheriff Bates says calmly.
“The Omega they brought in. The beaten one. I need an update.”
His eyes widen slightly, though the rest of him stays relaxed. Riggs steps in to answer. “What business is it of yours? Got
something to admit?”
I snarl at him. “Watch your fucking tone, Deputy. That’s my Omega you’re speaking of.”
Bates steps in front of me, his hands raised to halt my movement. Meanwhile, Ozzy puts a hand on my shoulder.
“Easy, E. Keep your cool,” Ozzy mumbles.
Sheriff Bates looks from me to my friend and back. “Let’s try that again. What do you know about the Omega that came in,
son?”
“I don’t know a thing. I only know that when they rolled him by, I caught his scent. He’s my —”
“Mate.” Bates says the word plainly. “Well, fuck. That complicates things.”
Riggs makes a disgruntled sound. “Are you kidding me? He could be the one who beat the guy up? How do we know we
can trust him?”
The nurse at the desk, a woman with a badge labeled Faith, raises her hand. “Um, gentlemen, I can help there. This young
man was helping get a couple in to the hospital because one was in labor. He’s been here for a bit. Plus, if you look at his
hands, you can tell he didn’t do the kind of damage that Omega faced.”
Both law enforcement officers take in my hands and feet. “He’s not in boots either,” Riggs agrees. “You said there were
boot prints on him, didn’t you?”
Faith nods slowly. “That’s what we could tell initially. I’m sure they’ve found other information since then. I know there’s a
lot you men don’t know yet, but I think having his mate there might help this young man. Maybe it’ll even get him to open up
about who did this to him.”
“Has he not said anything yet?” I ask her before anyone else can.
“He isn’t even awake yet. He’s still in surgery. They got the baby out, but there was other stuff to take care of for him. After
surgery, he’ll be resting for a while so his body can heal properly.”
“Should you be telling him all of this?” Riggs steps in front of me. “Aren’t there laws against giving out information?”
She shrugs. “Probably, but I don’t get in the way of fate. You going to arrest me, Deputy?”
“Not this time,” Bates steps in to say. “I need another favor, Faith.”
“Yes?” Her gaze is skeptical.
“Can you point Ezra and Osvaldo towards where they’ve got the baby? I’m sure it would help the newborn to get some skin
to skin. Who better to help than this Omega’s mate?”
Faith lights up. It’s clear she’s loving how this is all playing out.
“Of course! You two with me. Sheriff, I suggest taking a seat until this Omega is out of surgery. I doubt we need both of you
as well since there’s no immediate danger.” Her brow rises as she looks Riggs up and down.
Yeah, Faith. I can’t stand him either.
Ozzy and I follow her through the large double doors. We make our way around the maze of the emergency room area
quickly until we read a small closed off area labeled ‘Nursery.’
She turns to us, hand on the doorknob. “They’ll keep the baby here until the Omega is out of surgery. Then they’ll both be
sent upstairs. You want me to pass news along on the Omega’s status once he’s out of surgery?”
I nod and give her a thankful smile. “Yes, please, Miss Faith. I’m worried sick.”
“I figured as much. Don’t you worry, Ezra. The staff here is the best. Your Omega will be as good as new in no time.”
Faith doesn’t wait for my reply before opening the door. Inside the small room, there are three small beds that are
obviously meant to hold babies. Two are empty, while one holds a little blue bundle.
Stepping into the room feels natural. As assuredly as I know the Omega currently fighting for his life is my mate, I know
this child is mine too. It’s a strange feeling. I wouldn’t believe it if anyone else were to tell me the story.
I faintly hear Faith explaining the situation to the nurses. My gaze is locked on the precious angel in the bed. His tiny body
is wrapped so tightly, I almost want to unravel him to make sure he’s ok. If it weren’t for the serene way he’s resting, I’d
question the logic of the binding.
“Would you like to hold him, Alpha?” One of the nurses asks me, shocking me from my trance.
I nod wordlessly.
The moment he’s in my arms, everything clicks into place. My heart, my soul, has found the two missing pieces.
When I look over at Ozzy, I find him with tears in his eyes. “Did it feel like this for you with Jonathan? Was he so perfect
you felt like you couldn’t breathe?”
“Yeah,” he says right as he hiccups. “It felt like I’d been waiting for him my whole life.”
That’s exactly how I feel. I can’t say anything else. There aren’t words in existence that would do the moment justice.
Instead, I sit in the rocking chair the nurse points me to and hold this newborn baby I’ve claimed as my own. “Your papa is
going to love you just as much as I do. We just have to convince him to wake up.”
I send up a prayer to fate that my mate makes it through this. If he does, I’ll make sure no one ever lays a hand on him or our
precious son ever again.
CHAPTER 3
DAVIE

“DO YOU THINK HE’ LL WAKE UP SOON ? THE DOCTOR MADE IT SEEM LIKE HE’ D BE OK.” A VOICE I DON ’ T RECOGNIZE SPEAKS IN A
hushed whisper.
A different, also unrecognizable, one replies with, “I’m sure it’ll be fine. He’s got a lot of healing ahead of him.”
I’m wondering where the hell I am and why my fucking eyes won’t open when a soft cry rings out through the room. The
sound is distinct. A baby.
My baby.
That gets me moving. I force my eyes to peel apart. The first thing I notice is that I’m hooked up to a million machines and
laying in a hospital bed. The next is that I don’t feel a single thing. My entire body is like a floating pile of goo.
Turning my head towards the still fussy baby, my eyes widen at the sight of two men holding a tiny bundle — one with
blond curls and the other with short dark hair. Neither of them notices me since they’ve only got eyes for the tiny bundle.
If they were closer, I could scent them to know if they’re Alpha or Omega. I don’t feel threatened in any way, so I’m
guessing both are Omegas.
But who are they? Their clothes don’t suggest hospital workers. And I don’t know who else could possibly be in this room
with me if they aren’t staff or something.
I must make a sound of distress because both their heads whip my way. The dark-haired one gasps as the other’s jaw
tightens.
“You’re awake.” It comes out in a factual way, but I still nod to the blond man.
“I —” my voice catches when I realize how dry my throat is.
The dark-haired man approaches slowly. He stops at the small table beside me to grab the cup of water, then he eases it
toward me. With him close, I confirm my thoughts. Omega.
“Easy, there. I’m Osvaldo. That guy over there is Ezra. After you’re done, can you tell us your name? You didn’t have any
identification on you.”
I drink the water slowly as I nod. Cops, then. They must be with law enforcement, which of course makes sense. Just when
I feel like I can get away from Dusty, his coworkers show up and take my baby anyway.
Tears well in my eyes and the monitors hooked up to me go haywire. “Please don’t take him from me. Please…”
Ezra quickly moves around the bed to my other side. “Shhhh. Don’t panic. He’s right here. I’ll hand him right over. Do you
need help holding him?”
I’m too worked up to understand him at first. It takes him pressing the fussy baby against me for my heart rate to calm down.
Even so, it doesn’t stop completely.
He opens his mouth to speak again when the door opens to several people coming in. A couple of nurses in scrubs and a
doctor in a white lab coat. He’s followed by a large man in a sheriff’s uniform.
Despite the weakness I feel, I grip my baby tighter to my chest. I won’t let him or anyone else take my child away.
“You’re awake. That’s fantastic news. We were worried for a bit there. Ezra, Osvaldo, if you’d please back away so I can
check on the patient, please.” The doctor directs his attention to the two men flanking me.
I almost panic again, my arm reaching out for the closest person. Said person just so happens to be Ezra.
At the sight of my hand moving his way, he reaches out to snatch it. I grip him tightly, my instincts telling me I can trust him.
Funny how I couldn’t get those same instincts to work before with Dusty. I believed his flowery promises over the truth for so
long.
It feels different now though. Something about Ezra calms me. Maybe it’s the way he held my son. Or maybe the quick
manner in which he handed him over when I thought he was here to take him away. No matter the details, I feel safer holding
his hand.
“I’m not moving, doc. Sorry, but that’s a no go. Ozzy can get out of your way though.” Ezra directs the words to his friend
who immediately switches sides of the bed to let the doctor through.
The doctor checks my eyes and looks over the machines connected to me before telling me to take it easy. “You just had
major surgery. We had to take the baby through surgical methods, so you’re going to be weak for a while. Add in your injuries
and, well, you’re to be on bed rest for the foreseeable future. You’ll stay here a couple more days to heal, then you’ll need to
be somewhere where you have full-time help.”
“Not a problem, doc. He’ll have all the help he needs,” Ezra jumps in to say.
I don’t argue his point. It’s not like I truly believe I’ll get out of this anyway. Not with the sheriff keeping such a close eye
on me from across the room. His stare tells me he isn’t going to let this go. I should just enjoy holding my son for as long as I
can before I’m sent back to Dusty.
“Very good. We’ll leave you to speak with Sheriff Bates then.” The doctor motions for the nurses to leave with him. Then
it’s just me, my son, the two strangers, and an angry looking sheriff.
The uniformed man steps forward slowly until he’s at the end of the bed. He puts his hands on his hips, his stance solid.
“What is your name?”
I swallow thickly. No point in lying when the truth will come out eventually. “Davie.”
“Davie,” Ezra whispers from beside me. My eyes turn his way, noticing for the first time how intently his focus is on me.
Osvaldo stands behind him with a slight grin on his features. His hand is on Ezra’s shoulder, making me think maybe these two
are mates. I didn’t catch Ezra’s scent earlier, but there’s a familiarity there that tells me they have … something. Plus, they
don’t look anything alike. It can’t be a sibling bond I’m sensing.
Turning back to the sheriff, I wait for his next question. He doesn’t waste time before asking, “What happened, Davie? Who
attacked you? I want to ensure we get this person into custody ASAP.”
Despite knowing the words would come, I can’t help the flinch that comes. “I don’t think that will be as simple as you
think. It’s never mattered before.”
Memories of Dusty’s coworkers and friends coming over to the cabin through the years play through my mind. Those men
not only watched him beat me time and time again, but they also heard the verbal threats he tossed my way.
Sheriff Bates moves his hands to grip the rail at the end of the bed. His brow furrows. “What do you mean? Have you filed
a complaint before? I can’t recall it coming across my desk. Since I personally handle all Omega disputes, I’m confused by
your statement.”
Ezra squeezes my hand, drawing my attention from the frustrated man at the end of the bed. “We’re here to help you, Davie.
The only way to do that is to protect you from the person who did this to you, to ou — your son. Please tell us.”
Something about Ezra’s plea tears through the resistance I’m holding on to. It’s not like I can fight this battle alone. If Ezra
and Osvaldo are on my side, that’s at least two people against the sheriff’s office. It feels like a good start.
My son has calmed enough that I lay him on my lap. His little body fits perfectly atop my thighs. I stroke over the blanket
gently as I face Sheriff Bates and tell him the truth.
“The person who attacked me is Dusty Murphy. I’m sure you’re familiar with him.”
He recoils at my statement. “Dusty?”
I nod slowly. “Yes. He’s been keeping me in his cabin at the edge of town. I’m only allowed out to get groceries.”
Ezra growls from beside me, his anger radiating around the space. Sheriff Bates gives him a slow headshake, which does
little to calm the other man.
“I’m going to ask you to clarify, please, Davie. You’re saying that Dusty Murphy, one of my deputies, has been keeping you
hostage in his cabin for… for how long?”
“Months. Nearly a year. I don’t keep up with it anymore. It was too depressing. And yes, that’s what I’m saying. I figured
you knew since more than one law enforcement officer has seen him hit me in that time. I thought that was how you ran your
department.”
“Fuck!” The sheriff shouts the word, startling both me and my son. I shush him back to sleep as Sheriff Bates begins to pace
across my room.
“Bates,” Ezra demands. “You better fucking handle this, or I will. I swear to Fates, you will not have a department left to
run if I —”
“E! Chill for a second. Let the sheriff get his head on straight.” Osvaldo steps between the two men.
“I’m going to handle it, Ezra. You don’t have to worry about that.” He turns to me. “I need the names of every man who
witnessed this. There will be an evaluation process for the whole department, but I need to know who you can confirm from the
start.”
“They didn’t use names. I couldn’t tell you them all. I just know faces.”
At my words, Sheriff Bates yanks his phone from his belt clip. “I’ve got files for all my guys. Each has a photo. You just
point them out. It’s not a big list so this shouldn’t take long.”
He turns the phone my way and I go through them one by one, pointing out the two I recognize. The sheriff writes them
down on his notepad as I go. “There were others but maybe they were from a different place. Or maybe they moved on.”
“They could be from Plentywood or Silver Springs. We work with them closely since the towns are all close by. The
uniforms are quite similar too, so I could see how you thought they were all mine.” Sheriff Bates swears under his breath again
when he reviews the list of names.
 “You see who’s on that list, Bates?” Ezra says slowly.
Sheriff Bates nods at him. “I do.”
“No wonder the asshole Riggs wanted to get in here. He probably knows something.”
“Riggs was here?” My heart speeds up at Ezra’s words.
“He left,” Ezra tells me quickly. “The nurse out front told him he wasn’t needed. But still, if he even suspects what’s going
on, he could warn this Murphy guy.”
I appreciate Ezra’s use of Dusty’s last name. It gives a sense of space to the entire situation. Silly, I’m sure, since I’m in
bed holding a baby created by that man and bruises from the abuse.
“I’ll send out notice for one of the other guys to go pick up Murphy now. Riggs is likely at the station again. I’ll get them to
hold him there too. Now, Davie, I do have one more important question — one that might require some privacy.”
“Osvaldo can step out if you’d like. I’m not going anywhere. Especially not to leave you with someone who had no clue he
was harboring a predator. No offense, Bates.”
I frown at Ezra. “Don’t you want to go with your Omega?”
“Oh, Fates no! I’m not his. Ewww, no. Sorry E, but that’s absurd.” Osvaldo shivers and makes gagging noises.
Ezra’s scowl shifts into a smirk. “I’m not offended. It’s a mutual feeling.” He leans closer to me, hovering but not caging me
in. “He’s my best friend. One of three, actually. And his Alpha is a good guy. Someone that’s definitely not me.”
My mouth forms an ‘O’ shape as confusion swims through me. If they’re not together and Ezra was holding my son, then
what in the world is going on? It’s obvious he doesn’t work here either.
“I’ll just step out to give my Alpha and the rest of our friends an update,” Osvaldo says when the room gets too quiet.
As soon as he’s gone, Ezra shifts until he’s right up against the bed. “Ask your question, Bates. I have a feeling my —
Davie needs more sleep.”
My Davie? What in the world?
“Yes, well… The doctor mentioned signs of sexual trauma when you were brought in. I need you to confirm that their
findings aren’t mistaken.” His voice turns soft at the question. I can tell he doesn’t want to have to ask, yet I understand the
need for clarity.
I nod slowly before saying the words that will hopefully seal Dusty’s fate.
“There were less than a handful of times in which I ever agreed consensually. All of those were early in the relationship. I
can’t say I regret them all because one of them brought me this precious gift. So yes, Sheriff Bates, their findings were right.”
CHAPTER 4
EZRA

