Two

Xander Blackthorne paused the music, nose wrinkling as the sharp scent of blood pierced the air. It was thick and fresh, someone was hurt and losing a lot of blood, and from the faint groaning outside, the fucker was dying right at his doorstep.

He muted the movie and stood up reluctantly. Thankfully, Jeremiah wasn’t home, his sensitive roommate would’ve lost it if he saw anything too gory.

Peeking through the window first, Xander’s eyes narrowed. A body was crumpled beside the dumpster. He cracked open the door cautiously, the metallic scent intensifying. But then something else hit him_familiar beneath the blood.

His breath caught.

“Jeremiah? Oh fuck_,”

He bolted forward, his chest constricted as he turned the body gently. 

“Jerry,” Xander whispered, shaking hands hovering over the gaping wound in his friend’s chest. He fumbled for a pulse. Relief hit him like a wave when Jeremiah whimpered softly.

“I’m going to lift you now,” Without hesitation, Xander scooped Jeremiah into his arms, blood soaking his clothes. “Who did this?” Xander growled under his breath, carrying him inside. “You’re losing too much blood, I need to take you to the hospital.”

Jeremiah stirred weakly. “No_,”

Xander set him gently on the couch and grabbed his phone. “The ambulance will be faster,"

“No hospital,” Jeremiah croaked, eyes fluttering. “Pol…lice can’t…, pl...ease”

Xander froze. The words were slurred but unmistakable. He didn’t have time to ask questions, Jeremiah was fading.

“Please,” his roommate whimpered, desperation cracking in his voice.

Xander clenched his jaw. “Hang in there,” with his hands slick with blood and his heart hammering. He hit the call button.

“Why the hell are you calling_,”

“Please help, I don't know what to do,” Xander choked into the phone. “He’s dying and_,”

“I’m on my way.” The line went dead.

“Hang in there, Jerry,” Xander whispered, clutching his roommate’s hand. “Help is already on its way.”

… 

Everett arrived at his brother's house in under ten minutes, barefoot, naked, with his blood pumping with urgency. The moment he stepped inside, the overwhelming scent of blood hit him like a blow.

“Xander?” he barked, storming in. “I smell blood, are you_,”

He stopped cold as his brother stepped into view, drenched in crimson.

“Everett,” Xander sobbed, staggering into him. 

Everett held his brother tightly against his naked body, ignoring the mess, “Are you hurt? What happened? Did someone_,”

“It’s not me,” Xander rushed out. “It’s my roommate. I found him by the dumpster but he was badly hurt and was losing too much blood. I didn’t know what to do or how to stop it.”

Everett exhaled sharply. “Have you called the hospital yet?”

“He wouldn’t let me. He kept panicking, saying something about the police. I think he’s in trouble.”

“You did the right thing calling me,” Everett said soothingly. “It will be alright, let me take it from here, okay?”

Xander nodded, leading him to the living room. “He was crying, I tried stopping the bleeding, but I think I made it worse because he cried harder, so I stopped.”

Everett listened to his brother rumble nervously normally he would have found it endearing if he weren't for the current situation. All of a sudden, the restlessness Everett has been feeling all day intensified as soon as he stepped into the room. His stomach twisted and half his senses shut down when his eyes landed on the injured blood on the couch.

“Is he going to die? I don't want him to die,” Xander asked, looking visibly shaken.

Everett snapped out of his daze, forcing his gaze away from the boy. “Xander. Breathe. You did good,” Everett reassured, voice calm. “I need you to stay calm. Do you still have that medical bag I gave you?” Everett watched his brother nod and continued, “Good. Bring a bucket of water, clean towels, the med kit, alcohol, bandages and spare cloth. I also need some clothes.”

“Okay,” Xander muttered, hurrying off.

Everett turned to the injured boy and everything inside him lurched. His gaze fixed on the boy, his instincts howled to the surface, drowning everything else.

It hit him like a freight train, his whole body going into overdrive with all his senses going wild. He had only felt like this once before but it couldn't be the same, right?

A soft floral scent clung to the boy under the blood. A scent that shouldn’t have mattered. But it did. It calmed him and riled him all at once

Human. Brown curls, pale skin covered in scars and barely clinging to life. He knelt beside the couch, observing him as if he were the first human he had come in contact with. He couldn't help but wonder what colour his eyes would be.

The boy whimpered, shifting weakly. “Let me go.”

Everett's blood surged with unbearable heat. His chest seized. The overwhelming urge to hold him, protect him, claim him. He felt it bone deep inside of him.

Horror crossed his face for the second time that day when he realised what it was. This couldn’t be happening. It shouldn't be possible. How was it even possible?

“Please don’t hurt me,” the boy cried softly, trembling.

Everett reached out, hesitating only for a second, then gently grasped the bloodied hand on the boy’s stomach.

The touch was electric. The moment their skin met, the boy’s fingers curled around his instinctively sending trails of accomplishment through Everett. 

“Shh… It’s okay, love. I’ve got you now. No one’s going to hurt you again,” Everett murmured, eyes softening.

Then he saw it. The mark on the boy’s neck. A bite mark. 

Everett recoiled inwardly.

Marked. Already claimed. Yet the bond was clear, unmistakable.

Impossible. This must be some sick joke. 

The Moon Goddess had mated him… to a human.

A human who already bore the mark of another.