Tight-lipped, Silas Knight stepped off the private jet. Security was tight, as it should be. A costly mistake had occurred. Cameron, his godson, should not be in this military facility. Worse, the officers in charge refused to release him to the shifter hospital in the same area.
His anger buffeted everyone within close proximity. Alphas, who had come from multiple states, bowed in respect as he strode toward the car that would transport him to the hospital.
“La Patron,” the local Alpha, Jayden Knight, murmured, head bowed. “Welcome to Bethesda. A car is prepared to take you to the Hospital where a shifter doctor has taken over the case. Cameron’s papers are drawn and his transfer is awaiting your inspection.”
“Good, thank you.” He turned and gazed at all those who had come in deference to his visit and nodded. “I will be here for a few days. We will meet and discuss matters of importance to you soon. I look forward to talking with you.”
The somber faces smiled graciously. Their excitement tangible in the stale air of the hangar. In spite of his godson’s condition, life went on, and these men had pressing concerns to discuss with him. Keeping his face neutral, he waited until his security detail gave him a nod, and entered the car. Under normal conditions he would have bought his own car. But appearances needed to be maintained.
At least for now.
“I apologize for the mix-up, your Honor,” the doctor said in low tones. “It appears the commander in Afghanistan who normally handles these transfers was in the field. Your godson departed with a few other injured soldiers to Germany instead of France. Later, they shipped him here. The attending physicians did not have a chance to look at him. I took over within an hour of his arrival. The head physician wanted to have a team examine him before approving the transfer to the specialty hospital,” the smaller man said as he walked alongside Silas.
At the last comment, Silas stopped and raised his brow.
“None of them did,” the doctor rushed to say. “I brought in another team who approved the change of venue.”
“I am disappointed over such a break-down in the system. We have people in place all over the world to prevent these incidents. Now, I must decide if this happens often. The military notified me because I am listed as his next of kin. Otherwise, I would have had no knowledge of the fuck-up.”
The doctor swallowed hard and followed Silas down the hall. Security checked and approved the safety of the hospital floor. Employees glanced in his direction, but quickly averted their eyes. His long-legged stride through the sterile space signaled his frustration. His aides walked a few feet behind him, waiting for a sign to come forward. The door to his godson’s room opened as he approached.
His heart stuttered at the sight of bandages and machinery attached to the young man who was like a son to him. One of his greatest sorrows in his long life was his inability to reproduce. Cameron’s parents had been his closest friends before his rise as Patron, and he’d promised to look after their son before they died in a tragic hunting accident
“Cameron,” he lowered his voice as he spoke, not wanting to frighten the younger man.
At first there was no response. Then a slight movement of his hand signaled he’d heard.
“Son, I am here. We will take you where you can recuperate faster. You need special care, Doctor Fields has already made the arrangements, you will be leaving soon.” He moved closer and touched the young man’s hand. The slight flinching beneath his confirmed Cameron heard and knew someone, if not him in particular, was with him. For the moment he had to be satisfied with that.
“We will discuss this attraction you have with dangerous situations when you are able. You promised to focus on a family, that means a mate, kids,” whispering, he leaned forward. “Pups.” He pulled a chair near the bed and sat, hand on top of the injured man’s hand and waited.
Within minutes, a gurney entered the room, and the transfer process started. “La Patron, may I have a word with you?” Dr. Fields asked with some hesitation and stepped backward.
“There is another case here that has caught my attention. I think you need to know about this one, there is an unregistered shifter –”
“He dies.” Silas retorted. “You know the rules.”
“I understand, but this is different. The shifter is unusual, he’s a hybrid.”
“A hybrid?” His brow rose, but his voice remained neutral.
“Yes Sir, I’m not sure what all the components are. Wolf shifter for sure, his mother and aunt are here. They are human, but their scents are not right. I’ve had their blood tested, and it’s positive, she’s his mother. What do you suggest I do?”
From the corner of his eye, Silas watched them load Cameron on the gurney while his mind latched onto the comments from the doctor. After living three centuries, a puzzle of any type was too difficult to ignore. “Let me see him, I should be able to identify his bloodline.”
“Thank you, Sir,” the doctor said, walking behind him and pointing to the room with the wounded man.
Cameron had received a private room. This soldier shared his space with other injured comrades. The stench of suffering and pain assailed Silas’ sensitive nostrils, leaving a distinct metallic taste on his tongue. With little effort he blocked out the other scents and focused on the lone male. As he stood near the door, the doctor spoke to the women and gestured to the male on the bed.
The doctor nodded and walked toward him. Together they left the room.
“He is wolf, with a hint of another shifter. It’s too small to determine the nature. What is his condition?”
“He has fractures in his legs and arms, took a hit to his head and back. They’d pronounced him dead in Germany. He revived, and is now here. He has had surgery on his arms and legs. They are trying to decide the next step for his head.”
Silas shook his head. The possibility of discovery was too great. He wondered how much the human part of the young wolf had kept his dual nature from discovery so far. “Take him with you,” he said.
The doctor nodded and left.
“Excuse me Sir, excuse me.” A small hand touched his arm before his guards could reach them. He stopped and looked at the brazen human woman. His brow lifted until she removed her hand. Things were becoming more and more interesting.
She stood around five seven, weighed around one hundred forty-five pounds, with large breasts and wide, round hips. Her dark brown eyes and full lips were prominent features in her oval-shaped face. Her flawless creamy complexion, long, thick, black hair covered a side of her face and gave her air of mystery. She was pretty in a willowy kind of way; unfortunately she had no interest in men.
“I watched you talk to the doctor who’s dealing with my nephew. Now the doctor wants to move him to another hospital. Why now? Why should my sister agree to this? Who are you?”
Silas couldn’t remember anyone ever speaking to him in such an accusatory manner. His first remark would have been cutting. However, he remembered his recent pain at his godson’s condition and decided to be civil. At least his version of civil.
He looked down at the woman and spoke in a clipped tone. “According to the doctor, he has a similar condition to my godson who’s being transferred for special treatment. Who I am is not important. And it’s up to the military to decide what’s in that soldier’s best interest, not his mother. Don’t forget, they own him.” He turned and left her standing.
“Smug bastard,” the woman whispered.
He waved his hand and kept moving.