Day's Light

by M. A. Church

  “Mark—”

  “I need a minute, okay! Please.” He needed some space, dammit, or his head might explode.

  Hunter’s lips tightened, then he huffed. “Sorry to push. A shower is fine.”

  Thank fuck.

  “I will, though, be there to help you just in case you, ah, pass out in shock.”

  Mark scowled. Hunter would see him naked, but that didn’t worry him, and—wait. When had that happened? A quick examination of his feelings told him that he really wasn’t concerned that his nakedness would trigger Hunter into attacking him sexually. His gut said Hunter wouldn’t hurt him.

  Which was absolutely ridiculous. The man had kidnapped him, taken him from the scene of a murder, dug a bullet out of him, and bitten him. But he wasn’t the one who shot me, and he didn’t kill my mom and dad. Now, the kidnapping and biting him? That was totally on Hunter.

  “I won’t have you possibly cracking open your head if you should fall. But I’ll make you a deal. If you can get to the bathroom on your own, I’ll wait outside. So?”

  Hunter didn’t think Mark could do it. Righteous indignation rose in him. He’d make it to the bathroom if it was the last thing he did.

  “Deal.” He tossed the sheet and scooted to the side of the bed. Planting his feet firmly on the floor, he stood. Or tried to. It took two times before he was able to get his ass up.

  His legs trembled, but his body felt heavier. How did that work? He hadn’t eaten anything in two days. Well, until earlier, and that was just soup. Shit. He felt fine lying in bed. Mark reached for the table to steady himself.

  “Don’t you think having to use a table means something important? Like, maybe, you’re not quite ready to go this alone?”

  Asshole. But dammit, Hunter did have a point. If he couldn’t keep his feet under him now, there was no way he was going to make it through a shower, no matter how fast he took it. Determined, he took a step. Then another one. Then, one more.

  Holy fuck, whose bright idea was it to have the master bath clear on the other side of the bedroom? It was, like, five million miles away. He was sweating again and breathing heavily. Son of a bitch, he wasn’t going to make it. If Hunter made one snide comment, he’d….

  “Please let me help you.”

  Mark blinked rapidly. Nice. Hunter was being nice. Maybe he wasn’t such an asshole after all. “Maybe I do need some help.”

  Hunter beamed like he’d just won the lottery as he wrapped his arm around Mark’s waist and practically hauled Mark into the bathroom. Shit, he was dizzy. He eyed the shower. The thing was big enough to throw a party in, and thank all that was holy, it had a bench seat. He’d only seen showers that fancy in magazines.

  “Nice shower.”

  “That old thing?” Grinning, Hunter helped Mark sit on the toilet.

  Mark snickered. “Right.”

  “I remodeled not too long ago.” Hunter turned on the shower. Once he had the water running, he faced Mark. “I, ah, have an extra toothbrush if you would like to—”

  “Fuck yes. I’m pretty sure something died in my mouth.”

  Hunter grimaced. “I bet.” He dug out the toothbrush and slathered toothpaste on it. “Here.”

  It was ridiculous how thrilled Mark was with such a simple thing. He brushed his teeth vigorously. Even though he wanted to stand there and repeat the process a dozen more times, he needed to get this over with since his legs were really beginning to shake. As nonchalantly as he could, he eased back down on the toilet.

  “How hot you want it?”

  “Hot. I ache everywhere.”

  “Got it.” After Hunter tested the water, he explained how the numerous jets worked. “Shampoo and conditioner are in there. They’re homemade also. We don’t like strong scents. A pack member makes various items and sells them in town. Anyway, need me to help you up?”

  Mark tried getting up on his own, he really did, but he finally had to take Hunter up on his offer. Hunter’s grip was sure and strong. There wasn’t any of this trying to crush his hand in a show of strength, which would’ve just pissed Mark off. He hated when guys did that.

  Once he was on his feet, it was hard to ignore how unbelievably weak he felt. It was frustrating as hell having Hunter help him inside the shower, but the first touch of hot water on his body made it all worthwhile. He grabbed the soap, which looked to be homemade, and started scrubbing.

  “You can take the bandage off,” Hunter called out. “It should be okay now.”