RAGE BARRELS THROUGH ME SO SWIFTLY, I FEEL DIZZY WITH IT . I WANT NOTHING MORE THAN TO GET A FEW MINUTES ALONE
with this Dusty Murphy fellow to show him what it means to feel an Alpha’s fist.
I’m familiar with his particular brand of asshole. The kind who thinks their position of power lends them the right to do
whatever they want to whomever they want.
Dusty probably thought Davie would never find the courage to speak up. He probably saw the sweet Omega as an easy
target for his sick machinations.
“Bates,” I bite out when he doesn’t immediately respond to Davie’s confession.
My mate. My precious mate has been through the worst life has to offer. Still, he’s managed to bring this precious baby boy
into the world and was brave enough to tell his truth when faced with the very thing that’s let him down.
“Give me a minute, Ezra. I’m trying not to lose my goddamn mind right now.”
I freeze at his tone. Bates never loses his cool. Not in all the years I’ve known the man has he ever shown more than his
professional side when in a tough spot.
“I didn’t mean to upset you so much,” Davie whispers. “I only wanted to be honest.”
“Don’t. Please don’t apologize, Davie. I should have known… should have seen what these men were doing. I’ve failed
this town. I’ve failed you. It’s the worst thing I could do, especially with a place like the ORC stationed here.”
The truth of that statement has me wincing.
“What’s the ORC?”
I turn at Davie’s question. “It’s the Omega Rescue Center. My friend Harper runs it. They take in Omegas running from
abusive situations and help them get back on their feet.”
His eyes widen. “You mean there was someone who could have helped all along? Somewhere I could have gone?”
We both nod to him, which only serves to unleash the tears he’s been holding back. My Alpha instinct to hold him is strong.
I haven’t seen any sign of him recognizing me as his mate, but there could be a number of reasons for that. All of them are good
reasons I shouldn’t climb on the bed beside him to comfort his pain.
I’ve never been the best at following reason though.
The minute I wrap my arms around his shoulders and tuck his face into my neck, Davie’s body collapses. He’s nothing but
sobs and heartbreak.
“Do you have everything you need, Bates?” I ask over the sound of my mate breaking.
He nods my way. “I do. More than I bargained for, but it’s everything I need to bring him down. Murphy won’t get to see
daylight again for a long, long time. Take care of him, Ezra. I’ll be in touch if there’s anything else I need.”
As soon as he leaves, I press my nose to Davie to inhale his scent. It’s still as strong as I felt downstairs, and any shred of
doubt about him being mine is demolished.
Mate.
Mine.
He’s perfect. More than I could have imagined. His strength, his protective instincts, and his heart shine brightly,
permeating the darkness of this entire situation. Even bruised and bandaged, he exudes grace.
Ozzy sticks his head through the door. “I’m going to grab us all some food. I figure you got it from here.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate you,” I reply honestly.
He grins, then waves goodbye before easing out of the space again. My phone buzzes in my pocket, likely from the group
chat getting more updates. I’ve been ignoring it since Davie’s eyes opened earlier. I will continue to do so until he falls asleep
again later.
We stay locked together for a while longer until his energy drains. I pull back far enough for me to take him in. He’s red
eyed, making the swelling look worse than before. Some of his bandaging shifted in the midst of me holding him as well.
Climbing from the bed, I grab some tissues and go to work cleaning him up. It’s a slow process since I don’t want to hurt
him. He doesn’t appear to be in any pain thanks to the IV in his arm. Still, I refuse to be another Alpha that’s let him down or
caused him pain in any way.
 “Who are you?” he asks once I’m done.
I grin at him. “I’m Ezra. Do I need to call the doctor back in here to check your memory?”
“My memory is fine.” He lifts the still sleeping baby into his arms, his gaze never leaving mine. “It’s so good in fact that I
remember not hearing why you’re here. You’re not a nurse, not a cop. Do you work for the ORC with your friend —?”
“Harper. Harper is mated to Trey. And no, I don’t work with them. They just had their baby tonight too, so this little guy has
a birthday twin.”
Davie tilts his head. “What are you not telling me?”
“I’m trying to be cautious of my words. I only ever want to be honest with you. I just worry what this news might bring.”
“I can take it. I promise,” he says adamantly.
Taking a deep breath, I start with, “Harper’s water broke, and I took the wheel when Trey started to lose his cool. I got
them here just in time to give birth. I was bringing the bags from the car inside with Trey when they brought you through the
emergency room. I scented you.”
Davie gasps. “Scented?”
I nod, my eyes locked with his. “I knew from the tiny glimpse I caught. Mate, my mind screamed out. Trey made me wait for
Ozzy to get here, then we went to find you. Faith, the nurse in the ER, worked her magic to get me to the baby since you were
still in surgery. We’ve been by your side since the moment you were released. I didn’t — couldn’t — leave your side.”
He doesn’t speak for several excruciating minutes. When he does, he says something so absurd, I feel my anger rising all
over again.
“Why would you want me, though? I’m damaged. He… he did so much more than just this. I don’t know when, or if, I’ll
ever be able to trust another Alpha like that. In that way.”
“It’s not about that for me. Would I love that level of intimacy with you? Of course. That’s the mate instinct. But beyond
that, and even more so, is my desire to protect you. My desire to ensure you and this baby have a safe place and the support you
need.”
Davie tilts his head back. “I can’t imagine that type of world. It’s been so long. I don’t want to be your burden.”
“You wouldn’t be. This is what I’m meant to do. It’s what I was put on this earth for,” I plead. “Besides, we have an entire
network of support ready to help the minute I say the word.”
Or send the text actually. It might be the wee hours of the morning, but there’s more than one person who would answer me
if I needed backup.
He turns his head to the side to face me. Even with his swelling and redness, I find him to be the most fascinating man I’ve
ever seen. I try to imagine what he looks like normally and immediately have to stop thanks to my biological reaction to such
thoughts.
“Tell me about them. These people.”
I grab a chair that we pushed out of the way earlier and scoot it to the side of the bed. Since he’s holding the baby, I ease
my hands on top of the blanket as I share with him all the important people in my life. Now to be in his life too.
“Well, let’s start with the inner circle. You’ve got Zeke, Ozzy, and Trey. Zeke is CEO of Medina Manufacturing. He’s mated
to Rylan, who also works there. Ry is in marketing with me. Ozzy is a caregiver for Zeke’s Dad, the former CEO. Trey is a vet.
He answered a call out at Harper’s house about loose cows, hence how the pair met. Ozzy’s Alpha is a man named Jerome.
They had a night together years ago, then fate set them on separate paths. Ozzy came home pregnant and was a single dad until
Jerome showed back up here not too long ago.”
Davie nods along to the story, his eyes widening along the way. I can tell he’s entranced by the entire thing.
“Next up, we have the general folks. The town is filled with people we’ve known our whole lives. Plus, I work with a few
amazing humans. Maeve is the snarky angel we all adore. Copper is just as bad as Maeve, but they tend to alternate their sassy
moments, so it works out. Zeke’s dad, who I mentioned before, has Timer’s so he’s sometimes a giant kid. It’s hard, but we all
work together to take care of him. Oh, and if you add in Rylan’s friends in Plentywood and their mates and kids, then it’s a
massive network. I think even some of them are linked to Silver Springs.”
“That’s a lot of people. Do you see them all every day and stuff?”
I shake my head. “Absolutely not. That would be chaos. I was just more so giving you an idea of how many people want to
be there for you. They’d all step in to help at the drop of a hat because they care. Not everyone is like him.”
“Logically, I get that.”
“But it’s more than just logic,” I finish for him. “I’m not asking you to trust us blindly. I’m only suggesting you keep an eye
on everyone and everything over the next several weeks. Let us help. Give us a chance to prove there are good people in the
world too.”
“I don’t have a problem with that.”
“But —” I know there’s more to what he’s thinking. I can see it written all over his face.
“I don’t even have a home. Everything I’ve ever owned is gone. He made sure of it, so I’d be forced to depend on him. I
can’t fall into that trap again.”
 He’s not wrong in his thinking. It must be difficult to know he doesn’t have a single leg to stand on without needing others
to step in for him.
“Let’s make a deal then.”
“A deal?”
“Yes, a deal. Since the doctor made it clear you need support in the beginning, you’ll let me help. You can stay with me,
and we’ll have a rotating door of friends stopping in to lend a hand. That way, it’s not just me helping you. Hell, I’ll even let
Sheriff Bates by on his downtime if that makes you feel safe. Surely you saw how much he cared.”
Davie nods. “I did.”
“Then, fine. He can come too. After you’re healed, if you want to move into your own place and get a job, I won’t stop you.
I only ask that you keep an open mind about us long term.” I motion between us to signal the mate bond.
“That all sounds reasonable.”
He yawns widely. I chuckle at how cute he looks as sleep fills his eyes.
“Why don’t you give me the little guy so you can sleep? I’ll be here when you wake up. Me or Ozzy since we’re the two
you know. I’ll have the rest of the guys come by so you can meet them too. Then you won’t be left with someone you don’t
really know.”
“I don’t really know someone from one meeting.”
“Maybe not, but we have to start somewhere. It won’t take long for my friends to adopt you anyway. They’re all very
excited about you.”
“They are?” He asks with cautious hope.
I smile as I lean down to take the baby. “Yep. Trey told them all I’d found you and now they’re eager to meet the man Fate
blessed me with.”
Another yawn comes in place of his response. I shake my head before he can speak.
“You need to rest. And maybe dream up a name for the baby. I can’t keep calling him little bean.”
“Bernie. His name is Bernie.” The sentence drifts off into a snore as whatever pain medicine dripping through the IV takes
my mate under.
Looking at the little bundle in my arms, I grin. “Bernie it is.”
CHAPTER 5
DAVIE

