Axel's Pup (56 page)

Bayden stared across at him. He made no move to close the gap between them. Even if he was physically capable of it, Axel knew Bayden wouldn’t approach a more dominant wolf.

A bet was a werewolf’s way of reminding humans how difficult it was to break them. Axel had never seen a man closer to being broken than Bayden had been since his grandfather’s death. Poor little sod.

Axel crossed the room and stopped just in front of Bayden. Up close, the wounds looked even more painful. It took Axel years to make words happen but, when he finally spoke, he sounded impossibly calm. “What happened?”

“I took a bet, sir, on a fight.”

“You lost?” Axel frowned as he struggled to make sense of it. Bayden didn’t lose. The way he fought, it was impossible to think of any human winning against him. Unless it wasn’t a human. Bayden wasn’t the only wolf in the world. “A fight with another shifter?”

That was better in a way. It wouldn’t cut Bayden’s pride so deep. He’d survive that far more easily. But Bayden shook his head.

Bayden’s hand rested on the bar. Axel caught hold of his wrist and studied his knuckles. There wasn’t a mark there. “You didn’t fight back.”
I know better than to hit a cop.
Possibilities clicked together. Bile rose in Axel’s throat. “A cop?”

Bayden shook his head again. He reached into his jacket pocket with his free hand and pulled out a thick fold of notes. He offered them to Axel. “For the gravestone.”

“You lost the bet,” Axel reminded him.

“I didn’t win the fight, but I won the bet, sir.” His words were slurred by his injuries, but there was no mistaking them or their meaning.

“You bet on the other guy. You threw the fight? You…” Axel managed not to throw up, but it was a near run thing. “What was the bet?” he demanded.

“That we could fight for three minutes without me landing a single blow.” There was no emotion in his voice. He wasn’t a scared little pup who’d been cornered into a horrible bet and needed his dom to tell him everything was okay. He wasn’t someone who’d come face to face with a bent cop and done whatever it took to survive.

All the fear Axel had felt when he first saw Bayden’s injuries cooled into unadulterated fury. “Who set the terms?”

Bayden hesitated.

“Who suggested that as a bet?” Axel repeated.

“I did, sir.”

Part of Axel had already known what the answer would be. The confirmation still hit him like a right hook. Axel had been angry the moment he saw the first bruise, but that had been directed at a nameless faceless spectre that had hurt his pup. Now, Axel knew who was responsible, who had made this happen.

“Get out.”

Bayden tried to pull away.

Axel tightened his grip on his wrist. “Not you—
you
stay.” He turned to the men on the other side of the bar. “Everyone else, get out—now.”

The Dragons started ushering men out, with varying levels of politeness depending on the Dragon.

When everyone else was gone, Griz and Hale came back, Evan trailing along in Griz’s wake.

“I said everyone out,” Axel told them.

“Sir?”

Axel glanced at Evan. The boy looked up at Griz, big blue eyes full of concern.

“That’s not something you have to worry about,” Griz promised.

Evan looked from Bayden to Axel and back, apparently not convinced. Axel turned his attention to Bayden. As far as he could tell past the bruises, Bayden didn’t share Evan’s worries.

“Um…” Evan cleared his throat. “Bayden?”

Bayden glanced at him, but he didn’t even seem to understand what Evan was asking.

“He wants to know if you feel safe being left alone with me,” Axel translated through gritted teeth.

“Of course I do.”

“If you’re sure,” Evan said. Griz led him away a few seconds later.

Only Hale remained there. Axel glared across the bar, knowing that Hale was judging the grip he had on his temper. “Do you have doubts too?”

“On you keeping your temper? Yes.”

“If you think I’d—”

“I think he’s a bloody hard man to track down if you say the wrong thing and scare him away,” Hale cut in.

Axel looked down at the grip he had on Bayden’s wrist. “Neither of us is going anywhere.”

“Is that right, Bayden?” Hale asked.

“I won’t leave if I’m allowed to stay,” Bayden said.

Hale seemed to accept that. The room was very quiet when he left. Axel stared at the door for what felt like hours before he turned back to Bayden.

Bayden offered him the notes once more.

