The Exiled Alpha's Human Male Mate.[BL]

"I hate this night," Vincent muttered, following Bryce back toward Dave.

He leaned beside Dave and took his wrist, checking his pulse.

Whatever he felt beneath his fingers made the faint irritation in his expression disappear for a moment.

The pulse was dangerously weak.

He straightened, retrieved his phone, and placed a call. He waited only briefly before the line connected.

"The two of you, get to the location I’m sending you within ten minutes."

He ended the call without another word.

"Who are they? The doctors?" Bryce asked, moving away from Dave’s side and grabbed a pillowcase from the bed, he then wrapped it firmly around the blood-soaked cloth Vincent had already tied around Dave’s leg, adding another layer of pressure to the wound.

"I don’t get sick, so I have no connection to doctors," Vincent replied, standing with his hands tucked into his pockets as though the situation barely warranted his concern. "They’re people who will deal with these two while we take him to the hospital."

Bryce stared at him in disbelief.

"He’s dying. We can’t just stand here waiting for those two to arrive before we leave for the hospital. What was the point of saving him if we’re simply going to stand here and wait for him to die?"

Vincent remained infuriatingly composed.

Bryce pulled out his phone and began dialing.

"Who are you calling?" Vincent asked.

"An ambulance."

The call connected almost immediately. Bryce gave the operator the address, answered the necessary questions as quickly as he could, and ended the call.

The room fell into an oppressive stillness as they waited.

Minutes crawled past with agonizing sluggishness, broken only by the faint sounds filtering up from the club below.

Bryce repeatedly glanced at his phone, watching the time while counting down the ten minutes the medical crew was supposed to arrive.

Ten minutes stretched into twelve with still no sign of them, Bryce could feel sweat gathering along his forehead as his anxiety intensified.

Every time his gaze returned to Dave, the sight seemed worse than before. The colour had drained from his face, leaving his skin alarmingly pale.

Finally, a distant wail of a siren pierced the noise below. Relief surged through Bryce so abruptly that it took him several seconds to realize he had not been breathing properly.

Only when the sound grew closer did he draw a deep, unsteady breath into his lungs.

The medical team rushed into the room.

They immediately surrounded Dave, assessing his condition before lifting him onto a stretcher. Their movements were swift and practiced as they secured him and hurried out of the room without wasting a moment.

"I need to go with him, just in case they need any information," Bryce said to Vincent urgently.

"Okay."

Vincent’s answer was simple.

Bryce hesitated, something about Vincent’s expression made him pause.

"Where should I meet you for the meeting?" Bryce asked.

"I’ll call you."

Bryce nodded and hurried after the medical team.

He had barely reached the staircase when he encountered two men dressed entirely in black ascending toward him. One glance was enough for Bryce to suspect they belonged to Vincent.

He continued down the stairs, following the medical personnel as they carried Dave toward the exit.

By then, the club had begun to stir with alarm, conversations faltering into uncertain murmurs as people craned their necks for a better view while the medical personnel carried the injured man through the crowd.

When they reached the ambulance, Bryce was guided to take a seat at the front, but he could barely keep his attention from straying toward the back, where the medical team continued working on Dave.

It was not long before they reached the hospital. The ambulance doors were barely open before the medical team began moving Dave inside, wheeling him rapidly through the entrance and into a treatment room that Bryce was not permitted to enter.

He remained outside, watching helplessly as the doors closed behind them.

One of the doctors who had accompanied them in the ambulance eventually emerged.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Bryce asked immediately.

"Yes. The main concern is that he has lost a substantial amount of blood. If we replace it promptly, which they’re working on now, he should be fine. The wound is fairly deep as well, so it may take some time to heal properly."

The doctor gestured toward the seats nearby.

"Just sit here for now. I’ll bring you some documents that need to be signed. Oh... speaking of signing, are you family?"

Bryce hesitated for only a second before the answer slipped from him.

"Boyfriend."

He wasn’t sure whether he had said it because he truly meant it or because he needed to give them an answer that would make them consider him close enough to Dave to sign whatever documents they needed, without lying and claiming he was family.

"Okay, wait on the bench."

Bryce reluctantly returned to the seat.

A few minutes later, the doctor returned carrying several papers.

"Because he was in urgent need of blood, the hospital used some of its stored supply, which matches his blood type and was safe to administer. That was necessary to stabilize him, but he’s going to require more blood. We’ll either need someone with matching DNA to donate, or you’ll have to cover the additional cost of obtaining more blood, including replacing the supply the hospital has already used."

The explanation left Bryce momentarily frozen.

He had no idea what his own blood type was. In fact, he had never had much reason to find out; just as Vincent had mentioned, he rarely fell ill either.

For a fleeting moment, he considered asking the doctor to test his blood and determine whether it matched Dave’s. The thought seemed reasonable enough until another realization stopped him cold.

He was not entirely human, which meant his blood was fundamentally different from that of an ordinary human.

He abandoned the idea and reached into the oversized jacket he was wearing. He had placed his own documents inside earlier, along with Dave’s phone and wallet, which he had taken from Dave’s pants.

He opened the wallet, silently praying that Dave had a credit card, or enough money in the wallet.

Relief washed through him when he found one tucked inside.

He followed the doctor to the billing desk, used the card to cover Dave’s treatment and the additional blood, and received the receipt when the payment had been processed.

He return to the waiting area and began filling out the paperwork the doctor had given him.

His handwriting looked increasingly untidy as exhaustion settled over him, but he forced himself to complete every section before setting the papers aside.

He pulled out his phone and checked the time.

2:12 a.m.

Bryce stared at the screen for several seconds.

Exhaustion had settled heavily over him, and the thought of having to give a presentation in only a few hours made him feel even more worn out.

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