WHEN I WAKE UP AGAIN , IT ’ S TO FIND OSVALDO AT MY BEDSIDE HOLDING MY BABY AS HE MAKES FACES . I TRY TO ADJUST MYSELF
up higher, only to gasp as pain shoots through me.
So much for pain meds.
“Woah! Easy does it. They lowered your dosage because you kept sleeping so much. That and Ezra kept asking them if
you’d ever wake up. We can get something stronger if you need it.”
I wave him off. “No, that’s fine. I’d like to stay awake more, if possible.”
“That’s a good idea. It’s been two days since he properly talked to you, and Ezra is nearly feral with impatience.” His eyes
widen as soon as he says it. “Not feral like that. I just mean he’s grumpy.”
Laughing at his exaggerated words, I motion for the baby in his arms. “Can you hand him over? I’m in need of cuddles.”
“Of course. Bernie is the happy antidote to all of life’s worries. Here you go.”
It hits me then that I told Ezra the baby’s name right before I conked out. He took me at my word and didn’t dare try to argue
how stupid the name was or if I should change it.
As if sensing my thoughts, Osvaldo adds, “It’s really a great name. I mean, it fits with everything. Like there’s Bernie, Bern,
the Bernster. And he could one day be Uncle Bernie or Papa Bernie or even Grandpa Bernie. It fits in every aspect of his life.”
I laugh, then press a hand to my abdomen when more pain moves through me. “Don’t make me laugh. Please! That’s a good
point. It wasn’t anything I took into consideration though. It was just the one I liked best.”
“Well, I’m a fan. Of the name and the little guy.”
“Where is Ezra?” The question comes out of its own volition. I could swear I told my mouth not to utter it, but that brain to
mouth chain must be broken.
Osvaldo gives me a grin. “He just left to go take a shower and change. He refused to for the other days since he was
convinced you’d wake up. It took all of us in the group chat describing how ripe he smelled for him to go.”
I scrunch my face at the thought. “Then, I guess I’m glad he’s getting cleaned up.”
“Oh, he wasn’t all that bad. We just knew he was going to run out of patience sooner than later if he kept his post. Plus, it’s
the whole ‘watch a pot’ idea.”
“Watch a pot?”
“Yeah. You watch it and it will never boil. Like when you make pasta or mac-n-cheese. You have to step away and then that
baby will overflow.” He shrugs at the end as it to explain the illogical — though accurate — thinking.
“Thanks, Osvaldo. I’m sure you’d rather be doing anything else than babysitting me.”
His body goes rigid as he frowns. I don’t look in his eyes, but even in my peripheral, I can see the frustration in his brow.
“I’m not really babysitting you, though. I’m watching Bernie so you could rest, and Ezra could go change. It’s not a big
deal. Also, call me Ozzy. All my friends do.”
My heart warms at the sentiment. It’s been a very long time since I’ve had friends. I’m not sure I know how to be a good
one anymore, but I’m surely going to try with someone as nice as Ozzy involved.
“Fair enough. Thanks, then. Did you have plans you had to cancel to be here?”
He shakes his head. “Not today. Zeke is working from home with his dad today. Rylan is holding down the marketing
department with the team so Ezra can be here. Jonathan is at school. I’m free to be with you and Bernie as long as you need.”
“Oh.” It’s all I can reply with. I don’t really know what else I’m supposed to say when it’s obvious he’s being friendly.
Bernie takes the opportunity then to get fussy. I look to Ozzy for an answer since he’s been keeping up with things.
“He’s probably hungry. Let me make a bottle, then you can feed him.” I nod, then watch as he goes about mixing formula.
Bernie becomes a vacuum the second I slip the nipple between his lips. My kid drinks the food down like he’s starved for
it.
Ozzy and I laugh at his exuberance. I enjoy just holding him and doing all the papa-like tasks I’ve been missing out on.
I burp him when he’s done, then I go about checking his diaper. The second cool air hits him, pee comes rushing out. I flap
the front of the diaper back over him, then give Ozzy a wide-eyed stare.
“That’s the fun of having a boy,” he tells me with another shrug. “They have impeccable aim. You’ve got good reflexes
though, so it looks like you’ll be ok. We need to change the blanket though.”
I wait until I figure Bernie’s done, then I move quickly to get his diaper changed. Once I’ve got him up on my shoulder,
Ozzy tugs away the blanket that got pee on it. He comes back a minute later with a fresh one, then he demonstrates the proper
wrapping technique.
“They call it swaddling. It’s to mimic the baby in the womb. Mastering this is the secret to newborn parenting. You’ll get
more peace if the baby feels comfortable.”
Bernie drifts back to sleep with ease, leaving me with Ozzy and a muted sort of energy. We don’t have to speak to fill the
void. It’s nice to just exist with someone else who’s been through this before. Someone who had a kid alone and managed to
raise their baby until their mate found them.
Though my situation is a bit different. Bernie isn’t my mate’s child. And the man who did sire him is a downright terror. Oh,
and my mate is here now and ready to step in to help.
So maybe our situations aren’t that close at all.
A nurse comes in sometime later to check vitals and to take Bernie away for some tests. She promises to bring him back
quickly.
“I’ll go with them just to keep an eye if you want. I know it’s hard letting someone else take off with him this soon. When it
was Jonathan, I had Trey follow them.” He looks bashful to admit it right after the nurse slips out.
“Will you please?” I rush to say. It’s only a second later that he’s up and out the door following them.
My head falls back against the bed in relief. It’s nice to have the help, even if I don’t feel all that deserving of it. I’ve spent
so long thinking I’d have no kind of support once I left Dusty behind that it’s weird finding myself in the complete opposite
situation.
The door opens not long after Ozzy slips through. With a smile on my face, I call out, “Back already. Was Bernie —?”
It’s not Ozzy at the door. It’s Ezra.
My supposed mate.
He stalks forward slowly, his steps hesitant. “Davie,” he groans.
“What? What happened?”
Did something happen with Bernie? Is he here with bad news about Dusty and the others? Am I going to have to go back to
him? Is he going to try to take my son?
Warm hands cup the side of my face, stopping the spiral in my mind. “No, baby. It’s nothing bad. You were… you were
smiling. I hadn’t seen it yet, and I was a bit starstruck.”
“Oh.” I whisper what’s quickly becoming my catchphrase as I deflate.
Ezra’s eyes plea with me to understand… something. I don’t know what.
If it’s to trust him, then I’d like to think I’m already doing that much. I feel closer to him than I have to anyone else in ages.
But if it’s about us — about this mate situation — then I’m a bit more hesitant.
I want to believe Fate brought me someone amazing and caring to take care of me and Bernie. I want to believe that all my
problems are over and that I’ll be magically better once I leave the hospital.
Reality tells me that won’t be the case.
“I desperately want to kiss you, but I don’t want to scare you. Can I kiss your forehead? You have the right to say no and
mean it. I won’t be upset either way.”
I’m nodding before he can finish the thought. “Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. I don’t think you want to hurt me. You haven’t tried.” Yet the twisted part of my brain whispers. I ignore it as I
watch him slowly lean forward.
His lips gently press against a patch of skin that isn’t covered in bandages. I feel the touch radiate throughout my entire
body. It’s potent in a way a forehead kiss shouldn’t possibly be.
When he pulls back, I see his eyes shining with tears. “Thank you for allowing me this luxury.”
I feel cold when his hands fall away. I grab one of them, my fingers tight as I link him to my side.
Ezra’s gaze drops to the connection. One tear falls down, though he’s quick to wipe it away. Silently, he stands beside me.
The moment is too heavy for words.
A few minutes later, when Ozzy returns with the nurse and Bernie, I’m asked if I’d like to meet a couple of the guys. What
turns into ‘a couple’ becomes almost the entire group of them as the day progresses.
“None of you have any chill, do you?” Ezra grumbles when my room fills up.
“Not an ounce. It’s part of why you love us. I’m Zeke, by the way. Nice to meet you, Davie.” A dark-haired, handsome guy
in a suit steps forward. An older version of him stands beside him with a smirk. “This is my dad, Michael. My mate Rylan is
home with the babies.”
Ozzy raises his hand next. “I’m next! This is Jerome, my Alpha. My youngest is with Rylan, and Johnathan is at school,
you’ll meet them later. Here’s a picture.”
 The group chuckles as I take in a picture of a young boy holding a newborn bundle. The boy looks like the perfect blend of
the two men before me. It makes me wonder what Bernie will look like when he’s older. I hope for all of our sakes he looks
more like me.
“I’m Trey,” a man with a deep voice and a bright smile says next. “My mate Harper is upstairs with our daughter GiGi.”
“Nice to meet you all. I’m Davie and this is Bernie.”
They crowd around me, making appreciative noises over the sleeping baby in my arms. Their kindness makes me smile. It’s
especially nice that they haven’t brought up how badly bruised I am. I haven’t been up to look in a mirror yet, but I’m sure I
look like a disaster.
“We’ve already created a shared calendar for your family that’s been added to the group chat. We’ve got a schedule going
of who works when and who can come help,” Zeke says as he pulls his phone out. He turns it my way like Ozzy did with the
photo. On the screen sits a calendar with multiple colors and names.
I nod vacantly as I rush to understand what’s going on. “Group chat? Shared calendars? You all mean business, huh?”
Ezra snorts a laugh. “With Zeke’s work schedule, Ozzy’s time with Michael, and Trey’s workload, we’re always working
overtime to coordinate stuff. Adding you and Bernie into our lives is like hitting a new level in the game of life.”
My smile widens at his analogy. It doesn’t make me feel like a burden. I feel like I belong with these men, with this found
family. I can’t think of a time when I’ve ever been happier.
CHAPTER 6
EZRA

“I HOPE YOU FIND THINGS TO BE COMFORTABLE WHEN WE GET TO THE HOUSE. IF THERE’ S ANYTHING YOU WANT TO CHANGE, ALL
you have to do is say the word. I’m not attached to anything in there.”
Davie hums as he keeps his gaze on Bernie while I drive. It’s strange having them both in the backseat while I’m up front,
but I completely understand his need to be with his son all the time. Those two are a team. I’m merely hoping Davie lets me
join them once this trial period is over.
I’m not too proud to say I’m hoping everything goes so perfectly that he can’t imagine any scenario without me. Because
that’s honestly how I’ve felt since the first minute I saw him in that room.
We pull up to my house, and I try to see it how he might. It’s a small, modern place with two bedrooms and a nice sized
backyard. Unlike my friends, I didn’t expect my mate to show up anytime soon. This house was more meant to be a starter than
a forever kind of location. Granted, if I’m willing to sacrifice some yardage, there will be plenty of room to add on if we
needed to.
Stop getting ahead of yourself, E.
“Here we are,” I tell him once I open the door to help him out. He holds on to me for balance. I wish it were by his own
choice rather than necessity.
When he turns to grab Bernie, I stop his hand. He frowns. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say with a shake of my head. “You’re not allowed to lift anything right now. The doctor was clear about that,
remember? Let me get Bernie and then you can use me to balance for the walk inside.”
He blushes at having forgotten the instructions. “Sorry about that. I’m not used to actually having any help.”
I make a note to ensure he doesn’t have to lift a finger for anything so long as he’s with me. He’ll be so spoiled and happy
he won’t want to leave.
And loved.
I’m going to love him with everything I have.
I snap the car seat loose and then flip out the stroller attachment on the bottom. It’s a bit fancy, but since Rylan insisted it
was the best out there, I felt it was the best choice.
We make a very cautious, very slow journey to the front door as a trio. Once I get them to the front, I ease the stroller and
then Davie up the single step that makes up my front porch.
“It’s not much,” I warn him before sliding the lock free.
When we step inside, he looks around the space with a judgement-free stare. I roll Bernie into the living room, then remove
the car seat attachment completely to set him on the floor.
“Is it weird to be relieved about your place? I was really worried it would be like —?”
His.
He doesn’t have to say who he’s thinking of for me to know exactly who he was thinking of. It had been on my mind too. I
didn’t want to be a reminder of the Alpha who had taken advantage of him, but without asking him outright, there was no way to
know.
Plus, it wasn’t like I could redecorate my house in a few days. At best, I could have redirected us to the B&B in town until
I made some changes.
“Oh, really?” I say casually instead of letting my rampant thoughts out.
He nods as his fingers trail over the back of the couch. “Yes. That place was a cabin in the woods. Very secluded and
rustic. I’m a much bigger fan of the modern style. More now than ever.”
I preen at the comment. “That’s good. If you’re up for it, I’d like to show you the rest of the place too before you settle in to
relax.”
“Can we bring Bernie along?”
“Of course! He needs to see it all too.” I pick him up and then motion down the hall. “The kitchen and dining room are
obviously right here. It’s all pretty open so I could have friends over and never feel like I was missing out on conversation.
Down here, we have the bedrooms.”
 I don’t outright tell him what I did manage to set up for him. Like I said, I might not have had time to do everything, but I
definitely knew my spare bedroom needed an upgrade. With the help of my friends, the space is just perfect for the two
precious guys in my life.
“This is my room. It’s nothing special. I have a bathroom through that far door and a closet on the other side of it.” I wave a
hand in the room, then turn swiftly to the door across the hall.
Davie chuckles. “I’m guessing the thing you’re excited about is behind this door. You look ready to explode with
excitement.”
I shrug at the teasing. It feels good to have him loosen up with me.
“That’s probably an accurate description. This is your room for as long as you’d like. You and Bernie.” I don’t wait for his
response before opening the door.
His gasp makes me feel like I’ve won the damn lottery. It makes all the hard work and rushing to coordinate stuff worth it.
“How did you do all this?” Davie steps into the space. He does a slow spin, his eyes wide as tears trail down his cheeks.
If he weren’t also smiling, I would worry I messed up.
“I told you before that this community works together. The guys all pitched in with suggestions and then even helped build
all the furniture. The walls were thanks to a friend of a friend with a soft spot for kids.”
Efrain, an artist over in Silver Springs, came out as soon as he heard about it from Camden, who had heard it from Ozzy.
Apparently, the pair became fast friends after Cam took a picture of Ozzy’s family at a festival a while back. They kept in touch
and since Cam had said something about his friend being a good artist, Ozzy took the chance to call in a favor.
“I can’t ever say that my time with him was worth it, but I can admit that Bernie is the best thing to have happened to me.
And now this… you… I can’t believe it’s all real. I’m so scared I’ll wake up to find I’ve hallucinated everything.” Davie’s
smile dims at his confession.
Moving into the space with Bernie at my hip, I ease the carrier to our feet as I cup Davie’s face between my hands. I’d done
the same motion in the hospital, and he’d seemed fine. As I hoped, he doesn’t flinch away from me. His eyes close as more
tears fall.
I wipe each one away as they reach my thumbs. “There is nothing about this that isn’t real. You escaped. You ran, and you
found safety. Bernie is very, very real, as am I. We’re here for you, for anything you need or want. I don’t want you to feel like
you can’t tell me anything, Davie. That old life is gone. This is the start of something new — of something that could be
amazing if you trust yourself to let it happen.”
The words come out in a rush as I try to stop the swell of his tears. If anything, the truth only seems to send him reeling even
more. I pull him to my chest in a risky move that leaves me unsure of his response.
Rather than panic at my hold, Davie sinks into me like I’m his safe place. He leans into me, using me for the support he’s so
desperately in need of.
With Bernie asleep at our feet and my mate in my arms, I accept the rightness of the entire situation. I’m not happy he’s
crying, but I accept the reality that there are more tears in our future together as he heals from the suffering he’s faced.
“How about I get Bernie in his new bed, and you can take a proper shower?” I ask him after his sobs slow down.
Davie keeps still for a moment before nodding. “I think I’d like that. You didn’t show me the bathroom on the way in
though.”
“Wait right here and then I’ll get you everything you need.” I move him to lean against the dresser that’s by the bedroom
door as I unbuckle Bernie and scoop him from his car seat. The sweet angel doesn’t make a bit of noise as I lay him down in
his crib. I press a kiss to my fingers then lay them over his blanket before turning to Davie.
He’s watching me with a soft smile. It warms me all the way through. I hope I can give him many more of them during his
stay.
And if I’m lucky, he’ll agree to make the stay permanent. As in forever. Forever with me.
By the time I get Davie in the bathroom, he’s wincing and heavily leaning on me. He perks up a bit at the huge shower I
have, though it doesn’t hide from me just how hard it is for him to support himself.
“I have an idea,” I say aloud before I overthink it.
“Ideas are good.” My mate’s tone is teasing.
Rolling my eyes, I ease him up onto the counter and step back. He eyes me closely, a sense of interest shining through.
“This is merely to ensure I can help you properly, not anything more.” I raise my hands to show my innocence. “What if I
got in the shower with you?”
“What? You want to —?”
“NO! Well, yes, but not now. Not any time soon, even. I’d keep my boxers on, and my help would be purely to ensure you
don’t fall and hurt yourself any further. You can totally say no. It’s only an idea.”
Davie bites his lip, eyes going from me to the shower and back. “Ok,” he breathes out after a few long, drawn-out seconds
of silence. “No funny business though.”
“Not an ounce of funny. I’m actually boring. Terribly so. Nothing funny here.”
 He laughs, then grunts and presses a hand to his stomach. “No, really. Nothing funny at all — body related or otherwise.
Laughing hurts so bad.”
“Understood. I’ll just have to keep the sentences short. I struggle with not attempting to make others laugh. It’s a personality
defect,” I admit.
Davie eyes me before raising his arms to signal he’s ready for the shower. I turn the water on behind me to warm up, then I
move over to him to strip away the baggie outfit the nurse helped him into earlier.
As each inch of skin is revealed, I feel an odd mix of longing and anger. Longing because, fuck me, I want him so badly. My
mate is here in my home, in my arms, and I can’t have him. And anger because the bruising across his body is so mottled, he
looks like someone tried to paint his skin. I can’t fathom how he’s even able to sit upright. It has to be excruciating.
Once I have him stripped to his boxers, I motion for him to wait. “Let me get down to mine, then we can stand you up and
get in.”
His head bobs, then he’s patiently watching me as I strip layer by layer. I fight against my body as my cock hardens. The
fucker doesn’t care about how that might scare our Omega. All it can see is how focused Davie is on my body and the slight
touch of heat in his gaze. I’m sure it’s the mate bond and nothing more. He’s too hurt, too fresh out of his nightmare to want
anything more.
Plus, I promised him I wouldn’t push for anything. I’ll be damned if I let him down like the other Alphas in his life have.
“Let’s get you clean,” I tell him.
It takes everything I have to keep my hands to myself — at least in that way. I have to hold him close to keep him upright in
the shower. That, along with needing to clean him properly around his bandages, means we’re very well acquainted with one
another by the time I’m rinsing the last of the soap away.
Davie’s pupils are wide and his body nearly liquid when I pull him from the shower. I dry him carefully, my gaze focused
only on each task as I complete it. I ignore the way his cock has grown with my touch. I damn sure ignore how hard mine is.
Nothing can come of it. Nothing.
“Thank you,” he rasps once I have him dry.
“You’re welcome. Do you want to wait here while I grab you some more of my clothes to wear? I can help you to the bed,
to your bed.” I correct myself quickly, so he doesn’t misinterpret my meaning.
The haze of lust disappears with my words. I’m not sure if it’s from the finality in my tone or if he’s simply come back to
himself.
It honestly doesn’t matter which it is. All that matters is that I keep my word.
I will not fuck my mate.
I will not fuck my mate.
I will not…
CHAPTER 7
DAVIE

I WONDER IF THE DOCTOR SLIPPED ME SOMETHING BEFORE I LEFT THE HOSPITAL.

