Page 3 of Bound to the Hellhound
The humans in the room could feel the tension building, but were clearly baffled by what was causing it. They were unaware that they were standing in the middle of vampires, wolf shifters, and a hellhound.
“Everything is as your representative requested.” Mr. Tuffin assured, obviously hoping for a quick signature and an end to this meeting. Valerian continued to feel off balance, the air was thick with concern that did not belong. His discomfort was being felt by the Master, who turned to look at him, gauging the situation as Valerian shook his head.
This had nothing to do with the men in the room; it was related to what was below. Below them on a lower floor, the urge to leave was overwhelming him because something, someone was calling him. This was outrageous. "I need to go." He said, and everything stopped. His tone was deep as his hellhound was taking over. Whatever was happening, his hellhound wanted control, and that spoke volumes.
"What is it, Valerian?" Silas asked and approached him.
“My mate, my mate is here, and he is crying out to me.” Valerian barely got the words out of his mouth, and he started to shift. The room exploded with Master DuCane pulling his sword from inside his coat as the shifters advanced. They'd been spoiling for a fight, and this was all they needed, and the Master was more than ready to reciprocate.
“Go do whatever you have to do.” He said this with a satisfied smile. The Master's gut feeling had been correct, and the necessity of their presence was being explained in real time.
Valerian rushed from the room while the Master and Silas took on the shifters in the room and the others that funneled in from the hallway. The Master was in his element; few men enjoyed a good battle as much as Louis DuCane.
Valerian took the stairs; his hound was not patient enough to tolerate an elevator. The pleas and the cries were coming from the basement, and they were tearing at Valerian in a way that was red-hot and maddening. He couldn't seem to move fast enough, even though he was taking the stairs a flight at a time. His hound was leaping over the rails and descending the stairwell in record time while tearing apart any wolf who tried to stop him.
Anxious desperation was eating him alive as the voice and the fear reached out to him for help. The fact that it was his mate was blowing his mind, but he had to hold it all together for the moment. He had to find him and save him from whatever was taking place in that god awful basement.
Valerian was in a half shift, and he looked terrifying. He hit the basement level, and the fright of his mate hit him so hard his hound let out a howl that shook the walls. People in the area scattered and ran for their lives. Anyone who was too slow was tossed aside like rag dolls. Valerian had a focus, and it was the room at the end of the hall. The crying was ripping him open and pulling his heart out of his chest.
He burst into the room and saw him, and his heart broke. He lay there on the floor, bloody and still, his breathing shaky, and fear permeating every inch of the room. They were alone, but Valerian could smell the human and the wolf who had been there. He wanted to go after them to tear them limb from limb, but his mate was pulling his legs to his chest, his fear ratcheting up. It was so heavy in the room that it was nearly impossible to breathe.
The man was trying to protect himself and to hide. "It's okay, sweetheart." Valerian tried to speak, but his hound was making everything sound dire and horrifying. He moved closer, checking to make sure no one else was in the room. Everyone had run for their lives when Valerian showed up, everyone except this sad little beauty. Somewhere deep in his fear-addled consciousness, he knew that Valerian was there to save him. Fate was guiding him even though he wasn’t aware of it.
Valerian crouched down and forced back his hellhound, who was demanding to take the lead. His mate was not in a state of mind to handle a hellhound right now. He needed calm and care, and Valerian was going to provide. The man was hyperventilating and clutching at his knees.
“Breathe, baby, just breathe." He stated loudly and firmly, and suddenly the small man stopped, coughed, and took a deep breath. Valerian wasn't sure how he managed that, but he wasn’t going to question anything that was working in his favor. Fate was a mystery, and he would take any help she had to offer.
His head turned slightly, and slowly, gray eyes, afraid and timid, looked up at him, connecting to his own dark gaze. “Come with me.” He said to the small man and extended his hand. The gray eyes looked at his hand for several seconds and then, with mountains of caution, took hold, and in that moment, Valerian knew that he would never again be apart from this shockingly gorgeous little man. He was bonded in heart if not yet in soul. Valerian put on his kindest expression, picked him up, and held him in his arms.
He weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes and was so delicate that Valerian was careful of his hold, fearful that he would add to the poor man's injuries if he held him too tightly. "Who hurt you, baby?" He asked.
“He ran away.” He said. “You scared him, and he ran away.” The sound of his voice was soft and breathy like a whisper, but there was power there as well. He was struggling to pull himself together. Valerian could feel him trying to figure out what was happening.
“Why was he hurting you?”
“He doesn’t like me, never has.” That came out with a deep sadness. He was confessing a lot in those few words, and it had Valerian’s anger surging and his hound demanding a name.
"Who doesn't like you, baby?"
“It doesn't matter." He shook his head, uncomfortable with what he shared. "I'm leaving and I'm never coming back, so it doesn't matter."
“Let me help you leave.” Valerian kissed the side of his head and then, with his prize in his arms, ran from the room. He moved so fast he was nearly flying, intent on getting his mate out of danger and away from anyone who would hurt him. He felt his mate go limp, having passed out, which was probably for the best. His injuries were many but not serious, but the night was obviously overwhelming. "Sleep, baby." He said and kissed him again.
The touch of his soft skin sent chills through Valerian. His scent was fresh and clean, filling Valerian's heart and mind, and it was unbelievable. He burst out of the back door and into the parking garage, where Silas and Master DuCane stood swords drawn in front of their vehicle.
Master DuCane was looking pleased; apparently, the battle had been invigorating. “The deal is off.” He announced, and Silas chuckled. "How is your mate? Apparently, he is the reason for all of us being here today.” He moved toward Valerian.
“Fate is an amazing woman," Silas commented and also took a step toward Valerian. They were being careful, but they both wanted to see the man in Valerian’s arms.
“Someone beat the snot out of him, but other than unconscious, I believe he is well," Valerian reported, and Master DuCane came up close to stare down into the young man’s face.
"I know him. His name is Theo Tuffin, the youngest son of Nelson Tuffin. He always stayed in the back of the room and remained very quiet. I thought it was my presence that bothered him, but fear is a part of his life." The Master looked up at Valerian. "May I?" He asked, and Valerian nodded in the affirmative.
The Master moved the blonde hair away from Theo’s face and placed his hand on his forehead. “He has suffered much at the hands of his family.” Valerian clutched him tightly as if afraid someone was going to try to take him.
“He’ll be okay.” The Master looked at Valerian and smiled. "He has you, Valerian, and his life has just become a million times better than he has ever dreamed.”
“Whoever beat him escaped the basement before I had the opportunity to kill them," Valerian stated.