  How the hell could it be okay? Annoyed, Mark fiddled with the bandage. After all, he’d been shot not that long ago, so how—he let the bandage fall to his feet as he stared at his belly. Holy shit, the wound looked as if it’d been healing for a few weeks, not a few days. The room did a nice slow roll, and he sat his ass down on the bench seat in the shower.

  “Mark? Mark! Dammit, I knew this was a bad idea. I’m coming in. Shit.”

  He heard Hunter’s words, but they didn’t really register because all his focus was on his stomach. There was no way the wound could look that good. It physically wasn’t possible. Gunshot wounds didn’t heal that fast. Right. Humans don’t heal that fast. But apparently werewolves do.

  Hunter blundered into the shower. “Are you seeing spots? Feel like you’re going to pass out? Throw up? Mark? Come on, talk to me!”

  Mark stared at Hunter, who just happened to be totally and completely naked. Desire, like a wildfire out of control, swept through him. Need burned hotly. Holy shit, that was two hundred pounds of pure sex right there.

  Mark’s gaze traveled over broad shoulders, down to a firm chest that had just the right amount of hair, and onward to washboard abs that made his mouth water. Dude was built. Like, seriously built. Amazingly so. And heaven help him, he had what Mark affectionately called cum gutters—indentions that led from the hip toward the groin.

  “Fuck.”

  Hunter knelt next to Mark. “What? What’s wrong?”

  Water from the jets drenched Hunter, making him even more sexy, if such a thing was possible. Talk about a wet dream, in more ways than one. “You’re built like a brick shithouse.”

  Hunter sputtered. “What?”

  Oh, fuck him running, did he actually blurt that out? From the shocked—and pleased—look on Hunter’s face, he had.

  “Mark?”

  “Sorry. Sorry. I saw the wound and kind of freaked. I, um, wow.” Son of a bitch, he wanted to climb Hunter. Mark was hard, and there was no hiding it. “You, ah, you must live in a gym full-fucking-time.” Stop talking! “Did you know that you’re uncut?” Why am I still talking? “I love an uncut dick. Best thing ever.” Kill me now.

  Hunter’s alarm fled, and a grin spilled forth. “I do know that I’m uncut, actually. Like what you see, huh?”

  Don’t answer. Don’t answer. Don’t answer. “Yes.”

  Fuck.

  “I’m going to kiss you. Okay?”

  Say no. Say no! “Yes.”

  Fuuuuuck.

  Hunter wrapped both hands around Mark’s knees and gently nudged them open. Mark gasped at how hot Hunter’s hands were on his skin. His knees fell open, not that he put up much of a fight.

  Hunter moved into the space, running his hands up Mark’s legs. They were touching, and Mark’s cock was deliriously happy with the circumstances. It jumped, bumping against Hunter’s muscular stomach.

  The jets still pounded them, adding to the insanity. He wanted Hunter to touch him everywhere, to take him firmly in hand and jerk him off, to open him up by pushing that long hard dick into him.

  I’ve lost my mind.

  Fuck it.

  Hunter wrapped his hand around the back of Mark’s neck and pulled him down. Startled, Mark didn’t have time for nerves to kick in as Hunter devoured his mouth.

  The kiss was demanding—full of desire and sweet aggression. Hunter’s tongue insisted on entrance, batting at Mark’s closed lips. With a groan, he fisted his hand in Hunter’s hair.

  The low, se
xy growl sent shivers up his spine, and Mark relented to the erotic pressure. Hunter’s tongue swept in, exploring. Dominating. Mark wanted more and moaned his need into Hunter’s mouth.

  Hunter tore his mouth away and nibbled a path down Mark’s throat. “My mate.”

  Mark stiffened. He let go of Hunter’s hair as those muttered words brought back a memory of something else.

  “We know nothing about this dude! Nothing! Why—”

  “He’s my mate.”

  “Oh, fucking fuck.”

  “Mark? What’s going on? Did I—”

  The concern in Hunter’s voice brought him out of the memory. He’d heard that word before, and if he wasn’t mistaken, it was right before Hunter bit him. Something was definitely fishy. “What’s a mate? And why do you keep calling me that?”

  Chapter Six – Hunter

  “WHAT?” HUNTER’S head spun. He needed blood to think, but it was all currently south of the border. Talk about going from one extreme to the other.