He had to have done something. It’s the only thing I can think of to explain why I’m upset when Ezra doesn’t do anything
more than clean me off and put me to bed. In my own room!
Well, I’m sharing with Bernie, but that doesn’t count. My son is an extension of me. Besides, he’s been so quiet since we
got here. The poor kid is either exhausted from all the chaos of his birth and the hospital, or I’m the luckiest Omega to ever
give birth.
Could be both, honestly.
Back to the sexy Alpha in the other room getting clothes for me. I don’t understand why my body feels pulled to him so
strongly. And so soon after Dusty too.
My brain keeps telling me it’s wrong. I can’t possibly be ready to move on. Not after all the recent events.
I was beaten and assaulted less than a week ago. It makes no sense.
Yet… it kind of does. The more my body has healed, the stronger I’ve felt the pull to Ezra. It wasn’t until we were in the
shower, and I could finally smell him properly, that it hit me hard.
Mate.
He’s my mate.
His scent had my mouth watering and my cock begging for relief before I could put the pieces together. I would have been
embarrassed if not for his own length pressing into my side as he held me up.
Even so, there’s nothing that can happen right now. Not when I can barely hold myself together long enough to shower. Not
when I can’t even lift my baby’s car seat alone.
I’m dependent on Ezra for everything. Starting a relationship of any kind with him when he holds all the power is just
setting us up for failure. I understand that enough to know I have to contain my emotions for a bit longer.
When he comes back in to get me dressed, I don’t focus on anything other than moving to follow where he leads me. No
matter how much I want to look him over again, I keep my eyes closed, giving him the illusion that I’m a second away from
passing out asleep.
Once I’m in the loose clothes, Ezra pulls back the covers and eases me to my side. “There you go, baby. Time for some
rest.”
I don’t respond to the sweet words. It’s not like I really could anyway. I’m too choked up to even speak.
With my eyes closed, I can’t see him watching me, but I can feel him. He doesn’t say anything for several long seconds. It’s
like he’s waiting to make sure I’m truly asleep.
I sink into the bed, ready to let myself succumb to exhaustion. Ezra can stay to watch me sleep for all I care at this point.
His voice is whisper soft a moment later, the sound a secret between us even if he doesn’t realize it. “I promise to keep you
safe. Both of you. I’m so sorry you were taken advantage of, and I swear to you I will not lay a hand on you until you ask it of
me. My heart is yours whether you accept me or not. I can never love another as much as I’ve begun falling for you and our son.
Rest, baby. I’ll keep the monsters at bay.”
I feel lips press to my forehead as sleep tugs me under.

“S HHHH, BERNIE. YOU NEED TO LET P APA GET SOME REST .” A ROUGH VOICE BREAKS THE FOG OF SLEEP I’ M HOVERING IN THE
next morning. “You did so well last night, kiddo. Let’s get you out of here so he can rest some more.”
I peek through my lashes to watch Ezra carry my son from the room and ease the door shut. Sealed in the room alone, I let
the façade of being asleep fall away. I stretch big across the bed, the aches throughout me feeling a touch better than before.
From experience, I know I’ve still got a couple of weeks before I’ll look less like a punching bag, but at least I’m not in
excruciating pain. It still hurts like hell. It’s just a touch more manageable now that I’ve had a shower and some actual sleep.
 Speaking of which, I turn to the alarm clock I saw the night before. I nearly shriek at the time. It’s nine in the morning.
Nine? What the hell happened last night? I’m sure Bernie needed to be fed.
Ezra’s words come back to me. “You did so well last night.”
Did he wake up with him all night? I bet he did.
It hasn’t slipped my mind that he called Bernie our son last night when he whispered his goodnight promises to me. The
mate bond would definitely make Bernie his in a legal sense once we become mated, but I don’t think that’s what he was
talking about. This claiming from Ezra felt more like he was telling the universe he planned to step up to be the father I thought
my son may never have. That he’s going to be my partner through every part of it — late night feedings included.
Climbing from bed isn’t easy, but I manage to get myself upright. A few shuffles to the door later, and I’m opening it up to
follow the sound of humming coming from the kitchen. Bernie’s not crying anymore, so I can only assume Ezra managed to get
him settled.
I’m proven right a minute later after I make my way down the hall and get a view of the kitchen. My mate is rocking my son
— our son — in his arms as he feeds him a bottle.
Desire ricochets through me seeing him like this. So open and vulnerable. He’s everything I thought an Alpha would be
when I started dating. He’s doted on me, he’s been protective, and it’s obvious to me he’s a family man. His friends speak
highly of him and all he’s shown me is support in every way I’ve needed it.
I still think it’s too soon to push for anything physical, but maybe I can show him I’m in this thing with him in other ways.
Maybe I can just be. No overthinking. No closing myself off. Just me letting fate lead us through whatever she’s planned.
Ezra catches me watching him and startles. “Oh, crap. Totally didn’t see you there.” He frowns. “You ok? Do you need any
help getting around?”
I shake my head as I move slowly into the kitchen. “I’m feeling incrementally better. Moving around will help.”
He smiles at me. “That’s good. I’m glad.”
Needing something to fill the silence, I lean forward to press a kiss to Bernie’s little head. He scrunches his face around the
bottle, but otherwise doesn’t make a peep.
“Do you want to hold him for a while after he’s done? I can get you two settled on the couch, so you’ll have time together.”
Ezra makes the suggestion like he didn’t just read my mind. I’d been wondering how we’d finagle past the heavy lifting rule
the doctor gave me.
“I’d love that actually. Do you mind?”
“Why would I mind? He needs to learn his papa. You two haven’t had a whole lot of time with everything that’s happened.”
I nod as I allow myself to sink against the counter beside where he stands. “That’s true. Doesn’t mean I can’t take your
feelings into account.”
It’s so hard not to admit that I heard him the night before. That I know he thinks of Bernie as ours.
“My feelings are simple. I want both of you happy and here with me. So long as that’s happening, then I’m good.”
I smile so big my face hurts. I’m surely pulling at the slowly healing wounds, but I don’t much care. This man, my mate, is
amazing. I can’t not express how happy he makes me when he’s this stinking sweet.
“Another one,” he whispers.
Neither of us has to speak to know he means my smile. He’s been openly keeping a tally of them since he walked in to see
that first one.
Bernie finishes his bottle right about that time, drawing Ezra’s attention away. He burps the tiny bundle of baby, then
motions for me to go to the couch. He gives me the space to move on my own, yet I can feel him hovering and ready to catch me
if I need it.
I ease down on the comfy couch, my body shifting until I feel tucked in and comfortable. Ezra frowns down at me. He
shakes his head, turning to the coffee table. While keeping a tight hand on Bernie, he lifts the top to reveal a storage bin full of
pillows.
“Here we go,” he says after tugging out three of them and propping them all around me. “That’s better.”
I grin up at him, then reach for Bernie. My son is eased in my arms like the precious cargo he is. I watch as his tiny eyes
crack open.
“Hey baby boy.” I whisper the words softly, too afraid to be loud in the moment. Ezra eases on the couch beside us, his
gaze locked on the interaction.
The stillness of the house makes every little sound, every little thought, feel loud. Trusting my gut instinct, I turn to look at
the Alpha beside me.
“Ezra.”
“Yes, Davie?” I’ve noticed the way he says my name. All deep and with clearly suppressed longing. I can feel the need
moving through my body. Rather than let it out, I continue with the plan.
“Can you come closer?”
His eyes widen a second before he nods and moves over.
 “Like this?”
I shake my head. “Closer.”
He moves again. “Here.”
“Good. Now lean forward.”
I see the flare of heat in his gaze. It’s quickly squashed by hesitancy. He doesn’t want to push me. I nod to encourage him to
keep coming.
When he’s only a breath away, I lean over and press a kiss to the side of his mouth. It’s close to something more intimate
while also being simple enough that I don’t become overwhelmed with dark memories.
His hand flies up to press against the spot. I lean back, my cheeks stained red.
“Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you, mate.”
CHAPTER 8
EZRA

Seven weeks later

“BERNIE IS LOOKING GREAT , DAD . YOU’ RE DOING GOOD WITH THE FEEDINGS STILL?” THE DOCTOR ASKS .
Davie nods as I bounce a sleepy baby in my arms. “He’s doing really good. Is it normal that he’s so quiet? He rarely ever
cries,” my mate asks.
The man in the white coat chuckles at the question. “Most parents ask the opposite questions. You’re very blessed to have a
baby who is this mild-mannered. To answer you though, it’s nothing to worry about. He’s just a chill kid. That’s not bad.”
Davie hums from beside me, as if to say he’s still not sure. I shake my head at him. This is only one of the many times he’s
brought it up. Every single instance, I’ve reassured him that Bernie is just a relaxed kid. He was born from a turbulent situation.
It’s no wonder he wants some peace now.
Granted, I don’t say the last part to my mate. He’s been doing so well in the weeks since everything happened that I make
sure to avoid anything that could be a trigger.
It helps that he’s basically been under house arrest due to his healing. He didn’t have to tell me he wanted to stay close to
home for me to know that was what he needed.
Outside of being very obviously bruised and beaten, he could barely get from one room to another without being exhausted.
That first day he came out of the bedroom and sat on the couch with Bernie, the pair of them napped for two hours straight —
Bernie from a full belly and my mate from pushing himself so far.
That was also the day he kissed me. Well, my cheek. The corner of my mouth. It’s all semantics.
The point is that he kissed me. His lips pressed to my skin of his own choice.
But they haven’t since.
It’s like it was a one-time thing, and I have no idea why. Maybe it’s because he’s been distracted by other stuff. Or maybe it
was a simple thank you for giving him a safe place to land.
Either way, I keep the memory on a loop in my mind when I’m alone. It keeps me from demanding more from him or
claiming him the way I want to.
The doctor’s next words don’t help me much either. “Now then, as for your health, is everything still ok? I know we spoke
at your two-week appointment, but I always like to check up once you’ve brought the baby in. There could be developments
since then, especially when activities pick back up.”
My eyes widen as I realize the implication. He’s talking about sex.
“All good, Doctor!” Davie rushes out with a squeaky voice. “No worries.”
That earns us a curious look, though he doesn’t push. “Well, then… you’re all good. This little guy needs to come back for
shots soon. I’ll have the nurse schedule you an appointment at the front.”
He leaves us alone, a thick tension between us now that wasn’t there before. Not because I want to push him. It’s more that
I’ve become aware of new information that changes the situation. I won’t act on it, but it’s still… different.
“I didn’t —” Davie starts.
“It’s ok,” I tell him. “None of my business.”
His frown sends my heart racing. He doesn’t say anything before the nurse knocks and brings out the dismissal paperwork.
We settle the bill and leave, then I’m left alone with Bernie while he goes straight to the bathroom. Knowing the little guy
needs to nap, I swaddle him tightly and lay him in his crib. With baby monitor in hand, I take off for the kitchen to get some
water. I feel parched after the events from the appointment.
Davie comes out of the bathroom while I’m guzzling the water down. My eyes trail him as he makes his way into the
kitchen with me.
“Ezra,” he says softly, almost like he’s unsure of what to say.
I nod. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m not going to get upset.”
“I know you won’t. It’s not that. It’s… about Bernie and me living here.”
 Panic grips me. The glass in my hand shakes. I ease it to the counter, completely unprepared for this conversation. I thought
I had more time. I didn’t think he’d want to leave.
It makes sense though. Especially now that he’s healed. I’d originally promised they could stay until he was well enough to
take care of himself. Guess we’ve reached that point.
I force myself to swallow past the bile in my throat. “We can do whatever you want. I’m sure the guys will help you move
your stuff whenever you’re ready.”
He jerks back, his expression full of shock. “Move? I wasn’t… that’s not. I was going to ask if you’d be ok with us being
here longer. I don’t want us to go. Is that what you want?”
“Fuck no!” I nearly shout. In a softer tone, I tell him, “I want you here always. You don’t have to leave. This house is yours
too. Yours and Bernie’s for as long as you want.”
“Why did you think I wanted to leave?”
“I… you haven’t… and we…” I shrug once I realize my mouth and mind aren’t working together properly.
Davie smiles as he steps forward. “There’s another thing. A confession of sorts.”
“Ok. Lay it on me. I’m listening.” My heart races as I try to run through a list of things he could possibly bring up next. I
can’t settle on one that makes sense given the first half of the conversation.
“The first day you brought me here — do you remember it?” At my nod, he steps closer to me. “After my shower, you took
me to bed, dressed me, and tucked me in.”
“I remember,” I admit as the memory sweeps over me.
“You thought I’d gone to sleep, but, well… I hadn’t. I heard you. I heard the promises you made me.” His hand presses
against my chest. It’s only then I realize he’s close enough for me to touch. Close enough to hold.
I keep my hands to myself though. I remember the promise I gave him. And in that promise, I was specific.
“What are you saying, Davie?”
He ducks his head for a moment before looking back up at me with fire in his gaze. “I’m not ready for everything. I don’t
know when I will be. But I’d really like to try. To feel. With you. Only if you want to though. I totally understand if you don’t
—”
I cut his words off with a hard press of my lips against his. A growl rumbles through my chest as I wrap him in my arms.
The feeling of him against me is enough to have me erect in seconds. My cock presses between us, eager as fuck for a taste.
Down, you little shit. Not yet.
I ignore the desire to rut and knot him. Instead, I focus on the way he reacts to my touch as I slow the kiss down. He
whimpers and mewls, his body slowly moving against mine like he’s as needy as I feel.
“Tell me what you’d like, mate. I’ll give you anything. Give you everything. You only have to ask.”
“Your touch. Your mouth. I don’t care as long as it’s not… I can’t do that yet. I don’t know when or if I will be. Is that ok?”
I cup his cheeks. “We could never reach that point, and I will still be the happiest Alpha in the world. Your comfort is the
most important thing. There is more to this life than penetration.”
He chokes out a laugh at my blunt wording. “Noted.”
With our unspoken agreement, I meet him halfway in a kiss I feel all the way to the tips of my toes. It’s blissful in a way
nothing else in life has ever come close to.
“Can I touch you?” I ask him between teasing pecks against his lips.
“Yes. Please.”
My hands move over his clothes, tugging and pulling until I’ve run over every inch of him. I don’t linger in one spot too
long, though I do catalogue the places he arches into my touch. Those are the areas where he needs more, where he isn’t
uncomfortable. I also take in the places where he tenses. Thankfully, there are only two — his ass (obviously, given the sex
rule) and the back of his neck. I don’t want to think too hard on why the latter is an issue. I don’t need to turn homicidal.
The more we kiss, the more worked up I feel. I can tell Davie feels the same. He practically climbs me, his grip tighter and
tighter each time I pull back for air.
“Baby,” I say around a laugh. “Let me make you feel good. Come here.”
I tug him over to the couch. Dropping onto the cushion, I hold his hips to keep him upright.
“What now?” He’s breathless and so fucking sexy standing in front of me. I wish I could just watch him for hours. I don’t
think I’d ever tire of it.
“I’d like for you to strip to as comfortable as you feel and then climb on my lap. You’ll be on top and in control. You can
say ‘no’ at any point. I’ll stop right away.”
He nods and bites his lip as his eyes roam over me. It takes every ounce of patience in me to wait for him to make the first
move. When he does, I’m relieved to see how confident he appears.
His shirt goes first. Without the oversized tee, I can see how small my Omega truly is. It shows just how delicate he truly is
and how easily that bastard took him for granted.
Next go the shorts I gave him to sleep in. That leaves him in only a pair of boxers. Boxers that do nothing to hide the
erection beneath the fabric.
Davie eases into my lap, his gaze locked with mine. “Will you make me feel good, my mate? Please?”
“Yes, baby. I can do that.” With a calm I don’t feel, I raise my hand and glide it over his collarbone. I trail against his skin
carefully, my touch featherlight. He could easily push me away and stop this at any second.
I allow myself to trace over his bare skin the same way I did when it was clothed. This time is so much more intimate, so
much more engrossing. I can feel the chill bumps as they form, see the quiver of his body as his breathing picks up.
I’m more attuned to him than I’ve ever been to anything. His heart and mine are in sync, the bond tugging me closer and
closer to him as the seconds pass.
“Your mouth… put your mouth… on me,” Davie pleads, his hips rocking forward.
Pulling my touch back, I allow my mouth the luxury of tasting his skin. I run my lips along his shoulder and up his neck. I
lick across the seam of his lips, backing away quickly when he tries to lock me in a kiss.
“Not yet. I need to have more of you. I don’t want to stop. Please.” I confess my desires when he whines. “Will you lean
back? Let me have more.”
He tilts away from me, his hands moving to my knees to prop himself up. My mouth follows him back so as not to lose
contact.
His nipples are hard, as if they’re beckoning me. I swirl my tongue around them, tasting the flavor of his skin and earning a
jagged moan. I play with them for a while before allowing myself the freedom to move around.
My path trails over his abs and down his ribcage. I sweep up and down, covering all of him and finding where his scent is
deepest. I avoid biting, despite wishing I could nibble at his skin. Pain isn’t the plan, and I don’t want to do anything that could
remind him of another time or another person.
Pleasure.
Love.
Delicacy.
That’s what I want him to think of when he’s with me. I need him to know this, to feel it, deep in his bones. It should be
ingrained until it’s second nature so I’m never a threat.
“Yes. Lower. Please. I trust you.”
I pull my mouth away, then turn us so we’re sideways on the couch. He squeals, his hands dropping forward to land on my
chest.
“You’re going to fuck my face. This way, you still maintain control,” I tell him.
His eyes widen as his breathing picks up. “That’s… you’re… are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”
I grin up at him. “You won’t. I promise, mate. Take what you want. Use me for your pleasure. I’m giving you my full
consent.”
Davie swallows thickly, then raises up to shimmy the borrowed boxers off. His cock springs free, hard and dripping. His
body drags across my chest. I send up thanks to Fate that I sleep shirtless so I can experience the skin-to-skin touch of him.
It’s also amazing because his slick spreads over me from navel to neck. I’m perfectly marked by my mate without him even
trying to. That’s how fucking natural all this is for us. Nothing is forced — and it never will be.
“That’s it. Legs by my shoulders. I’ll tap your hip if I need you to ease up.” I offer the contingency to get him to relax. I
know he’s afraid he’ll hurt me. Little does he know my gag reflex is non-existent. It’s partly why I’m not worried about our
future. I’ll suck his cock for the rest of my life and be happy.
He gets into position, then watches closely while easing his cock between my lips. I take him slow the first time, allowing
my throat a chance to open properly for his length. Davie sighs as his hips reach my face.
“Wow! You’re taking…” Everything. I know, baby.
With my mouth full, I can’t say anything. And I can’t risk touching him. He’ll either think it’s too much or he’ll feel like I’m
taking over. Neither of those are things I want.
Instead, I wait him out while he adjusts. He gives shallow thrusts a few times before he pulls back nearly all the way. When
he slides forward with ease, his eyes widen.
“You don’t have a gag reflex. I didn’t know. Oh, my fates! Your throat.” His eyes roll back when I swallow around him.
“Fuuucckkkk.”
I have to squeeze my own cock so I don’t come from how completely broken he sounds. I want nothing more than to let go,
but this isn’t about me. It’s about him.
When I swallow again, he loses some of his hesitancy. His hips pick up speed as he begins to fuck my face just how I
wanted.
That’s it, mate. Give me everything.
CHAPTER 9
DAVIE

