Page 37 of Alpha's Claim
The two creatures disappear into the trees.
“Wh-where are we?” I turn back to Darius. He’s clean shaven now, and out of the tuxedo ensemble that made me swoon. Now he’s drool-worthy in the complete opposite vibe: a thick flannel shirt and a faded pair of jeans. His feet are bare. The light blue and tan plaid matches the shirt I’m wearing.
“New Mexico. Bad Bear Mountain.”
My mind spins, trying to assimilate it all. The last thing I remember is standing with him in the kitchen at a beachfront safe house in Rhode Island. Now we’re two thousand miles away on…did he say…Bad BearMountain?
“Why?” I splutter at the same moment I remember thatbad bearwas also the safe word he gave me.
This must be his home.
“You passed out, and I had to get you medical care.”
“InNew Mexico?”
“Medical care with someone I trust.”
“Right. Your brother.” It’s all coming back to me. He’d said his brother could prescribe something for me.
“Yes.”
“Did he…did he find the right prescription?”
Darius’ expression is troubled. “I’m going to let him tell you what he found.”
I blink. “No, you tell me. What is it?”
“Come here.” Darius takes my hand and leads me out of the tiny bedroom and into the living room of the cabin.
A wood fire burns in the grate, making the room cozy. At the kitchen table sits a man, wearing a crisp white button-down shirt and black-framed glasses. He stands when we emerge, and I realize he’s even taller than Darius. Other than their height, though, I see no resemblance. They are obviously not full brothers if they’re biologically related. His skin is dark brown, and he’s more slender than Darius.
“Paloma.” The man has a voice as deep as my Viking’s. “I’m glad to see you’re awake.”
“This is my brother, Matthias.” Darius ushers me forward with a reassuring hand at my lower back.
I extend my palm and shake Matthias’ hand. “Thank you for caring for me.”
“Of course. Are you feeling more like yourself?”
“I feel a bit weak and dizzy,” I admit. “Were you able to match my medication?”
“Yes, about that.” He wears the same troubled expression Darius had.
“What is it?” I look from one tall man to the other. The way the hairs prickle on my arm tells me something is very wrong.
Maybe my condition is fatal–worse than Thom made itseem. Maybe that’s why he wanted to breed me–to ensure he had someone to carry on my work when I’m gone.
My stomach twists and a wave of nausea rolls through me. When I sway on my feet, Darius loops an arm around my waist, his large palm settling on my hip to steady me.
“Paloma, I don’t believe you’re sick at all.” Matthias adjusts his glasses. “I found a large quantity of anticoagulant in your system, along with several chemical compounds that could cause dizziness and extreme fatigue.”
“Anticoagulant? That wouldn’t make sense for hemophilia.”
“No, it wouldn’t.” Darius sounds grim.
I stare at him, not understanding.
“Paloma, I don’t think the medication your doctor administered was to treat any disease,” Matthias says. “I believe it was poison intended to make you dependent.”