Page 18 of Eternal Light (Fated in the Stars #5)

Born Beneath the Hunter’s Moon (Gideon)

Even with his rage strong enough to overrun his scent blocker patch, it’s still not enough to hide the scent of decay coming from Jay’s sire.

Gideon had never had the dubious pleasure of meeting him face-to-face before, but Jay had remarked once that he used to smell like gasoline fresh from the pump.

That scent had long burned away, replaced by something much worse—nauseating decay, pure evil personified.

He’d been spewing filth—and what Gideon wished were lies—for the past five minutes, and Gideon had reached his limit. One more word, and he might just rip the bastard’s throat out.

Then he started in on Nix. On how Hayes (his half-brother, for fuck’s sake) had tortured Gideon’s sweet Kitten for fun—just to keep Jay in a state of perpetual agony. Well…he nearly put Rhodes down right then, like he’d wanted to last fall.

The final straw was when his mouth twisted into a horrible facsimile of a grin, spittle flying from blackened lips.

“Fuck, I wish I was sticking around long enough to see your face when Carnell breaks your pack apart into tiny pieces, boy.”

No one threatens Jay’s pack.

Time slowed. A sharp prickle raced down Gideon’s spine, the hair on his neck standing on end as his wolf snarled a warning. A half-second later, the deafening crack rang out from the top of the WRBY building—just as Jay pulled back his arm to give his dad a well-deserved punch to the jaw.

Gideon’s brain put two and two together as everything snapped into terrifying focus. Then—Rhodes’s face crumpled, the maniacal light fading from his gaze.

Staggering back a single step, Gideon’s beloved alpha jerked with the impact of the through-shot, the bullet still moving with enough power to blow out the car window beside them.

The scent of pine-scented blood had Gideon tackling him to the ground between the cars — hopefully out of range of the sniper’s second shot.

“Jay! Don’t you fucking move. Goddess, please,” he prays, knowing that if They hear him, They will understand what he means. Please save him. Please don’t let him die.

He’s right to be worried, because there is a hole the size of Gideon’s palm in Jay’s right shoulder where it meets his chest — and a bigger one straight through, out the other side. There’s so much blood.

Gideon wants to roar with fear and grief , but yanks his shirt off to try to stop the bleeding, palming his phone to dial 010 — the Were equivalent of emergency services worldwide.

“Emergency services.”

“Enigma alpha down in the rear lot of WRBY 88.1 — high-powered GSW. Hurry.”

“Dispatching now.”

He hangs up and dials Finn, only to let the phone drop to the ground beside Jay’s pale face.

Gideon tries not to think about how he can hear Jay’s heart rate slowing to a few short, intermittent beats.

“Jay, come on,” Gideon whispers. “Stay.”

“Gid,” Jay whispers, and then his eyes slip closed.

Gideon wastes no time before starting chest compressions, using his knee to hold pressure on the wound.

One and two and three and four and five…ten…thirty…breath…breath…again.

Gideon can’t think about how this might be the last time he feels Jay’s mouth under his—or that there is blood on his hands, marking Jay’s t-shirt, or about Melody’s scream from behind him, or how her small hands take over putting pressure on Jay’s wound so he doesn’t bleed out while Gideon keeps Jay’s heart pumping.

When her sobs are replaced with the loud sirens from the ambulance pulling into the parking lot, rough hands are pushing him away, and his wolf rounds on the EMT with bared fangs.

She stumbles back but grits her jaw and tries again.

“Step back. I need to help your alpha.”

As he steps away, picking up his phone as it rings, he answers reflexively. Hadn’t he called Finn? He can’t remember.

His heart is pounding so hard he’s lightheaded; he bends at the waist but doesn’t take his eyes off his mate as the EMTs tear off Jay’s shirt so they can take over CPR and use the AED.

Jay jolts with shock, his body bowed up.

Three times, they go again…until the brave EMT from before says, “Yes! We got a shockable rhythm and a pulse. Breathing on his own now. Vitals are BP 60/35, heart rate 128, O? 88. Let’s get him stabilized and ready for transport.”

“You hear all that?” Gideon whispers, but Finn doesn’t say anything. “Meet us there.”

“Gid—” Finn starts, but Gideon disconnects. He can’t face them right now.

The fear roiling in his gut hasn’t lessened with the near miss. He’s not na?ve enough to think Jay is in the clear.

Jay is rolled into the back of the ambulance, and it pulls away, sirens blaring and lights flashing.

As he’s climbing into the Buick, he catches Melody’s eye and gives her a nod of thanks.