THERE IS NO WAY THIS IS REAL.

I’ve had moments over the last few weeks where I questioned what was reality and what had to be a dream. Each night
when I laid down, I just knew I’d wake up to find myself back at the cabin all bruised against the kitchen floor.
Yet that hasn’t been the case.
Today is another one of those ‘too good to be true’ moments. I can’t explain how amazing it feels to have the man I’ve been
slowly but surely falling in love with tell me to climb on top of him. He’s given me the power in a way I’ve never had.
My hips power forward again and again as I bury my cock in his warm, wet mouth. Ezra sucks me down like I’m delicious.
Like he can’t get enough.
I didn’t know sex could feel like this. That I could enjoy it so much.
I keep my gaze on my mate the entire time I’m working myself in and out of his mouth. If he shows even an ounce of
discomfort, I want to pull back. I won’t take advantage of his kindness by pushing him too far.
Except... Ezra doesn’t appear distressed at all. If anything, he’s euphoric. His eyes are closed, and he hums around my
length. It sends delicious shivers of pleasure through me.
I can feel the orgasm building, and hell if it’s not building fast. “Coming… soon…” I warn him.
He grunts as if he wants it. I don’t have to hear his voice to know he’s encouraging me to keep going.
When I do lose it, I freeze mid-thrust, my cock in his throat as cum pours free. He swallows it all down eagerly, his eyes
locked on mine in an intimate hold that I feel everywhere at once.
I pull back as the pleasure turns too much. I’m sensitive and shivering, my body worn out from the overload.
It’s only when I shift back that I see he’s still gripping the base of his cock.
“Ezra,” I whimper. “Will you cover me? I want…”
“You have to move where it can hit you, baby. I don’t want you on your knees, but I need you somewhere it can land.”
As quickly as I can, I pull my leg free from between him and the couch and scoot down to where my face can hover over
his length. “This should work, right?”
He nods quickly, then lets go of his base. It only takes a couple of strokes for him to explode. Cum shoots out so fast I miss
the first of it. I’m kind of thankful, though, because it was so hard and fast that it might have hurt.
I chuckle at my own thoughts as I move my face side to side over his still overflowing length. I can’t explain why it feels so
good to have him covering me this way, but it does feel good.
Eyes closed and painted in his seed; I add this memory to all the good ones my mate has given me. If he keeps going this
way, I might one day have more happy days under my belt than bad ones.
“It shouldn’t be as sexy as it is to see you a mess like this, baby, but it is. Can you sit up for me? I’ll go get a towel to clean
you up.” Ezra helps me ease back since I can’t see. Then I feel cold as he leaves me to step into the kitchen.
A minute later, he’s back with a warm towel and doing just as he said. When I’m finally able to open my eyes again, I open
them to find a soft smile on his face.
“What is it?”
He shakes his head. “You’re smiling again. I don’t think I’ll ever get over how much I love seeing it.”
Love.
The word hangs between us for a second before a baby’s cry cuts through the monitor. Ezra leaves me to get dressed as he
goes to grab our son.

“IT ’ S OVER,” S HERIFF BATES DECLARES WHEN HE STEPS INSIDE EZRA’ S HOUSE A FEW HOURS LATER. “WE’ VE GOT HIM AND HIS
backup in custody. They’ll be tried and sentenced according to the judge’s verdict. I don’t see how they’ll get away with
anything after all the evidence we’ve gathered.”
 “Evidence.” I whispered the word bitterly.
The sheriff gives a slow nod. “Yes, sir. The photos from your original injury, plus statements from the officers from
Plentywood. That, and Dusty seemed to like to keep trophies in his phone of when he hurt you. Some were single photos of
injuries or just bruises, but it’s enough to pin the abuse on him. The ORC has put together a team to help ensure he never hurts
anyone again. All the men have also been stripped of their roles in law enforcement.”
“They better have been.” My mate growls the words at the sheriff as he tugs me back against his chest. I go willingly, the
barriers I’d been holding crumbling as the reality set in.
Am I magically healed because Dusty is behind bars? No.
Am I better now because I’d had sex with Ezra? Also, no.
But I am aware enough to feel the way my body became a little less tense. I could sense the shift in the dark part of my mind
where I thought this was a dream.
“Why did it take so long? Did you not have him before now?” The question comes before I can really think of how it might
be an insult to his policing skills.
Sheriff Bates turns his gaze to the front window of the house. The blinds are closed, though I have a feeling he wouldn’t see
anything even if the view wasn’t obstructed.
“Former Deputy Dusty had a heads up from Riggs about us finding you. When I sent him away, he went straight to Dusty’s
cabin and warned him. The pair took off out of the county. They only returned this past week. Apparently, neither had thought to
take more than the money they had on them and their driver’s licenses.”
“Passports and extra clothes and cash would have gotten them out of the country. They came back for that, didn’t they?”
Ezra asked.
The sheriff nods. “That’s it exactly. We had an officer hidden close by who alerted us when they came back. We detained
them in the early hours this morning. It’s over.”
He stays a few minutes longer to give us a rundown of what comes next. I barely register any of the details. It’s ok though
because my mate is listening intently. I can tell from how he keeps asking questions and from the amused smile the sheriff
wears.
“I’ll keep you updated along the way. You two have a good rest of your day.” With a wave, he leaves us.
Ezra turns me in his arms so I’m facing him. He looks me over closely, his gaze probably searching for my breakdown at
the news.
He won’t find it.
“What do you need from me?” He asks when he doesn’t get the answer from staring at me.
I shake my head. “I’m ok. You’ve already given me everything I need. Me and Bernie have a home here with you. We’re
safe thanks to the sheriff. Now it’s just about the future.”
“The future?”
“Yeah. Our future. The one where we raise our son together. Do you think he’ll always be this quiet? Or will he turn out
like his dad later in life and be super talkative?”
At my teasing words, a smile blooms across Ezra’s face. It’s the biggest one I’ve seen yet, and it’s so full of love, I can’t
help but return the look.
“There it is,” he says.
I laugh as I bury my face in his chest. “You might want to stop counting them. I have a feeling there will be a lot more in our
future.”
“Just the way I’d hoped.”
EPILOGUE
EZRA

BERNIE IS TEN MONTHS OLD TODAY. I NEVER THOUGHT I’ D BE THE KIND OF PERSON WHO STUDIED TIME IN MONTHS LIKE THIS . I
can’t imagine it any other way.
Not when this little guy has me so wrapped around his finger.
He’s crawling now, and he recognizes people. I’ve even caught him trying to stand on his own. It’s been a blast because
with all my friends having kids older than him, he’s the baby of the group and everyone fawns all over him.
At least he’s the baby for now. I’m sure there will be more pregnancy announcements soon. I can just feel it.
Davie and I won’t be one though. Maybe not ever.
My mate is still hesitant about penetration, which means no knotting for us. Not that I mind it one bit. He has a sexual
appetite that I can barely keep up with now. We do everything short of his limit, and I can honestly say I’m exhausted from it
all. He keeps me busy with how inventive we get in, and out, of the bedroom.
Like now. We’re meant to be dressed and out the door to go to a party at Zeke’s place. Instead of driving through town, I’m
enjoying the attention my Omega has decided to grant my cock.
“That’s it, baby. Squeeze harder.” I encourage him, showing praise as he tries something new for the first time.
I’m face down on the bed with his face between my cheeks and his hand wrapped around my knot. His tongue circles my
hole, giving long, slow licks against my sensitive skin.
“Does it feel good, mate?” His voice is breathless when he pulls back.
“It does. I’m close, baby. Do you want me to paint you?”
“Yes!” I feel him pull back, then he’s climbing on the bed beside me. “Chest, please.”
I chuckle as he wiggles to lay down in a way I can come without caging him in. We’re working on him being comfortable
under me. It’s a long-term goal — his words, not mine. I’m just happy to be in his life, the position be damned.
“I’m ready now,” he shimmies his shoulders as he licks his lips.
I jerk my cock hard and fast, my patience gone at the greedy way he watches me. It was easier to hold back when he was
behind me. Back there, I couldn’t see the hunger in his gaze or the way his cock bobs like it wants down my throat again.
“Coming.” I roar the word as I break. White ropes splatter free, painting him and making a mess of his freshly showered
skin. I chuckle at the thought of us being even later. There’s no point in trying when we’re like this. I’ll just have to apologize to
Rylan since I’m sure he’s wondering where we are.
As if our friends can read my mind, I hear both our phones go off. Davie groans, then rolls to grab his. “It’s the guys,” he
says with a glance at the screen. “They’re making bets about if we’re having sex or not.”
“Of course, they are.” I watch as he types across the screen. My phone buzzes with a message, so I grab it just to be sure
it’s not anyone reaching out to me directly.
My laugh is almost a bark at how quick it comes once I see his name in the chat.
DAVIE
I bet $500 they’re totally doing it and will be later than late. Who’s taking the bet?

“You goof. You can’t bet on yourself when you know the answer.”
He turns to me, his smile wide and covered in my release. “Why not? We’re a sure bet. I’d be foolish not to.”
I tug him into the shower, happiness flooding through me. We’re definitely a sure bet.

