Greykin Mountain

| 53 | Rest

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Jackson did his best to remain calm as he waited in line at the pharmacy. But the fact that the television behind the counter was showing the local police and hunters helping the people out of Ridge's Cavern didn't help with his nerves.

          In his arms, he held bandages, antibacterial wipes, sterilized thread, and some surgical needles. Damon was waiting for him, and the longer he stood there, the more pain the Alpha had to endure.

          "Next," the cashier finally called.

          He flinched a little and made his way to the counter.

          "Anything else?" she asked him as she started scanning everything.

          "N-no."

          She packed it all into a bag. "Four gold, please."

          Jackson placed the coins on the counter and took his things. Then, he hurried out of the store and back to the hotel. The streets were packed with hunters, guards, and police officers, who cleared the crowds of nosy citizens for the ambulances heading up the road towards the mountain Ridge's lair was inside.

          But Jackson paid no mind. He swerved through the crowds, dodged the guards, and reached Cliffton Hotel.

          He hurried inside and to the elevator. When it arrived, he stepped in and tapped his side nervously, waiting for it to reach his floor.

          The moment the doors opened, he rushed out, down the hall, and back into his room.

          "Hey," he said with a huff as he locked the door. He turned around and set his eyes on Damon, who was resting in his bed. "I got everything."

          Damon looked over at him and watched as he made his way over. "What's happening out there?"

          "The authorities are helping the people out of the cave and probably checking the whole place out, too."

          The Alpha grunted in acknowledgement.

          Jackson sat on the bed beside him and took everything out of the bag. He placed it all on the nightstand. "It's probably not gonna take long for the police to dig around and suspect I was the one that gave them the anonymous tip—I was the one looking into all the disappearances and stuff, after all—so we shouldn't stay here too long."

          "I should be fine to travel in the morning. I can't be gone too long, or my pack will start panicking."

          He nodded as he lifted the towel he'd put over Damon's wound and examined it. It was no longer bleeding, so all he had to do now was clean and close it. "I guess this isn't your first time getting shot with silver, then?" he asked as he nervously glanced at Damon's face—and when they made eye contact, Jackson's anxiety skyrocketed. He'd seen the Alpha's bare chest many times before, but there was something about being this close to him that made him feel much more nervous.

          "No," the Alpha confirmed as Jackson looked away and began cleaning the wound with antibacterial wipes. "We've had several encounters with hunters in the past. I've taken shots for my pack, two for Elias, and one for Tokala. When you're an Alpha, your healing abilities are more responsive. You can also endure a whole lot more than most other wolves."

          Jackson adorned a curious look as he finished cleaning the wound and started preparing the needle and thread to suture it. He then glanced at Damon, and when their eyes met again, he frowned shyly and stared down at the wound. "Thank you for saving me. I don't know what he would have done if I'd gone with him."