Chapter 7: Theodore - Marked By Love

Theodore had stopped to say ‘hi’ to each cat in the front room before going into the back to the surgery theater. A giant tomcat meowed, a thundering purr echoing it. Theodore inspected the name tag. It read ‘Big Poppa.’

“Aww, what a seriously silly name for a kitty.”

A black face with white splotches appeared in the crate and meowed indignantly. Theodore brushed the cat’s fur through the crate. The feline’s response was to try and headbutt Theodore, the force of which was strong enough to send the crate teetering sideways.

“Oh, careful, big guy. How big of a cat are you to knock over your crate?”

A furry paw poked out, followed by more purrs. When Theodore got up to move along, he was chased by chirping and meows.

If Theodore weren’t on the run, he’d sincerely consider adopting the tank of a cat. Just another misery about his current situation … No friends, no family, and not allowed the luxury of a pet.

He went through the surgery checklist a second time while Gerald logged the stray cats out front. When Theodore was satisfied he was familiar with the layout and all the prepped trays were arranged for left-handed usage, he started to scrub.

After pulling on sterile nitrile, he readied to perform the neutering for the first cat.

The front door slammed open and shouting filled the front room. Margarette and Gerald rushed into surgery with an alpha. He was broad with a tangled mess of long caramel-blonde hair, dripping with rainwater, his tan henley stained with blood, a whimpering mutt held in his arms.

“I didn’t see ’em!” the alpha shouted. “I didn’t, I was driving. It was an accident.”

It was the same alpha. The one from the Town Hall, the grocery store, who had been casing his cabin.

Theodore seized a scalpel from the tray, eyes fixed on the giant man’s jugular. Had he hit this dog on purpose to get close to Theodore? Ensuring Theodore would be distracted by the dog’s critical condition that he’d let his guard down and the alpha could strike?

The alpha’s eyes, Theodore hadn’t seen from the bedroom window. They were gray. A blue gray, like the sea in a storm. And he smelled … he smelled like, what was that, oranges? It was nice, almost.

The alpha froze. His eyes slid up from the dog in his hands to Theodore’s face. His nostrils flared.

“Dr. Abbott!” Margarette’s scream snapped Theodore to attention.

Without realizing it, he’d raised the scalpel mid-way to the alpha’s chest. His hands were trembling, and his skin was clammy with sweat.

“Set the dog on the table. We’ll take care of it,” Gerald coaxed the dog from the alpha’s arms, then Margarette ushered him outside. Theodore faintly heard her asking him who the dog belonged to and a variety of other questions. When the alpha was out of Theodore’s sight, his thoughts snapped into place, and the heated flush left his skin. He began instructing Gerald on what they needed to save the canine.

Find the source of bleeding. Stop it. Stabilize. X-rays. Scans for internal injuries. They had a long way to go until this dog’s fate was secured.

His feet dragged, and his eyes drooped. He and Gerald had managed to save the mutt, and they’d stayed late to get through the full list of spays and neuters. Despite the bone-tired pull dragging him down, he couldn’t rest.

Not only did Theodore know it would be futile, but he had to run.

He hated leaving the pets from Elk Cove in a lurch, but if this alpha was working for him, the whole town was in jeopardy by Theodore’s presence.

Scurrying around the cabin, he seized the few items that had been removed from his bags and shoved them away. Piling his duffle bags and backpack atop the mess of blankets on the couch, he decided to take those too. He hadn’t had a chance to get paid enough to buy new papers and secure a hotel room. He’d have to sleep in his car.

He’d found the largest quilt and planned to tie everything into a bundle.

Something behind him moved.

Theodore froze, hand moving to his hip bag. He could feel the hard outline of his .38 inside. Ever so slowly, he eased the zipper open. His heart hammered, his palms started to sweat.

His fingers clutched the cold steel. When it was secure in his hand, he whipped around to face the kitchen. Outlined in the back door, a figure lurked. Messy caramel waves cascaded down massive shoulders as the alpha entered the cabin.

“Who are you?” the alpha growled.

Theodore eased his finger to the trigger and squeezed.

“Fucking hell!” the alpha dropped to the ground behind the kitchen island as the bullet missed him, lodging into the back wall.

“Did he send you here?” Theodore screamed.

“He? He who?”

“I won’t let you take me to him! You’ll have to kill me, and I’m not going down without a fight!”

Theodore panted, his whole body shook, yet he felt brave. How was that? He was utterly terrified. He was going to die here, he knew that. Nevertheless, he was confident enough to yell and fight back. Perhaps it was the knowledge of his impending death; it didn’t matter if he sassed off and the alpha got angry. He was dead anyways.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the alpha called from behind the kitchen island.

“You’ve been casing my cabin for days! I’ve seen you, wolf. And then today, you hit that dog. You almost killed it so you could storm the vet clinic without looking suspicious. You ID’d me, and now you’ve been ordered to take me back to him.”

When the alpha didn’t respond, Theodore kept yelling. Now that he’d started screaming, he couldn’t seem to stop.

“You’re disgusting. Working for him knowing what he is. And I won’t let you take me. Show yourself, you coward! You dog-killing, trafficking, piece of trash!”

In a flash, the alpha bolted from behind the island. Theodore squeezed the trigger. The alpha rolled across the floor, got his footing, then sprang.

“NO!”

Theodore screamed and yelled as the alpha’s hard body collided with him. They fell to the ground in a heap. Theodore thrashed and wrestled, trying to aim his pistol. The alpha pinned him down using his knees, then he wrapped both hands around Theodore’s wrist. He twisted.

Theodore cried out, the alpha was going to break his arm if he didn’t stop. He dropped the pistol and immediately tried to scratch and claw at any part of the alpha he could reach.

“Hold still, damn it,” the alpha demanded. “I don’t—”

Theodore jerked upward, his forehead colliding with the bridge of the alpha’s nose.

“Fuck!” The alpha released his grip on Theodore to clutch at his face, his knees still pinning Theodore to the floor. Theodore saw his chance and tried to punch the alpha in the nuts, then maybe hook a finger behind his eye. He’d be incapacitated long enough for him to run, grab his pistol.

Something.

Anything.

He might make it out of this yet.

The alpha grabbed Theodore’s shoulders and slammed him down before he got the chance to try.

Despair welled up in his breast. The hope, the shred of survival, slipped away before he’d had the opportunity to act. It was a lost cause to fight; it always had been.

Maybe while the alpha was tying him up for transport, Theodore would get another chance.

Maybe the alpha was just going to kill him now and leave his body.

“I’m not here to kill you or take you back to whoever the hell he is,” the alpha panted. His breath brought the faint smell of oranges to Theodore’s nose again.

Theodore wrestled. The alpha was too big, too strong. He wasn’t getting anywhere. Tears escaped his eyes as the gravity of this situation crashed around him. He was defenseless and weak. He always had been because he was just an omega.

The alpha stiffened. Taking both of Theodore’s wrists into one of his massive hands, his other pulled back Theodore’s turtleneck and removed his Coureque. Leaning down, he took a deep whiff of Theodore’s skin.

The alpha growled, and his eyes flashed gold.