BY THE TIME WE GET TO ZEKE’ S PLACE, THE GROUP CHAT IS FULL OF TEASING MESSAGES . THE GUYS DON ’ T ASK ABOUT US HAVING
more babies after a brief discussion asking them not to bring it up, but nothing else is off limits. My mate is red faced for the
first fifteen minutes before he shakes off the embarrassment and laughs along with everyone.
“You look happy,” Ozzy tells me when he steps up beside me in the kitchen after dinner.
 I nod. “I am. It’s… everything. I can understand why you and Jerome worked things out now. I was stupid to not listen back
then.”
There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t regret my reaction upon meeting Ozzy’s mate. Seeing the abuse my mate went
through firsthand only amplified the remorse.
They’d both forgiven me, but there were still times I apologized for it.
“You know we’re all good, E. It’s the past. Besides, I think it was a good lesson for you to learn before your mate came
along. The timing lined up in a way that wouldn’t have been good otherwise. You’re happy. I’m happy. We’ve got the best
friend group in the world, and I can’t complain about a single thing.”
The doorbell rings, interrupting his thoughts. “Who in the world is that?”
Ozzy grins. “I might have invited someone else tonight. He told me he might not make it or that he’d be really late. Don’t be
mad.”
I freeze at the request. Who in the world could it be? I don’t know of anyone that might make me upset.
Following Ozzy to the entry, I watch with him as Rylan opens the door. “Sheriff Bates?!”
“Julian, if you don’t mind. I’m not here in a work capacity,” he tells me as he steps inside. “Thanks for allowing me to
come. It’s been crazy and having a place to relax might be nice.”
Rylan nods. “Absolutely. I told Ozzy it was a great idea when he mentioned it. Come on through. Everyone is here.”
“Sure. I’d like a second with Ezra if it’s ok.”
Ozzy and Rylan share a look before agreeing and leaving me with the sheriff — with Julian. That’s going to take some
getting used to. Geesh.
“I’m not here to cause trouble,” he starts. “If it’s a problem for you or Davie, then I’ll leave. This is totally against my
norm, but I’ve decided it’s time I stop hiding in my office and using work as an excuse.”
“An excuse? Excuse to what?”
“To not live.” The words are said heavily, like the meaning behind them is too deep and wide for us to possibly go over in
one sitting.
I shake my head. “You’re not an issue for me. I’ll admit it’s strange given the circumstances, but I’m fine. I think my mate
will be too.”
“That’s good to hear. I’ve got a couple of new deputies starting soon after everything that happened. We’ve been short
staffed. I’ve had to search the whole damn country just to find qualified men and women I thought would be good fits.”
“Sounds great. Come on in. I’m sure Davie is more worried about why I’m not back yet than he is about you being here.
You’ll see.” I say the words to tease him, though I’m being honest as well.
Davie gasps when we round the corner to where everyone is gathered. “Sheriff?”
“Julian, please,” the man beside me says. “I hope I’m not a bother.”
My mate shakes his head, then pushes out of his seat. I’m prepared to catch him and soothe his worries. There’s no need
since he passes me to go to Julian.
He hugs the Alpha beside me quickly, then pulls back to sink into my side. “I don’t think I ever properly thanked you for
your help with everything. I wouldn’t be able to have nights like this, to have friends like this, without your involvement. So,
thank you. You’ve changed my life, Sher — Julian. I hope I can repay the favor.”
“Consider it repaid. I’m happy to see this group happy and together. I remember when they were nothing but teenagers
moping around town talking about knot cramps and summer break.”
Roars of laughter come from the guys as we start talking over one another. Julian grabs an empty seat and takes a beer when
Rylan brings one to him. I tuck into Davie’s abandoned spot, pulling him onto my lap.
“Are you happy, mate?” I whisper in his ear.
He turns to face me, his smile bright and wide. There’s another one. “The happiest. I love you, mate.”
“I love you too.” It might not be the first time he’s said it, but it feels that way. The gut punch of his affection always makes
my head spin.
The rest of the night is spent with us swapping stories from our youth. Julian gives his perspective of the events, even going
so far as to give clarity to a few things we hadn’t been told.
“Seems we weren’t as slick as we thought we were back then,” I admit later in the evening.
“Maybe not, but it was still a great life,” Zeke tells us.
Ozzy nods. “The best. I wouldn’t change a single moment.”
Everyone agrees with him, Davie included. I startle at the idea. He must feel it because he leans back against me and
whispers where only I can hear.
“All the moments — both good and bad — led me to you. If I changed even one, I wouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t have my
family. I’d live it a thousand times over just to get here with you and Bernie.”
Tears fill my eyes as I accept the feeling that his words bring me. Contentment settles inside me, giving me peace I never
thought I’d find.
 Surprise!
Sheriff Bates will
get his own happily ever after.
Preorder it HERE.

Want more low-angst MPreg instalove?

Check out my other series:
Maybe Mine
Plentywood Alphas

Be sure to join my Facebook group for all the latest news, teasers, and more.
Facebook Group

Follow me on socials for giveaways, behind the scenes updates, and all things Allie W. Scott (aka A.W. Scott).
Instagram
Facebook
TikTok
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
tranquille, elle me reconnut et prononça mon nom. Ce qui se passa
en moi alors est impossible à décrire; je me jetai à genoux, la tête
appuyée contre son lit, et je me mis à pleurer comme un enfant. En
ce moment le docteur entra, et craignant pour elle les émotions, il
exigea que je me retirasse; je voulus résister; mais Pauline me serra
la main, en me disant d’une voix douce:
—Allez!...
J’obéis. Il y avait huit jours et huit nuits que je ne m’étais couché,
je me mis au lit, et, un peu rassuré sur son état, je m’endormis d’un
sommeil dont j’avais presque autant besoin qu’elle.
En effet, la maladie inflammatoire disparut peu à peu, et au bout
de trois semaines il ne restait plus à Pauline qu’une grande
faiblesse; mais pendant ce temps la maladie chronique dont elle
avait déjà été menacée un an auparavant avait fait des progrès. Le
docteur nous conseilla le remède qui l’avait déjà guérie, et je résolus
de profiter des derniers beaux jours de l’année pour parcourir avec
elle la Suisse et de là gagner Naples, où je comptais passer l’hiver.
Je fis part de ce projet à Pauline: elle sourit tristement de l’espoir
que je fondais sur cette distraction; puis, avec une soumission
d’enfant, elle consentit à tout. En conséquence, vers les premiers
jours de septembre, nous partîmes pour Ostende: nous traversâmes
la Flandre, remontâmes le Rhin jusqu’à Bâle; nous visitâmes les lacs
de Bienne et de Neuchâtel, nous nous arrêtâmes quelques jours à
Genève; enfin nous parcourûmes l’Oberland, nous franchîmes le
Brunig, et nous venions de visiter Altorf, lorsque tu nous rencontras,
sans pouvoir nous joindre, à Fluelen, sur les bords du lac des
Quatre-Cantons.
Tu comprends maintenant pourquoi nous ne pûmes t’attendre:
Pauline, en voyant ton intention de profiter de notre barque, m’avait
demandé ton nom, et s’était rappelé t’avoir rencontré plusieurs fois,
soit chez madame la comtesse M..., soit chez la princesse Bel... A la
seule idée de se retrouver en face de toi, son visage prit une telle
expression d’effroi, que j’en fus effrayé, et que j’ordonnai à mes
bateliers de s’éloigner à force de rames, quelque chose que tu
dusses penser de mon impolitesse.
Pauline se coucha au fond de la barque, je m’assis près d’elle, et
elle appuya sa tête sur mes genoux. Il y avait juste deux ans qu’elle
avait quitté la France ainsi souffrante et appuyée sur moi. Depuis ce
temps, j’avais tenu fidèlement l’engagement que j’avais pris: j’avais
veillé sur elle comme un frère, je l’avais respectée comme une sœur,
toutes les préoccupations de mon esprit avaient eu pour but de lui
épargner une douleur ou de lui ménager un plaisir; tous les désirs de
mon âme avaient tourné autour de l’espérance d’être aimé un jour
par elle. Quand on a vécu longtemps près d’une personne, il y a de
ces idées qui vous viennent à tous deux en même temps. Je vis ses
yeux se mouiller de larmes, elle poussa un soupir, et, me serrant la
main qu’elle tenait entre les siennes:
—Que vous êtes bon! me dit-elle.
Je tressaillis de la sentir répondre aussi complétement à ma
pensée.
—Trouvez-vous que j’aie fait ce que je devais faire? lui dis-je.
—Oh! vous avez été pour moi l’ange gardien de mon enfance,
qui s’était envolé un instant, et que Dieu m’a rendu sous le nom d’un
frère!
—Eh bien! en échange de ce dévoûment, ne ferez-vous rien pour
moi?
—Hélas! que puis-je maintenant pour votre bonheur? dit Pauline;
vous aimer?... Alfred, en face de ce lac, de ces montagnes, de ce
ciel, de toute cette nature sublime, en face de Dieu qui les a faits,
oui, Alfred, je vous aime! Je ne vous apprends rien de nouveau en
vous disant cela.
—Oh! oui, oui, je le sais, lui répondis-je; mais ce n’est point
assez de m’aimer, il faut que votre vie soit attachée à la mienne par
des liens indissolubles; il faut que cette protection, que j’ai obtenue
comme une faveur, devienne pour moi un droit.
 Elle sourit tristement.
—Pourquoi souriez-vous ainsi? lui dis-je.
—C’est que vous voyez toujours l’avenir de la terre, et moi
l’avenir du ciel.
—Encore!... lui dis-je.
—Pas d’illusions, Alfred: ce sont les illusions qui rendent les
douleurs amères et inguérissables. Si j’avais conservé quelque
illusion, moi, croyez-vous que je n’eusse point fait connaître à ma
mère que j’existais encore? Mais alors il m’aurait fallu quitter encore
une seconde fois ma mère et vous, et c’eût été trop. Aussi ai-je eu
d’avance pitié de moi-même et me suis-je privée d’une grande joie
pour m’épargner une suprême douleur.
Je fis un mouvement de prière.
—Je vous aime! Alfred, me répéta-t-elle: je vous redirai ce mot
tant que ma bouche pourra prononcer deux paroles; ne me
demandez rien de plus, et veillez vous-même à ce que je ne meure
pas avec un remords...
Que pouvais-je dire, que pouvais-je faire en face d’une telle
conviction? prendre Pauline dans mes bras et pleurer avec elle sur
la félicité que Dieu aurait pu nous accorder et sur le malheur que la
fatalité nous avait fait.
Nous demeurâmes quelques jours à Lucerne, puis nous partîmes
pour Zurich; nous descendîmes le lac et nous arrivâmes à Pfeffers.
Là nous comptions nous arrêter une semaine ou deux; j’espérais
que les eaux thermales feraient quelque bien à Pauline. Nous
allâmes visiter la source féconde sur laquelle je basais cette
espérance. En revenant, nous te rencontrâmes sur ce pont étroit,
dans ce souterrain sombre: Pauline te toucha presque, et cette
nouvelle rencontre lui donna une telle émotion, qu’elle voulut partir à
l’instant même. Je n’osai insister, et nous prîmes sur-le-champ la
route de Constance.
 Il n’y avait plus à en douter pour moi-même, Pauline s’affaiblissait
d’une manière visible. Tu n’as jamais éprouvé, tu n’éprouveras
jamais, je l’espère, ce supplice atroce de sentir un cœur qu’on aime
cesser lentement de vivre sous votre main, de compter chaque jour,
le doigt sur l’artère, quelques battemens fiévreux de plus, et de se
dire, chaque fois que, dans un sentiment réuni d’amour et de
douleur, on presse sur sa poitrine ce corps adoré, qu’une semaine,
quinze jours, un mois encore, peut-être, cette création de Dieu, qui
vit, qui pense, qui aime, ne sera plus qu’un froid cadavre sans parole
et sans amour!
Quant à Pauline, plus le temps de notre séparation semblait
s’approcher, plus on eût dit qu’elle avait amassé pour ces derniers
momens les trésors de son esprit et de son âme. Sans doute mon
amour poétise ce crépuscule de sa vie; mais, vois-tu, ce dernier
mois qui s’écoula entre le moment où nous te rencontrâmes à
Pfeffers et celui où, du haut de la terrasse d’une auberge, tu laissas
tomber au bord du lac Majeur ce bouquet d’oranger dans notre
calèche, ce dernier mois sera toujours présent à ma pensée, comme
a dû l’être à l’esprit des prophètes l’apparition des anges qui leur
apportaient la parole du Seigneur.
Nous arrivâmes ainsi à Arona. Là, quoique fatiguée, Pauline
semblait si bien renaître aux premières bouffées de ce vent d’Italie,
que nous ne nous arrêtâmes qu’une nuit; car tout mon espoir était
maintenant de gagner Naples. Cependant le lendemain elle était
tellement souffrante, qu’elle ne put se lever que fort tard, et qu’au
lieu de continuer notre route en voiture, je pris un bateau pour
atteindre Sesto-Calende. Nous nous embarquâmes vers les cinq
heures du soir. A mesure que nous nous approchions, nous voyions
aux derniers rayons tièdes et dorés du soleil la petite ville, couchée
aux pieds des collines, et sur ces collines ses délicieux jardins
d’orangers, de myrtes et de lauriers-roses. Pauline les regardait
avec un ravissement qui me rendit quelque espoir que ses idées
étaient moins tristes.
—Vous pensez qu’il serait bien doux de vivre dans ce délicieux
pays? lui demandai-je.
 —Non, répondit-elle: je pense qu’il serait moins douloureux d’y
mourir. J’ai toujours rêvé les tombes ainsi, continua Pauline, placées
au milieu d’un beau jardin embaumé, entourées d’arbustes et de
fleurs. On ne s’occupe pas assez, chez nous, de la dernière
demeure de ceux qu’on aime: on pare leur lit d’un jour, et on oublie
leur couche de l’éternité!... Si je mourais avant vous, Alfred, reprit-
elle en souriant, après un moment de silence, et que vous fussiez
assez généreux pour continuer à la mort les soins de la vie, je
voudrais que vous vous souvinssiez de ce que je viens de vous dire.
—Oh! Pauline! Pauline! m’écriai-je en la prenant dans mes bras
et en la serrant convulsivement contre mon cœur, ne me parlez pas
ainsi, vous me tuez.
—Eh bien! non, me répondit-elle; mais je voulais vous dire cela,
mon ami, une fois pour toutes; car je sais qu’une fois que je vous
l’aurai dit, vous ne l’oublierez jamais. Non, vous avez raison, ne
parlons plus de cela.... D’ailleurs, je me sens mieux; Naples me fera
du bien. Il y a longtemps que j’ai envie de voir Naples...
—Oui, continuai-je en l’interrompant, oui, nous y serons bientôt.
Nous prendrons pour cet hiver une petite maison à Sorrente ou à
Résina; vous y passerez l’hiver, réchauffée au soleil, qui ne s’éteint
pas; puis, au printemps, vous reviendrez à la vie avec toute la
nature.... Qu’avez-vous? mon Dieu!...
—Oh! que je souffre! dit Pauline en se raidissant et en portant sa
main à sa poitrine. Vous le voyez, Alfred, la mort est jalouse même
de nos rêves, et elle m’envoie la douleur pour nous réveiller!....
Nous demeurâmes en silence jusqu’au moment où nous
abordâmes. Pauline voulut marcher; mais elle était si faible, que ses
genoux plièrent. Il commençait à faire nuit; je la pris dans mes bras
et je la portai jusqu’à l’hôtel.
Je me fis donner une chambre près de la sienne. Depuis long-
temps il y avait entre nous quelque chose de saint, de fraternel et de
sacré qui faisait qu’elle s’endormait sous mes yeux comme sous
ceux d’une mère. Puis, voyant qu’elle était plus souffrante que je ne
l’avais vue encore, et désespérant de pouvoir continuer notre route
le lendemain, j’envoyai un exprès en poste, dans ma voiture, pour
aller chercher à Milan et ramener à Sesto le docteur Scarpa.
Je remontai près de Pauline: elle était couchée; je m’assis au
chevet de son lit. On eût dit qu’elle avait quelque chose à me
demander et qu’elle n’osait le faire. Pour la vingtième fois, je surpris
son regard fixé sur moi avec une expression inouïe de doute.
—Que voulez-vous? lui dis-je; vous désirez m’interroger et vous
n’osez pas le faire. Voilà déjà plusieurs fois que je vous vois me
regarder ainsi: ne suis-je pas votre ami, votre frère?
—Oh! vous êtes bien plus que tout cela, me répondit-elle, et il n’y
a pas de nom pour dire ce que vous êtes. Oui, oui, un doute me
tourmente, un doute horrible! Je l’éclaircirai plus tard... dans un
moment où vous n’oserez pas me mentir; mais l’heure n’est pas
encore venue. Je vous regarde pour vous voir le plus possible... je
vous regarde, parce que je vous aime!
Je pris sa tête et je la posai sur mon épaule. Nous restâmes ainsi
une heure à peu près, pendant laquelle je sentis son souffle haletant
mouiller ma joue, et son cœur bondir contre ma poitrine. Enfin elle
m’assura qu’elle se sentait mieux et me pria de me retirer. Je me
levai pour lui obéir, et, comme d’habitude, j’approchais ma bouche
de son front, lorsqu’elle me jeta les bras autour du cou, et appuyant
ses lèvres sur les miennes: Je t’aime! murmura-t-elle dans un baiser,
et elle retomba la tête sur son lit. Je voulus la prendre dans mes
bras; mais elle me repoussa doucement, et sans rouvrir les yeux:
Laisse-moi, mon Alfred, me dit-elle: je t’aime!... je suis bien... je suis
heureuse!...
Je sortis de la chambre; je n’aurais pas pu y rester dans l’état
d’exaltation où ce baiser fiévreux m’avait mis. Je rentrai chez moi; je
laissai la porte de communication entr’ouverte, afin de courir près de
Pauline au moindre bruit; puis, au lieu de me coucher, je me
contentai de mettre bas mon habit, et j’ouvris la fenêtre pour
chercher un peu de fraîcheur.
 Le balcon de ma chambre donnait sur ces jardins enchantés que
nous avions vus du lac en nous approchant de Sesto. Au milieu des
touffes de citronniers et des massifs de lauriers-roses, quelques
statues debout sur leurs piédestaux se détachaient aux rayons de la
lune, blanches comme des ombres. A force de fixer les yeux sur une
d’elles, ma vue se troubla, il me sembla la voir s’animer et qu’elle me
faisait signe de la main en me montrant la terre. Bientôt cette illusion
fut si grande, que je crus m’entendre appeler; je portai mes deux
mains à mon front, car il me semblait que je devenais fou. Mon nom,
prononcé une seconde fois d’une voix plus plaintive, me fit tressaillir;
je rentrai dans ma chambre et j’écoutai; une troisième fois mon nom
arriva jusqu’à moi, mais plus faible. La voix venait de l’appartement à
côté, c’était Pauline qui m’appelait, je m’élançai dans sa chambre.
C’était bien elle... elle, expirante, et qui n’avait pas voulu mourir
seule, et qui, voyant que je ne lui répondais pas, était descendue de
son lit pour me chercher dans son agonie; elle était à genoux sur le
parquet... Je me précipitai vers elle, voulant la prendre dans mes
bras, mais elle me fit signe qu’elle avait quelque chose à me
demander. Puis, ne pouvant parler et sentant qu’elle allait mourir,
elle saisit la manche de ma chemise, l’arracha avec ses mains, mit à
découvert la blessure à peine refermée, que trois mois auparavant
m’avait faite la balle du comte Horace, et me montrant du doigt la
cicatrice, elle poussa un cri, se renversa en arrière et ferma les yeux.
Je la portai sur son lit, et je n’eus que le temps d’approcher mes
lèvres des siennes pour recueillir son dernier souffle et ne pas
perdre son dernier soupir.
La volonté de Pauline fut accomplie; elle dort dans un de ces
jardins qui dominent le lac, au milieu du parfum des orangers et sous
l’ombrage des myrtes et des lauriers-roses.
—Je le sais, répondis-je à Alfred, car je suis arrivé à Sesto quatre
jours après que tu l’avais quitté; et, sans savoir qui elle renfermait,
j’ai été prier sur sa tombe.
 M U R AT.