She raises a bloody hand at her side in a wave to let him know she sees him. She intercepts the police, and Gideon lets them slip from his mind so he can follow the ambulance as close as he dares.

It’s not like they won’t show up at the hospital, eventually.

The entire trip to the hospital is made under full sirens, and as Gideon flies through the lights, tight to their bumper, he’s only thinking about Jay.

The moments before that bullet took Rhodes’s heart out of his chest play over and over again in his mind. He sees that last minute when Jay had changed places with his father—how that small dance for dominance had changed their places.

For one sickening second, Gideon sees that red bloom over Jay’s heart, not Rhodes’s, as the image sears itself into his mind.

It had been fucking chance. It hits him then—how he’d been a fucking fool. Why had they thought Carnell wasn’t dead fucking serious? They’d been so sure— he’d been sure—he’d have wanted Jay alive for leverage.

Except, when in Gideon’s life hadn’t Carnell wanted something to hurt as much as possible? To Gideon and Jay, that had meant separation and torture.

Not for the faint of heart, for sure. Even so, as long as Jay was alive, Gideon wouldn’t rest until he was free.

Carnell had outsmarted him. Again.

That had been a high-powered round from at least two hundred feet, and, based on the size of the hole, it had been intended to end Jay in the blink of an eye.

The death of his beloved mate will—no, would —push Gideon over the edge.

The surge of rage is so intense he gives in to the urge to roar and shake the steering wheel. It creaks warningly under his tight grip, and the Buick swerves up and over the curb, causing pedestrians to run in all directions.

Gideon wants his father’s heart in his hand, wants to watch him scream in pain—wants it so badly his fangs drop and his vision goes red.

What Carnell hasn’t anticipated is that if Jay dies, then Gideon won’t stop until Carnell is dead, even if it means mutual destruction.

He’s seconds away from turning the car toward Island Estates, teetering on the precipice when the ambulance pulls into the ER Trauma arrivals.

He can’t follow into the garage, so he forces the Buick up and over the curb, parking on a grassy knoll, parallel to the driveway.

A security guard is running toward him when he pushes the Buick’s door wide.

“Sir! You can’t park—” the guard starts, but just hearing the words has Gideon rounding on the man with a snarl.

“Uhh—holy shit—fuck!”

He throws the keys at him and ignores the shouts as he stalks toward the ambulance in the unloading bay. He’s let Jay out of his sight for ten minutes too long already.

When he arrives, they’ve already wheeled Jay in through the sliding glass doors, and there’s not a trace of him except the smoky scent of pain and— no.

He wants to barrel into the ER and shout for someone to help him, to take him to his mate right the fuck now, but he spots the third EMT in the back of the ambulance, cleaning blood—Jay’s blood—off the floor.

“Tell me,” he growls.

“Alpha, sir…”

“Fuck, please,” he begs. “Did he at least get here alive?”

The EMT nods. “He did, but he coded twice. Em and Lucy are the best, though. They got him back. He’s here now. They’ll have him in surgery already.”

Gideon crouches right there, relishing the pain in his chest. It must only be a fraction of what Jay is going through right now, and it tells Gideon that somehow, some way, he’s alive somewhere .

The young man crouches beside him, not touching but offering support. “You saved him. The CPR means he’s still here. You did the best you could.”

Saved him? No. He’s the reason Jay is in Carnell’s way in the first place.

But Gideon’s done thinking about that shit right now.

When Jay is back where he can kiss and yell at him for stupid shit, he’s going to have a nice long cry.

Until then, he’s going to keep himself warm by thinking of all the ways Carnell is going to pay.

“Come on, let’s find you a shirt and you can wash up. You’re scaring the patients. You have a pack you want to call?”

He looks down, and there’s blood covering his hands, past his wrists, and all over his bare chest. It’s macabre and a horrific reminder. It’s no wonder the security guard looked freaked out.

“Yeah, they’ll be here soon.” He can’t meet them in the waiting room looking like this. “Yeah, okay.”

“They’re coming? You shouldn’t be alone.”

Gideon nods and follows the EMT through the bay, and there’s a faint scent of smoky pine. It makes Gideon’s stomach roil as he spots small red droplets down the hall and a custodian using a mundane mop to wipe it up—like it’s not what keeps his beloved mate alive, like every drop isn’t precious.

They turn away from the busy area, where the curtains of a few med-bays are pulled closed. A baby is crying, and someone snoring. It’s not at all busy, given it’s a Were facility, but still, he must look like a madman.

He’s grateful when the EMT shows him into a staff restroom and points to a shower. “I’ll be back with scrubs. Go ahead.”