  “You seem to say that a lot around me,” Mark commented.

  “What?” Hunter shook his head, drops of water flying. “Huh. I guess I do. Sorry. Um, why don’t we get you washed up then we can talk, okay?” He couldn’t think with all that gorgeous, wet skin staring him in the face, and this conversation was going to demand his full attention. Fuck, he was hard enough to pound nails.

  His wolf wasn’t happy, either.

  He helped Mark out of the shower once they were done. Mark insisted on drying himself off, even though he struggled. Everything within Hunter insisted he help, but he kept his distance. He had already crossed one line, and damned if he wanted to cross another.

  “I need something to wear to bed—boxers or something. I don’t like sleeping in the nude.”

  As tempted as Hunter was to mumble the word ‘what’ again, he resisted. Instead he found an old pair of boxers. He much preferred Mark sleep naked, but he’d cross that bridge later. The fact that Mark was as comfortable as he was in the nude around Hunter was surprising, and he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  After Mark dressed and got into bed, Hunter got Mark another glass of water. Food was important, but the main thing was not to let Mark get dehydrated. Maybe he’d be able to get Mark to eat again. A quick glance at the window told him it was now dark.

  Mark yawned. Then again, maybe not. He was pretty exhausted.

  Mark sipped the water, staring into it like it held all the answers in the world. Unfortunately, it didn’t. Hunter did, and he dreaded this conversation. They were nearly two full days into the change, so Mark wasn’t out of the woods yet, and the last thing he wanted to do was upset him.

  Mark set the glass on the nightstand, cleared his throat, and met Hunter’s eyes. “What are mates? Why do you keep calling me that?”

  Hunter blew out a breath. “Werewolves believe there’s a higher power that directs our lives. Finding that one certain person who’s perfect for us is one of those things. It’s predetermined. They’re the yin to our yang—they balance us. That person is the only person we can ever truly love.”

  “Holy shit, you’re talking fated mates, aren’t you?”

  Hunter blinked. “Actually, yes, I am.”

  He wasn’t expecting a human to catch on so quickly. All werewolves knew about fated mates. It was the one thing they all yearned for. Mates were a blessing—a gift from the fates. But humans were different. They didn’t necessarily believe in that stuff.

  Mark’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, you think I’m your fated mate.”

  And this was where things got sticky. “I don’t think it, I know it. This is going to sound crazy, but I sensed you in that alley. There was this inexplicable urge to find you. To help you. Instinct told me that you were in trouble, and that I had to get to that damn side street immediately.”

  “I had a headache and wanted to go back to the hotel,” Mark mused, toying with the sheet. “Dad found a shortcut, but it was getting dark. I was worried. We were off the main strip. Hunter, it was a last-minute thing. There was no way you could’ve known I was in that alley, much less what city I was in. Hell, I didn’t know I was going to be in that alley until Dad started heading that way.”

  “Let me start from the beginning. Brax and I were tailing two werewolves who had come onto pack land and stolen from us. We tracked them to Vegas and into that alley. Was it pure luck I’d be in the very city you were? Was it sheer luck I’d be in that alley at the same time as you? Or was that fate? I believe I was where I was supposed to be.”

  Mark frowned.

  “Anyway, they attacked you and your parents before Brax and I could get close enough to stop them. I caught your scent and just knew. Look, ordinarily we don’t involve ourselves in human problems, and a shooting is a human problem, I’m sorry to say.”

  Mark crossed his arms over his chest. “Fucking hell, are you telling me that you would’ve just walked away if I wasn’t your mate?”

  Hunter cringed. “It sounds horrible, I know, but… yes, I would not have gotten involved. Our kind are a closely guarded secret, and we stay that way by not getting involved in human situations. But I would’ve placed an anonymous 911 call for help.”

  “I guess I can’t really get mad.” Mark massaged his temples. “No one wants to get involved. Not in this day and age. Too likely to get sued or worse. So, if I understand you, because I’m your mate, you helped. And by help, I mean you bit me.”

  “It was the only way to save you.” Hunter really didn’t like the dead tone to Mark’s words. “Normally when a human is changed, they’re vetted by the pack who, for whatever reason, has decided to reveal themselves. I didn’t do that. There wasn’t time, and I damn sure wasn’t going to watch my mate bleed out in my arms.”

