His head pounded, the pain so intense he wanted nothing more but to lie down in the dark and wait to die. He rubbed his forehead and held back a moan. Yeah. The hospital was definitely his first stop once Rick and Belle arrived. This was shaping up to be the worst migraine he’d ever experienced.

Ben made a disgusted noise and turned back to the driveway, his brows furrowed in an attempt to ignore the pain. Being Marshall meant that Ben could feel whenever one of the Pack members was hurting, which meant he’d felt every single one of Dave’s headaches and had ignored them, choosing to believe his mate was an alcoholic rather than just talking to him to find out the truth.

God, he had to get away from here before he did something epically stupid, like grab the man, bend him to his will through force and mark him whether he liked it or not. A huge source of Dave’s stress would be relieved at that point, but he was certain that solution would just lead to a different kind of stress. One he might not be able to live with.

Forcing his mark on a man who held him in contempt would be tantamount to rape. Dave would rather run from the Pack, an Outcast, than do that.

No. He’d go away for a while, figure things out on his own and decide what he was going to do. One thing was certain. Nothing would ever be the same again.

The huge SUV Rick used for Pack purposes finally made an appearance at the end of the drive. Dave closed his eyes, praying that Belle and Rick would take pity on him. He needed to go, and soon. The pain in his head mirrored the pain in his heart. At least he now had an idea why Ben wanted nothing to do with him, but his head hurt too badly to really think about it.

“Dave?” He opened his eyes to find Chela, the Pack Omega, standing in front of him. She’d pushed Ben out of the way, her small frame belying the inner core of strength she possessed. “You need to go inside.”

Ben snorted. “Yeah. Run inside, Dave.”

Chela turned on him, a fierce mother Wolf protecting her pup. “Fuck off, Ben.”

Ben blinked, shocked. “What?”

“Dave, get your ass back in the house. And Ben, just get lost. Now.”

“You don’t give me orders!”

Dave moaned, unable to stop himself. Ben could shout almost as loud as Rick when he wanted to.

“In this instance? Yes. I do. This concerns my bailiwick and you’re stepping all over it.” As Omega she was in charge of the emotional and psychic well-being of the Pack, which meant she knew all about the heartache and frustration he constantly lived with. She was one of only a few who fully understood how broken Dave’s heart was. “Now get your ass gone, cabrón.”

If Dave had it in him he would have laughed. Chela didn’t break out the Spanish curses very often, but when she did the rest of them tended to pay attention. The Omega was rapidly losing patience with the Marshall, and if he didn’t listen to her Ben would be dealing with more than one kind of headache. She was more than capable of teaching him the error of his ways. Calling him a bastard was just a warning; soon she’d break out the big guns. Whatever happened to her victim when she did that, Dave didn’t want to ever experience. He’d seen the results from the outside more than once and had no desire to find out what it was she did to them.

Ben darted a glance at him but he barely acknowledged it. Why should he? The remorse he saw there would soon be replaced with contempt again, and Dave was tired of facing that day in and day out. Even so, some innate part of him, the one that still, despite everything, refused to give up hope, pushed his mate to obey so the Omega would have no reason to punish him.

“Go.” He pushed, using his powers, forcing Ben to move. He’d pay for it—oh how he’d pay for it—but if he had to look at Ben one more moment he’d either punch the other man or start crying. Or worse, Chela would follow through in her implied threat, something Dave didn’t want to live with.

He couldn’t bear to see his mate truly hurt. Better to force his will on him this way than have him face some nightmare only he could see.

Ben hissed in pain, his shoulders hunched, his fists clenched in his hair. “Dave?” The look of pure shock and dismay on his face would stay with Dave for a long time.

Chela’s eyes narrowed as Ben fought his Beta’s order.

“GO!” Dave roared, pouring all his power into the command. The vicious pounding in his head increased to unbearable levels as he forced the Marshall to do his bidding.

Ben went, running. Thank God.

Dave collapsed, vomiting on the steps, his whole body wracked with spasms so strong he pissed himself while he heaved. That was how his Alpha found him, on his knees and in so much pain he was blinded by it.

They settled him into the SUV without a word and started back down the mountain.

“How is he?” Ben didn’t even look up at the doorway to his office, guilt riding him with red-hot spurs. He hadn’t been able to force himself to go to the hospital to see Dave. He knew what he’d find there. Hell, he’d seen his father in that position often enough. There’d be excuses and tears, maybe a lot of anger, but no real change.

Alcoholics never changed, not until they acknowledged what they were.

Still, it hurt something deep inside to know his mate hurt that badly and there was nothing he could do about it.

“I want to see you in my office, Ben.”

Ben blanched. Rick’s voice was lethal. He looked up to find icy blue eyes fixed on him, the tension in his Alpha’s muscles all too apparent. Rick was spoiling for a fight and looking at his Marshall like he was the punching bag. “Yes, sir.” Ben put his pen down and followed Rick into the Alpha’s office. He stopped short when he saw Chela, Ted, Belle and Jamie Howard, the Halle Puma’s doctor, seated in the room. “Rick?”

Rick moved to his desk but kept his back to Ben. Not good. “If this wasn’t a mate thing I’d be Outcasting you right now.”

Ben’s knees shook. Outcast? Him? What the hell? “May I ask why?”

Rick’s fist slammed down on the desk as he turned on his Marshall. “WHY?” Ben flinched. “My best friend and Beta is in the hospital because of you, and it’s not the first time!”

Something, the indefinable it that made Ben the Poconos Pack Marshall, cracked under the lash of Rick’s anger. From the widening of Rick’s eyes he felt it too, felt that first tentative break in the Alpha-Marshall relationship. Ted gasped, his Second also feeling a minute break in their relationship.

Ben was terrified for more than his mate now. If Rick Outcast him, nothing would save him. The Pack was all that kept him sane in the face of his mate’s addiction.

“Rick, allow me.”

Ben swallowed. Belle, the Poconos Luna, was smiling at him with that inane, vacuous look that meant she was contemplating something mean and probably painful. Her blonde hair was mussed, like she’d been running her hands through the thick, shoulder-length mass. Her green eyes were blank and sparkling.

He was in for a world of hurt. When Belle looked this innocent heads rolled. Or wished they’d rolled. His eyes automatically scanned her hands, searching for the air horn she usually carried.

Rick glared at him before nodding. He remained standing, all of his attention centered on Ben and Belle. His shoulders were tensed as if…

Fuck. He thinks I’m going to hurt Belle. What the hell was going on?

“Ben?” Seemingly delicate fingers snapped in front of his face, but Ben knew better. Those fingers could grow into sharp claws in an instant. “Look at me, Benny.”

Ben turned his attention to his Luna. Belinda “Belle” Lowell was arguably the most dangerous member of the Pack, and she wasn’t even Wolf. She was a Puma, and a former member of the Halle Pride. She limped toward him, the tap-tap-tap of her cane loud in the otherwise silent room. “You’ve been a very naughty boy, Benny.”