Vers cette même époque, c’est-à-dire dans le courant de l’année

1834, lord S. amena un soir le général italien W. T. chez Grisier.
Sa présentation fit événement. Le général T. était non-seulement
un homme distingué comme instruction et comme courage, mais
encore la part qu’il avait prise à deux événemens politiques
importans en faisait un personnage historique. Ces deux événemens
étaient le procès de Murat en 1815 et la révolution de Naples en
1820.
Nommé membre de la commission militaire qui devait juger l’ex-
roi Joachim, le général T., alors simple capitaine, avait été envoyé au
Pizzo, et, seul parmi tous ses collègues, il avait osé voter contre la
peine de mort. Cette conduite avait été considérée comme une
trahison, et le capitaine T., menacé à son tour d’un procès, en fut
quitte à grand’peine, pour la perte de son grade et un exil de deux
ans à Lipari.
Il était de retour à Naples depuis trois ans, lorsque la révolution
de 1820 éclata. Il s’y jeta avec, toute l’ardeur de son courage et
toute la conscience de ses opinions. Le vicaire général du royaume,
le prince François, qui succéda depuis à son père Ferdinand, avait
lui-même paru céder franchement au mouvement révolutionnaire; et
un des motifs de la confiance que lui accordèrent alors grand
nombre de patriotes fut le choix qu’il fit du capitaine T. pour
commander une division de l’armée qui marcha contre les
Autrichiens.
On sait comment finit cette campagne. Le général T., abandonné
par ses soldats, rentra l’un des derniers à Naples; il y fut suivi de
près par les Autrichiens. Le prince François, fort de leur présence,
jugea qu’il était inutile de dissimuler plus longtemps, et il exila,
comme rebelles et coupables de haute trahison, ceux dont il avait
signé les brevets trois semaines auparavant.
Cependant la proscription n’avait pas été si prompte, que le
général n’eût eu le temps, un soir qu’il prenait une glace au café de
Tolède, de recevoir une impertinence et de rendre un soufflet. Le
souffleté était un colonel autrichien, qui exigea une satisfaction que
le général ne demandait pas mieux que de lui accorder. Le colonel fit
toutes les conditions, le général n’en discuta aucune; il en résulta
que les préliminaires de l’affaire furent promptement réglés; la
rencontre fut fixée au lendemain. Elle devait avoir lieu à cheval et au
sabre.
Le lendemain, à l’heure dite, les adversaires se trouvèrent au
rendez-vous; mais, soit que les témoins se fussent mal expliqués,
soit que le général eût oublié l’une des deux conditions du combat, il
arriva en fiacre.
Les témoins proposèrent au colonel de se battre à pied; mais il
n’y voulut pas consentir. Le général détela alors un des chevaux du
fiacre; monta dessus sans selle et sans bride, et à la troisième
passe, tua le colonel.
Ce duel fit grand honneur au courage et au sang-froid du général
T.; mais il ne raccommoda point ses affaires. Huit jours après, il reçut
l’ordre de quitter Naples: il n’y est pas rentré depuis.
On devine quelle bonne fortune ce fut pour nous qu’une pareille
recrue; cependant nous y mîmes de la discrétion. Sa première visite
se passa en conversation générale; à la seconde, nous hasardâmes
quelques questions; à la troisième, son fleuret, grâce à notre
importunité, ne lui servit plus qu’à nous tracer des plans de bataille
sur le mur ou sur le plancher.
Parmi tous ces récits, il en était un que je désirais plus
particulièrement connaître dans tous ses détails; c’était celui des
circonstances qui avaient précédé les derniers instans et
accompagné la mort de Murat. Ces détails étaient toujours restés
pour nous, sous la restauration, couverts d’un voile que les
susceptibilités royales, plus encore que la distance des lieux,
rendaient difficile à soulever; puis la révolution de juillet était venue,
et tant d’événemens nouveaux avaient surgi qu’ils avaient presque
fait oublier les anciens. L’ère des souvenirs impériaux était passée
depuis que ces souvenirs avaient cessé d’être de l’opposition. Il en
résultait que si je perdais cette occasion d’interroger la tradition
vivante, je courais grand risque d’être obligé de m’en rapporter à
l’histoire officielle, et je savais trop comment celle-ci se fait, pour y
avoir recours en pareille occasion. Je laissai donc chacun satisfaire
sa curiosité aux dépens de la patience du général T., me promettant
de retenir pour moi tout ce qui lui en resterait de disponible après la
séance.
En effet, je guettai sa sortie, et comme nous avions même route
à faire, je le reconduisis par le boulevard, et là, seul à seul, j’osai
risquer des questions plus intimes sur le fait qui m’intéressait. Le
général vit mon désir, et comprit dans quel but je me hasardais à le
lui manifester. Alors, avec cette obligeance parfaite que lui savent
tous ceux qui l’ont connu:
—Écoutez, me dit-il, de pareils détails ne peuvent se
communiquer de vive voix et en un instant; d’ailleurs, ma mémoire
me servît-elle au point que je n’en oubliasse aucun, la vôtre pourrait
bien être moins fidèle; et, si je ne m’abuse, vous ne voulez rien
oublier de ce que je vous dirai.
Je lui fis signe en riant que non.
—Eh bien! continua-t-il, je vous enverrai demain un manuscrit;
vous le déchiffrerez comme vous pourrez, vous le traduirez, si bon
vous semble; vous le publierez, s’il en mérite la peine; la seule
condition que je vous demande, c’est que vous n’y mettiez pas mon
nom en toutes lettres, attendu que je serais sûr de ne jamais rentrer
à Naples. Quant à l’authenticité, je vous la garantis, car le récit qu’il
contient a été rédigé ou sur mes propres souvenirs ou sur des
pièces officielles.
 C’était plus que je ne pouvais demander; aussi remerciai-je le
général, et lui donnai-je une preuve de l’empressement que j’aurais
à le lire en lui faisant promettre formellement de me l’envoyer le
lendemain.
Le général promit et me tint parole.
C’est donc le manuscrit d’un témoin oculaire, traduit dans toute
son énergique fidélité, que nous mettons sous les yeux de nos
lecteurs.
 I.
TOULON.

Le 18 juin 1815, à l’heure même où les destinées de l’Europe se

décidaient à Waterloo, un homme habillé en mendiant suivait
silencieusement la route de Toulon à Marseille. Arrivé à l’entrée des
gorges d’Ollioulles, il s’arrêta sur une petite éminence qui lui
permettait de découvrir tout le paysage qui l’entourait: alors, soit qu’il
fût parvenu au terme de son voyage, soit qu’avant de s’engager
dans cet âpre et sombre défilé, qu’on appelle les Thermopyles de la
Provence, il voulût jouir encore quelque temps de la vue magnifique
qui se déroulait à l’horizon méridional, il alla s’asseoir sur le talus du
fossé qui bordait la grande route, tournant le dos aux montagnes qui
s’élèvent en amphithéâtre au nord de la ville, et ayant par
conséquent à ses pieds une riche plaine, dont la végétation
asiatique rassemble, comme dans une serre, des arbres et des
plantes inconnus au reste de la France. Au delà de cette plaine
resplendissante des derniers rayons du soleil, s’étendait la mer,
calme et unie comme une glace, et à la surface de l’eau glissait
légèrement un seul brick de guerre, qui, profitant d’une fraîche brise
de terre, lui ouvrait toutes ses voiles, et, poussé par elles, gagnait
rapidement la mer d’Italie. Le mendiant le suivit avidement des yeux,
jusqu’au moment où il disparut entre la pointe du cap de Gien et la
première des îles d’Hyères, puis, dès que la blanche apparition se
fut effacée, il poussa un profond soupir, laissa retomber son front
entre ses mains, et resta immobile et absorbé dans ses réflexions,
jusqu’au moment où le bruit d’une cavalcade le fit tressaillir; il releva
aussitôt la tête, secoua ses longs cheveux noirs, comme s’il voulait
faire tomber de son front les amères pensées qui l’accablaient, et
fixant les yeux vers l’entrée des gorges, du côté d’où venait le bruit, il
en vit bientôt sortir deux cavaliers qu’il reconnut sans doute; car
aussitôt, se relevant de toute sa hauteur, il laissa tomber le bâton
qu’il tenait à la main, croisa les bras et se tourna vers eux. De leur
côté, les nouveaux arrivans l’eurent à peine aperçu qu’ils
s’arrêtèrent, et que celui qui marchait le premier descendit de
cheval, jeta la bride au bras de son compagnon, et mettant le
chapeau à la main, quoiqu’il fût à plus de cinquante pas de l’homme
aux haillons, s’avança respectueusement vers lui; le mendiant le
laissa approcher d’un air de dignité sombre et sans faire un seul
mouvement; puis, lorsqu’il ne fut plus qu’à une faible distance:
—Eh bien! monsieur le maréchal, lui dit-il, avez-vous reçu des
nouvelles?
—Oui, sire, répondit tristement celui qui l’interrogeait.
—Et quelles sont-elles?...
—Telles que j’eusse préféré que tout autre que moi les annonçât
à votre majesté...
—Ainsi l’empereur refuse mes services! il oublie les victoires
d’Aboukir, d’Eylau, de la Moscowa?
—Non, sire; mais il se souvient du traité de Naples, de la prise de
Reggio et de la déclaration de guerre au vice-roi d’Italie.
Le mendiant se frappa le front.
—Oui, oui, à ses yeux peut-être ai je mérité ces reproches; mais
il me semble cependant qu’il devrait se rappeler qu’il y eut deux
hommes en moi, le soldat dont il a fait son frère, et son frère dont il a
fait un roi.... Oui, comme frère, j’eus des torts et de grands torts
envers lui; mais comme roi, sur mon âme! je ne pouvais faire
autrement... Il me fallait choisir entre mon sabre et ma couronne,
entre un régiment et un peuple!... Tenez, Brune, vous ne savez pas
comment la chose s’est passée! Il y avait une flotte anglaise dont le
canon grondait dans le port; il y avait une population napolitaine qui
hurlait dans les rues. Si j’avais été seul, j’aurais passé avec un
bateau au milieu de la flotte, avec mon sabre au milieu de la foule;
mais j’avais une femme, des enfans. Cependant j’ai hésité, l’idée
que l’épithète de traître et de transfuge s’attacherait à mon nom m’a
fait verser plus de larmes que ne m’en coûtera jamais la perte de
mon trône, et peut-être la mort des êtres que j’aime le plus... Enfin, il
ne veut pas de moi, n’est-ce pas?... Il me refuse comme général,
comme capitaine, comme soldat?... Que me reste-t-il donc à faire?