  Mark dropped his hands to his lap. “You’re sure I’m your mate?”

  “No doubt in my mind. There’s something compelling about a mate—when we find that person, there’s this feeling of happiness. Completeness. We want to know every little thing about him or her. Our wolf often knows before the human side does, actually.”

  The skepticism on Mark’s face forced Hunter to speak quicker. There was anger simmering there. Hunter could feel it brewing.

  “But the biggest hint? There’s this sweet, exotic smell to a mate. It stirs not only the human side of us but our wolf too. I know it sounds overly simplistic to say the wolf ‘knows’ when we’ve found that special someone, but it’s true.”

  “By a scent.”

  “Yes, by a scent. You don’t get it, Mark.” And Hunter was desperate to make Mark see. The tension in Mark was rising, and Hunter wasn’t sure what to do. “No one has ever smelled like you to either me or my wolf. You are the most important person to me. So, yes, I mated you.”

  “Let me see if I have this right. Because of the way I smelled, you bit me.” Mark glared at Hunter.

  Hunter barely caught himself from jerking back in his seat. It wasn’t the look that startled him. No, it was the fact that Mark’s eyes flashed yellow. That shouldn’t be happening so soon. Not on day two.

  “You started a process that’ll change me into what you are, a process that’ll change my makeup on a cellular level. I’m not human anymore, right?” Mark snapped.

  “No, you aren’t human anymore.” Shit, shit, shit, did Mark not hear himself? Did he not hear that slight growl to his voice? “You weren’t the moment my saliva entered your bloodstream.”

  “So, you took this upon yourself to do without any input from me because of a scent. A fucking scent. I don’t know where to even start with that. You changed who I am as a person because of an odor.”

  “It’s not just a fucking scent, as you called it. My wolf reacted to you in a way he hasn’t ever responded to anyone. That doesn’t happen unless that person is my mate. And, you were dying! Literally bleeding out. What was I supposed to do? Let you die? I—”

  “You declared me your mate, again without any input from me.” Mark cl
enched the sheet.

  “I didn’t declare anything, dammit.” Oh hell, Mark had claws. That shouldn’t be possible this soon. “Fate did. I just explained this to you. Mark, I need you to calm down. I—”

  “All I’m hearing is you, you, you. You bit me. You mated me. But what about what I might have wanted? No one asked me if I wanted to be a werewolf.”

  “There wasn’t time!”

  “No one asked me if I wanted to be your mate!”

  That hurt, but Mark was born human and didn’t understand the significance of a mate bond. “It’s fated!”

  “You had the choice to bite me. You had the choice to take me as a mate. What about my choice? Did I get a choice in any of this?” Mark yelled.

  Hunter’s eyes widened when he saw the fangs in Mark’s mouth.

  “What fucking choice did I have in any of this!” Mark thundered, his claws ripping through the sheet. He looked down, surprise crossing his face. “What… what the hell? Hunter? I….” Mark pressed his hand to his stomach. “There’s something wrong. I feel weird.” Mark glanced back at Hunter.

  The fear in Mark’s eyes scared Hunter to his soul.

  “I… I….” Anguish twisted Mark’s features, then he threw his head back and howled. A full-throated, loud as hell, howl.

  Hunter’s heart damn near stopped. Mark howled. Fucking howled, which he absolutely shouldn’t be able to do right now anyway, but even more shocking? That was an Alpha howl.

  “Fuck!” Hunter scrambled onto the bed and grabbed Mark by the shoulders. “Look at me. Come on, Mark. Look at me!”

  Mark’s eyes weren’t flashing color this time. The yellow was steady, strong, and not going back to his normal eye color.

  “Shit!” Hunter swore loudly.

  Mark’s skin rippled, his arms flailing out. Hunter yanked his head back, but he wasn’t quick enough to avoid those sharp nails raking across his cheek.

  “Oh goddess, Mark, please. I need you to calm down.”

  Mark’s muscles clenched and released as he spasmed. Gasping for breath, Mark clutched his chest. His claws raked his skin, drawing blood. He tried to cry out, and Hunter saw Mark’s fangs were still there. Blood mixed with saliva dripped down his mouth where he’d cut his tongue with them.