Page 45 of Expecting The Unexpected
CHAPTER 14
Terror. That was the only word Spencer could describe for how he felt. His gargoyle was in agony and he didn’t know what was happening, or what to do.
“Calm yourself, Spencer. He’s shedding for his rebirth,” Hron said, kneeling next to Spencer.
“What do I do?” Spencer asked anxiously, desperately needing to help his mate.
Hron handed him a cool cloth, “Just wipe his brow and talk to him. It doesn’t take long, but it is damn-well painful. I won’t lie, it can also be deadly.”
Spencer gasped when Throg shifted into stone, then to the leathery skin, and then to a softer skin. His hairless head started growing long, black hair and then went back to bald. Throg’s wings extended, then retracted as well. It was like his body couldn’t figure out what form to take.
“I don’t understand. Rebirth? Shedding?” Spencer asked as he leaned in, and started whispering words of love, and need for Throg to be okay. The thought, that his mate could die right here and right now just after they worked out their issues, scared the shit out of him.
Hron took the cloth from Spencer, and handed him another, “You must understand, Spencer. We are Nakaka... gargoyle if you will. We turn to stone during the day, and that will not be what we do if we bond. Just as shifters must keep their mate’s safe we must keep our Viata safe. If we are in stone form, how can we do that? The answer is, we can’t. The gods thought of this, and that is why when we bond, we shed. It makes us no longer weak during the time of the sun. It’s what the people that attacked us so long ago didn’t know, and it’s what helped save more lives than otherwise would have been.”
The screams from Throg had stopped, and Spencer wiped his brow, as once again Throg’s bronze-colored skin softened, black hair grew long, and his claws turned to nails. He was muscular, and his height, although not close to seven feet as he was in Nakaka form, he was still a good six five. He looked like a native American through and through, and,fuck a duck, he was hot.
Throg opened his eyes, and Spencer couldn’t help, but give a sigh of relief, when his mate’s gorgeous silver eyes were once again looking at him. “What happened.”
“You are reborn, Throg. Congratulations,” Hron said, with a smile as he stood.
Throg sat up, grunting. Spencer couldn’t stop from wrapping his arms around Throg’s neck, whispering, “You scared the shit out of me, you asshole. You should have told me about that shedding shit. I swear to the gods, I’m going to put cayenne in your underwear one of these days, if you keep pissing me off.”
The slight laughter had Spencer tightening his hold.
“As exciting as that may have been, may I ask what you two have come here for in the first place?” Hron asked.
Spencer pulled back and turned to Hron. “You’re a real dick sometimes, Hron, has Petree ever told you that? Because if he hasn’t, it’s just because he’s nice.”
“I know Petree likes my dick, but no, I can’t say he’s ever called me one,” Hron said, with a smirk.
“Again, it’s because he’s too sweet a guy. I’m not. Can you just give us a minute. My mate just went through hell, and you told me it was something that could have killed him. My sloth is not happy right now, and needs some reassurance that he’s okay,” Spencer said grumpily.
Throg groaned as he stood, “I’m fine, Salvator.”
Spencer shook his head, “You are not fine, you’re a Weeble wobble, but damn it, you are going to fall down. We need to sit.”
“A what wobble?” Throg asked.
Rolling his eyes, Spencer led Throg to one of the long-back chairs and sat him down. “It’s a kids toy from back in the day, and isn’t important. Now don’t move from there, until I tell you it’s okay.”
Hron snorted, “Already cock-whipped.”
Spencer turned to Hron, “Oh, puh-lease, like you don’t do whatever Petree tells you to. We’ve all seen it Hron.”
“Never said I wasn’t,” Hron answered with a shrug, “I just can’t believe the big, bad Throg would allow his Viata to rule over him.”
Spencer turned on his computer, “I’m not ruling over him asshat. I’m taking care of him. Big difference.”
The second Spencer was able to log in, he started tapping rapidly on the keys. He had to go deeper than he had ever gone before, and he had to damn well be careful. One wrong move and he could be found, and if that happened it could ruin everything. Tipping off the bad guys was never a good thing.
“Spencer, what’s going on?” Hron asked.
Spencer dug until he saw something that caught his interest. Sortie. What the hell? Carefully, Spencer peeked into the chat room, but no one was there, and the history had been erased. He knew this had to be the hate group Hron and Throg had talked about, but until someone was on there, Spencer couldn’t see who it might be.
Moving around a bit more, Spencer came across a group and stopped. Sortie meant an attack made by troops, and this one was named Foray. That meant an attack to obtain something... Could it be...? Spencer clicked to peek, and was surprised to see a conversation had gone on less than an hour ago, but this group had forgotten to delete it.
Amen: When do they arrive?