—Sire, il faut que votre majesté sorte à l’instant de France[1].

—Et si je n’obéissais pas?
—Mes ordres sont alors de vous arrêter et de vous livrer à un
conseil de guerre!
—Ce que tu ne ferais pas, n’est-ce pas, mon vieux camarade?
—Ce que je ferais, en priant Dieu de me frapper de mort au
moment où j’étendrais la main sur vous!
—Je vous reconnais là, Brune; vous avez pu rester brave et
loyal, vous! Il ne vous a pas donné un royaume, il ne vous a pas mis
autour du front ce cercle de feu qu’on appelle une couronne et qui
rend fou; il ne vous a pas placé entre votre conscience et votre
famille. Ainsi il me faut quitter la France, recommencer la vie errante,
dire adieu à Toulon qui me rappelait tant de souvenirs. Tenez, Brune,
continua Murat en s’appuyant sur le bras du maréchal, ne voilà-t-il
pas des pins aussi beaux que ceux de la villa Pamphile, des
palmiers pareils à ceux du Caire, des montagnes qu’on croirait une
chaîne du Tyrol? Voyez, à gauche, ce cap de Gien, n’est-ce pas,
moins le Vésuve, quelque chose comme Castellamare et Sorrente?
Et tenez, Saint-Mandrier, qui ferme là-bas le golfe, ne ressemble-t-il
pas à mon rocher de Caprée, que Lamarque a si bien escamoté à
cet imbécile d’Hudson Lowe? Ah! mon Dieu! et il me faut quitter tout
cela! Il n’y a pas moyen de rester sur ce coin de terre française,
dites, Brune?...
—Sire, vous me faites bien mal? répondit le maréchal.
—C’est vrai; ne parlons plus de cela. Quelles nouvelles?
—L’empereur est parti de Paris pour rejoindre l’armée; on doit se
battre à cette heure...
 —On doit se battre à cette heure, et je ne suis pas là! Oh! je sens
que je lui aurais été cependant bien utile un jour de bataille! Avec
quel plaisir j’aurais chargé sur ces misérables Prussiens et sur ces
infâmes Anglais! Brune, donnez-moi un passeport, je partirai à franc
étrier, j’arriverai où sera l’armée, je me ferai reconnaître à un colonel,
je lui dirai: Donnez-moi votre régiment; je chargerai avec lui, et si le
soir l’empereur ne me tend pas la main, je me brûlerai la cervelle, je
vous en donne ma parole d’honneur!... Faites ce que je vous
demande, Brune, et de quelque manière que cela finisse, je vous en
aurai une reconnaissance éternelle!
—Je ne puis, sire....
—C’est bien, n’en parlons plus.
—Et votre majesté va quitter la France?
—Je ne sais; du reste, accomplissez vos ordres, maréchal, et si
vous me retrouvez, faites-moi arrêter; c’est encore un moyen de
faire quelque chose pour moi!... La vie m’est aujourd’hui un lourd
fardeau, et celui qui m’en délivrera sera le bienvenu... Adieu, Brune.
Et il tendit la main au maréchal; celui-ci voulut la lui baiser, mais
Murat ouvrit ses bras, les deux vieux compagnons se tinrent un
instant embrassés, la poitrine gonflée de soupirs, les yeux pleins de
larmes; puis enfin ils se séparèrent. Brune remonta à cheval, Murat
reprit son bâton, et ces deux hommes s’éloignèrent chacun de son
côté, l’un pour aller se faire assassiner à Avignon, et l’autre pour
aller se faire fusiller au Pizzo.
Pendant ce temps, comme Richard III, Napoléon échangeait à
Waterloo sa couronne pour un cheval.
Après l’entrevue que nous venons de rapporter, l’ex-roi de
Naples se retira chez son neveu, qui se nommait Bonafoux, et qui
était capitaine de frégate; mais cette retraite ne pouvait être que
provisoire, la parenté devait éveiller les soupçons de l’autorité. En
conséquence, Bonafoux songea à procurer à son oncle un asile plus
secret. Il jeta les yeux sur un avocat de ses amis, dont il connaissait
l’inflexible probité, et le soir même il se présenta chez lui. Après
avoir causé de choses indifférentes, il lui demanda s’il n’avait pas
une campagne au bord de la mer, et, sur sa réponse affirmative, il
s’invita pour le lendemain à déjeuner chez lui; la proposition, comme
on le pense, fut acceptée avec plaisir.
Le lendemain, à l’heure convenue, Bonafoux arriva à Bonette,
c’était le nom de la maison de campagne qu’habitaient la femme et
la fille de monsieur Marouin. Quant à lui, attaché au barreau de
Toulon, il était obligé de rester dans cette ville. Après les premiers
complimens d’usage, Bonafoux s’avança vers la fenêtre, et faisant
signe à Marouin de le rejoindre:
—Je croyais, lui dit-il avec inquiétude, que votre campagne était
située plus près de la mer.
—Nous en sommes à dix minutes de chemin à peine.
—Mais on ne l’aperçoit pas.
—C’est cette colline qui nous empêche de la voir.
—En attendant le déjeuner, voulez-vous que nous allions faire un
tour sur la côte?
—Volontiers. Votre cheval n’est pas encore dessellé, je vais faire
mettre la selle au mien, et je viens vous reprendre.
Marouin sortit. Bonafoux resta devant la fenêtre, absorbé dans
ses pensées. Au reste, les maîtresses de la maison, distraites par
les préparatifs du déjeuner, ne remarquèrent point ou ne parurent
point remarquer sa préoccupation. Au bout de cinq minutes, Marouin
rentra; tout était prêt. L’avocat et son hôte montèrent à cheval et se
dirigèrent rapidement vers la mer. Arrivé sur la grève, le capitaine
ralentit le pas de sa monture, et, longeant la plage pendant une
demi-heure à peu près, il parut apporter la plus grande attention au
gisement des côtes. Marouin le suivait sans lui faire de question sur
cet examen, que la qualité d’officier de marine rendait tout naturel.
Enfin, après une heure de marche, les deux convives rentrèrent à la
maison de campagne. Marouin voulut faire desseller les chevaux;
mais Bonafoux s’y opposa, disant qu’aussitôt après le déjeuner il
était obligé de retourner à Toulon. Effectivement, à peine le café
était-il enlevé que le capitaine se leva et prit congé de ses hôtes.
Marouin, rappelé à la ville par ses affaires, monta à cheval avec lui,
et les deux amis reprirent ensemble le chemin de Toulon.
Au bout de dix minutes de marche, Bonafoux se rapprocha de
son compagnon de route, et lui appuyant la main sur la cuisse:
—Marouin, lui dit-il, j’ai quelque chose de grave à vous dire, un
secret important à vous confier.
—Dites, capitaine. Après les confesseurs, vous savez qu’il n’y a
rien de plus discret que les notaires, et après les notaires que les
avocats.
—Vous pensez bien que je ne suis pas venu à votre campagne
pour le seul plaisir de faire une promenade. Un objet plus important,
une responsabilité plus sérieuse me préoccupent, et je vous ai choisi
entre tous mes amis, pensant que vous m’étiez assez dévoué pour
me rendre un grand service.
—Vous avez bien fait, capitaine
—Venons au fait clairement et rapidement, comme il convient de
le faire entre hommes qui s’estiment et qui comptent l’un sur l’autre.
Mon oncle, le roi Joachim, est proscrit; il est caché chez moi, mais il
ne peut y rester, car je suis la première personne chez laquelle on
viendra faire visite. Votre campagne est isolée, et, par conséquent,
on ne peut plus convenable pour lui servir de retraite. Il faut que
vous la mettiez à notre disposition jusqu’au moment où les
événemens permettront au roi de prendre une détermination
quelconque.
—Vous pouvez en disposer, dit Marouin.
—C’est bien; mon oncle y viendra coucher cette nuit.
—Mais donnez-moi le temps au moins de la rendre digne de
l’hôte royal que je vais avoir l’honneur de recevoir.
 —Mon pauvre Marouin, vous vous donneriez une peine inutile, et
vous nous imposeriez un retard fâcheux. Le roi Joachim a perdu
l’habitude des palais et des courtisans; il est trop heureux
aujourd’hui quand il trouve une chaumière et un ami; d’ailleurs je l’ai
prévenu, tant d’avance j’étais sûr de votre réponse. Il compte
coucher chez vous ce soir; si maintenant j’essayais de changer
quelque chose à sa détermination, il verrait un refus dans ce qui ne
serait qu’un délai, et vous perdriez tout le mérite de votre belle et
bonne action. Ainsi, c’est chose dite: ce soir, à dix heures, au
Champ-de-Mars.
A ces mots, le capitaine mit son cheval au galop et disparut.
Marouin fit tourner bride au sien, et revint à sa campagne donner les
ordres nécessaires à la réception d’un étranger dont il ne dit pas le
nom.
A dix heures du soir, ainsi que la chose avait été convenue,
Marouin était au Champ-de-Mars, encombré alors par l’artillerie de
campagne du maréchal Brune. Personne n’était arrivé encore. Il se
promenait entre les caissons, lorsque le factionnaire vint à lui et lui
demanda ce qu’il faisait. La réponse était assez difficile: on ne se
promène guère pour son plaisir à dix heures du soir au milieu d’un
parc d’artillerie; aussi demanda-t-il à parler au chef du poste.
L’officier s’avança: monsieur Marouin se fit reconnaître à lui pour
avocat, adjoint au maire de la ville de Toulon, lui dit qu’il avait donné
rendez-vous à quelqu’un au Champ-de-Mars, ignorant que ce fût
chose défendue, et qu’il attendait cette personne. En conséquence
de cette explication, l’officier l’autorisa à rester et rentra au poste.
Quant à la sentinelle, fidèle observatrice de la subordination, elle
continua sa promenade mesurée sans s’inquiéter davantage de la
présence d’un étranger.
Quelques minutes après, un groupe de plusieurs personnes
parut du côté des Lices. Le ciel était magnifique, la lune brillante.
Marouin reconnut Bonafoux et s’avança vers lui. Le capitaine lui prit
aussitôt la main, le conduisit au roi, et s’adressant successivement à
chacun d’eux: «Sire, dit-il, voici l’ami dont je vous ai parlé.» Puis, se
retournant vers Marouin: «Et vous, lui dit-il, voici le roi de Naples,
proscrit et fugitif, que je vous confie. Je ne parle pas de la possibilité
qu’il reprenne un jour sa couronne; ce serait vous ôter tout le mérite
de votre belle action... Maintenant servez-lui de guide, nous vous
suivrons de loin, marchez.»
Le roi et l’avocat se mirent en route aussitôt. Murat était alors
vêtu d’une redingote bleue, moitié militaire moitié civile, et
boutonnée jusqu’en haut; il avait un pantalon blanc et des bottes à
éperons. Il portait les cheveux longs, de larges moustaches et
d’épais favoris qui lui faisaient le tour du cou. Tout le long de la route
il interrogea son hôte sur la situation de la campagne qu’il allait
habiter et sur la facilité qu’il aurait, en cas d’alerte, à gagner la mer.
Vers minuit, le roi et Marouin arrivèrent à Bonette; la suite royale les
rejoignit au bout de dix minutes: elle se composait d’une trentaine de
personnes. Après avoir pris quelques rafraîchissemens cette petite
troupe, dernière cour du roi déchu, se retira pour se disperser dans
la ville et ses environs, et Murat resta seul avec les femmes, ne
gardant auprès de lui qu’un seul valet de chambre nommé Leblanc.
Murat resta un mois à peu près dans cette solitude, occupant
toutes ses journées à répondre aux journaux qui l’avaient accusé de
trahison envers l’empereur. Cette accusation était sa préoccupation,
son fantôme, son spectre: jour et nuit il essayait de l’écarter, en
cherchant dans la position difficile où il s’était trouvé toutes les
raisons qu’elle pouvait lui offrir d’agir comme il avait agi. Pendant ce
temps, la désastreuse nouvelle de la défaite de Waterloo s’était
répandue. L’empereur, qui venait de proscrire, était proscrit lui-
même, et il attendait à Rochefort, comme Murat à Toulon, ce que les
ennemis allaient décider de lui. On ignore encore à quelle voix
intérieure a cédé Napoléon lorsque, repoussant les conseils du
général Lallemand et le dévoûment du capitaine Bodin, il préféra
l’Angleterre à l’Amérique, et s’en alla, moderne Prométhée,
s’étendre sur le rocher de Sainte-Hélène. Nous allons dire, nous,
quelle circonstance fortuite conduisit Murat dans les fossés de Pizzo;
puis nous laisserons les fatalistes tirer de cette étrange histoire telle
déduction philosophique qu’il leur plaira. Quant à nous, simple
annaliste, nous ne pouvons que répondre de l’exactitude des faits
que nous avons déjà racontés et de ceux qui vont suivre.