Page 9 of Designation: Null

It’sa lot.Especially when he’s already not feeling right. Logan has to close his eyes and count to five so he doesn’t do something stupid like whine or go sit at the man’s feet. The gentle dominance, the promise that he’ll take care of Logan because he can see Logan struggling, is overwhelming.

“I’m not like this. I think my meds are off. They can’t know,” Logan whispers hoarsely, and the confession is a lot—fear at the confession, relief that it’s out and someone, a Dominant, knows. Jesus, it’s better than any release he’s ever had.

Although that doesn’t say much.

“Fair enough,” Robert says easily. “And they don’t need to. We’ll both keep it together, how’s that?”

“Yes… yes,” he agrees, pretty sure he didn’t say sir.

“And if in the future you need anything, please come to me. I mean it.”

It takes a while to be sure the tone will be right before he speaks. “You might regret that blank check offer.”

“You saved my life. I won’t. Anytime. Definitely consider it a blank check.” Robert closes his eyes, and even though Logan stares at him for a long time, he doesn’t open them again.

He wonders if the Dominant can feel his attention. Probably. By closing his eyes he’s stopped Logan from thanking him, from doing anything submissive when Logan is unsteady and vulnerable. The rest of the flight will be okay.

Robert will protect him. Robert is the warm fire that will keep him from freezing. Logan gets to stay here in a circle of heat and comfort. The weird and friendly dominance that Robert exudes will last for a while longer.

What if Robert is a good guy who happens to be a Dominant?

He’d confessed to Robert, something he’s never wanted to risk with anyone. One doesn’t blame the scorpion for stinging the frog. A Dominant will do what their biology demands. It’s their nature, as Aesop’s fable said.

Logan has protected himself by keeping the extent of his designation fluctuation a secret, and he has no regrets.

Now someone else knows. And Logan is positive that he can trust this man to keep his secret safe and not take advantage of him. He’s never felt anything like it.

Another thirty minutes goes by before he’s finally able to close his own eyes and nap, so comfortable in Robert’s presence that he’s able to rest.

When was the last time that happened? The answer is depressing. Not since he came into his designation.

3

Robert is injured enough that a medical team is waiting on the tarmac. “I’m fine,” he says, voice raspy, but he’s ignored and is told to stay seated. He’s taken off the plane in a wheelchair (which is really just offensive and embarrassing but mandatory) and while he wishes he could stay until Logan, the struggling submissive who led the rescue mission, made it off the plane and back to the safety of his own quarters, he can’t. He promised Logan he would keep his secret and so he has to leave it alone.

Right?

Why in the hell was a submissive put in charge of his rescue mission? He wasn’t gone that long! Not that submissives aren’t capable and good leaders, but Logan is a wreck and probably should have been home preparing to go into his cycle, not storming black sites and rescuing hostages!

He’s taken to medical, where he’s examined and has his leg put in a brace. He’s fed decent food and kept overnight for observation. At 6 a.m. he’s notified that his family has been told of his recovery, and then two military officers and a therapist come in and ask him questions about his kidnapping.

“What was the first indication that the mission was going wrong?”

Robert blinks at him. “When Captain Matthews was shot through the eye as we approached what was meant to be an abandoned base.”

“What happened next?”

“Gunfire. We tried to return fire. And then a canister was dropped down beside me, I breathed in something sweet, and I woke up in a cell.”

“What do you mean it was dropped beside you? Where did it come from?”

“I heard the buzz of a drone but I didn’t see it.”

“How many canisters were dropped?”

“I have no idea.”

“Was anyone else affected?”

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