Hale was right about one thing. Throwing a tantrum wouldn’t help, it would just risk scaring Bayden away. Axel temporarily caged his temper as best he could. “There’s no doubt that you’re allowed to stay, you understand that?”

Bayden nodded. It was a cautious action, but it wasn’t obvious if that was because he was wary of committing himself or because his head had to hurt like hell.

“You need my permission to leave the pub while you’re submitting to me, and nothing I say is going to equal permission for you to leave. If something makes you doubt that, you ask—you don’t leave.”

Bayden nodded again. He glanced down and offered the money yet again. He really didn’t seem to get why Axel wasn’t taking it.

“Did you have this planned before I left?” Axel demanded.

Bayden shook his head. He fidgeted with the money. “You said I’m allowed to take bets on fights, sir.”

“If you thought I’d have given you permission to do this, why did you wait until my back was turned?”

Bayden shuffled his feet but failed to volunteer any information.

Axel ground his teeth together. “Who was the bet with?”

“Ford. Everyone saw him lose the first time I came here. He—”

“He has no idea what being a Dragon means,” Axel bit out. “He actually thought this would impress us.”

“Hale threw him out,” Bayden said. “But…”

The idea of hearing him defend Ford made Axel sick to his stomach, but he couldn’t seem to make his lips move to stop him.

“It was just a bet, sir. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

Axel grabbed hold of Bayden’s arm and spun him around so he faced the mirror behind the bar. “You don’t think this is wrong?”

Bayden seemed to try to frown at his reflection, but his eye was too swollen to allow for much facial expression. “The bet was—”

“Would you have kept hitting someone who looked like this?” Axel demanded.

Bayden swallowed.

“Would you keep hitting someone who wasn’t hitting you back?”

Bayden shook his head.

“That’s why he’ll never be one of us. And it’s why Hale got rid of him before I got here.” If he’d still been there, Axel would have done his damnedest to kill him. The only way Ford would have walked out of there alive would have been if the other Dragons had managed to physically restrain Axel.

Bayden met Axel’s gaze in the reflection as best he could. Axel took another deep breath. His own anger would have to wait. Standing behind Bayden, looking over his shoulder into the reflection, he forced himself to consider the injuries as objectively as possible.

“Has anyone looked you over?”

Bayden hesitated.

Axel wasn’t in the mood for that. “Well?”

“Tolmore wanted to, sir,” Bayden said.

“But?”

“It was the end of my break.”

“And?” Axel prompted.

Bayden looked down. “You said I don’t have to submit to anyone else, sir.”
And I’d never trust anyone but you to patch me up.
The unsaid words rang through Axel’s head more loudly than the ones Bayden whispered.

Axel turned Bayden toward him. He forced as much emotion out of his voice as possible. “I’ll bet Griz and Hale tried a few orders too.”

Bayden nodded.

Axel ran his thumb as gently as possible over the bruise on Bayden’s jaw. “They told you to wait until I got back and that you shouldn’t take the bet?”

He nodded again. “But your rules say I’m allowed to take bets on whatever fights I want—as long as I take them here and when there are other people around to make sure everything stops if I say the word.”

“The difference between your previous fights and this one didn’t occur to you?” Axel asked, with forced patience.

Bayden shook his head. He seemed genuinely confused.

Axel stepped back. “Upstairs. Now.”

In the flat, he led Bayden straight into the en suite off the master bedroom.

“Undress.”

Bayden offered him the money once more.

Axel folded his arms rather than take it. A few moments of hesitation and Bayden put the notes down next to the sink.

As Bayden stripped off his clothes, he revealed the full extent of the beating he’d taken. His whole torso was a motley of different colours. There were scrapes where he’d obviously hit the ground hard. A particularly dark bruise on his ribs had to have been inflicted by a boot.

Most of the hits that Bayden had allowed to land had been body blows. Pictures flashed through Axel’s mind, each one worse than the last. Bayden had had the skill to end the fight whenever he’d wanted, and he’d chosen to let Ford land every one of those blows—he’d preferred that than let Axel lend him a few hundred quid.

Axel nodded to the shower.

Bayden stood under the water apparently unconcerned by the hot spray hitting his injuries. If the soap stung against the cuts and grazes, he didn’t mention it. He scrubbed himself down exactly as he usually did, but when he reached for his towel, Axel stepped forward.

Grabbing the first towel to hand, which happened to be one of his own, Axel started to dry Bayden, checking him over inch by inch in the process.

“You’ll get blood on it, sir,” Bayden protested.

“You should worry less about getting blood on things and more about the fact you’re bleeding,” Axel growled.

Bayden pulled back. He dropped his head. It was as if someone had flicked a switch. Axel had never seen such a rapid display of submission from him.

“Come here.” His best efforts failed to gentle his tone.

Bayden stepped closer, but he didn’t glance up. He didn’t look defensive; he looked vulnerable. Axel gritted his teeth. Instincts warred inside him, half wanting to throttle Bayden, half wanting to wrap him in cotton wool and make sure he never got hurt again.

Unfortunately, neither option was viable.

Bayden remained very still while Axel worked his way over him. The beating was worse than the result of every fight Axel had seen him in put together, but Bayden didn’t flinch or make a sound.

Once Bayden was dry, Axel led him into the kitchen. Bayden was nothing if not persistent. He didn’t try to pick up any clothes, but he brought the money with him and tried to hand it to Axel again.

Axel scrubbed at his own face with his hand. “You really don’t get why I’m mad at you. Do you?”

Bayden glanced at the money. “It’s all there, sir.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Axel got out the first aid kit and sat down at the table. He indicated the other chair to Bayden.

The routine had become unbearably familiar.

Bayden sat in silence as Axel worked on him. He didn’t react to anything, until Axel ran his fingers very lightly over a bruise high up on his ribs.

Bayden gasped.

“That hurts?” Axel’s eyes narrowed. He hadn’t pressed hard and Bayden’s pain tolerance was through the roof. It shouldn’t have been that tender unless his ribs were completely demolished.

Bayden shook his head. “The marks—they don’t mean anything unless they’re from you, sir.”

Axel went back to work. “They don’t mean you belong to anyone else, but that doesn’t mean I like them.”

“I can still do whatever you want me to, sir.”

“You’re in no condition to play,” Axel snapped.

Bayden moved to the edge of his chair, obviously relieved to think he’d finally worked out what the problem was. “I can, sir.” He thought for a moment. “If you’re behind me, then—”

“You’re in no condition to play,” Axel repeated. “You were in no condition to be left alone here tonight, either.” And that was the real problem, wasn’t it? God, what had he been thinking, letting Bayden out of his sight?

“I’m fine.”

“If you were fine, you wouldn’t have done this.” Axel ran a fingertip over one of Bayden’s many bruises. “Would you?”

“Wanting to pay you back doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me. I always paid my own way. Whatever money we needed, it was never a problem. I might not be as good a wolf as my grandfather was, but I’ve always paid my way. I…” He took a shaky breath. “I should have been able to handle it from the start. You shouldn’t have had to—”

“I had no problem paying for it,” Axel cut in, unable to pretend that the money was in any way important.

“He wasn’t your responsibility. He’s wasn’t part of your pack!”

“But you are.”

Bayden opened his mouth. He closed it. Words didn’t happen. He stared at Axel as if he’d risen from the dead following crucifixion.

Axel’s eyes narrowed. “You’re part of my pack,” he repeated.

Bayden just stared at him, but for the first time in what felt like a long time, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Bayden’s desperation for the word finally gave Axel something to catch hold of.

“Do you doubt you’re part of my pack?” Axel demanded.

Bayden looked down. “I…”

“You’ve felt like you’re part of my pack for a long time, haven’t you?” He pushed.

Bayden didn’t deny it.

Axel scrolled rapidly through everything he knew about packs—everything Bayden had let slip, everything Kincaid had written about in his book.

“I treat you like you’re part of my pack, don’t I?”

Bayden nodded.

“Since when?”

“The first day.” Bayden cleared his throat. “Since the first day we met.”

“Yes.”

Bayden swallowed. “I…I was, or I am, sir?”

“You
are
part of my pack. The club—The Dragons—they’re my pack, and you’re part of that. It will take the jacket to make it official, but everyone knows that you’re one of us, that you’re part of my pack.”

“Humans…”

“Are just as capable of forming a pack as wolves.” Axel held Bayden’s gaze, daring him to think differently. “And we’re just as capable of taking a mate.”