Sharpened Claws: A Gay Werewolf Romance

by Peyton Bogue

  “I don’t want this guy coming near you again,” Rhys says after a moment of silence, moving closer to Sage and wrapping his hand around the back of Sage’s neck gently, stroking the soft skin.

  Sage turns his head toward Rhys, saying lightly, “I know you don’t, but I can take care of myself, Rhys.”

  Rhys nods, his eyes flickering down to Sage’s. “I know you can, Sage.” He moves in closer, his lips brushing up against Sage’s ear, sending a shiver down Sage’s spine. “But the thought of another werewolf touching you,” his voice turns sharp, and he takes a breath, “or scenting you,” a growl, “makes me go crazy, baby. I can still smell him on you.”

  Sage lets Rhys move his hand around his throat, spreading his scent more, and feels his body relax further into Rhys’s warm and safe embrace.

  “I know you can handle yourself,” Rhys says, exhaling deeply before continuing, “but it’s really hard for me to fight my instincts right now.” He rubs his thumb down the tendons of the right side of Sage’s neck, his voice softening. “I know I seem really territorial and possessive,” he starts, and Sage can see the way he’s gearing himself up to defend himself, to defend his actions, because he doesn’t want Sage to get mad at him, “but, God, Sage—just the thought of him being near you makes me want to rip his head off.”

  Sage can’t help but chuckle lightly at Rhys’s predictable overprotectiveness. “I don’t like it either, Ree. I don’t like that this werewolf has come into your territory without asking you. Who knows what he’s going to do—or what he’s going to try to do to achieve it. I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of him.”

  Rhys tightens his hand around Sage’s neck, still gently stroking, and says, “I don’t want him to hurt you.”

  “Do you think he would try?” Sage asks, moving to completely face Rhys, who slings his left arm around Sage’s waist, still unwilling to move out of Sage’s space yet.

  No matter how strong Sage is, or how stubborn he can be, he knows that he’ll never be able to match the mental and physical strength of a werewolf. He’s been around Rhys enough to know that a werewolf is at least a hundred times stronger than a human, and Rhys is the Alpha, which means that he’s even stronger.

  Rhys shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t want to find out. Hurting you would be the only way he’d be able to win a challenge against me.”

  Sage scoffs lightly, nudging a hand against Rhys’s chest. “You’re saying you, the Alpha, wouldn’t be able to take this punk omega in a fight?”

  Rhys shakes his head, grabbing Sage’s hand off of his chest and bringing it up to his lips, gently kissing the side of his palm. “No,” he says, serious but smiling softly. “He’s probably only about half as strong as me because I’m an Alpha. I'm faster, stronger. I’d tear him apart.” He kisses the center of Sage’s palm. “But I couldn’t risk you. You’re too important.” Then, even softer, “You’re the only weakness I have.”

  “Rhys. . .” Sage says, leaning forward so he can push their foreheads together. He doesn’t know what to say to that. He knows it’s the same for him, too.

  “If he hurt you, I’d kill him. If it would stop him from causing you harm, I’d give him anything he wanted, and that includes this territory, or even my life,” Rhys admits quietly after a few moments, so serious and honest.

  Sage’s heart stops beating.

  “No,” he says firmly, pressing their bodies together even closer. He knows Kai is still lingering around them somewhere, but Sage can’t think about him right now, not when Rhys is admitting that he would give up his life for Sage. “That’s not going to happen. You’re not going to kill anybody. None of this is going to happen, and if it does—so help me, God, Rhys Becker—” and Sage can’t even think anymore, “you are not going to die for me. I won’t let you.”

  He’s on the verge of panicking, and he knows that he needs to rein himself in, but he can’t help the gnawing sense of fear that creeps up his spine at Rhys’s words. Sage looks into Rhys’s eyes sternly, his body anxious. Rhys’s warm hands move up to cup his face, and Sage stares at him with wild eyes. Rhys can probably hear Sage’s heart beginning to accelerate.

  “Sage, calm down, sweetheart,” Rhys says soothingly, his thumbs stroking Sage’s cheekbones. “Breathe, baby.”

  Sage inhales sharply, closing his eyes, and leans into the heat of Rhys’s palms, letting the warmth ground him. He exhales slowly, opening his eyes to stare into Rhys’s.

  “Better?” Rhys asks him, his voice light, but his eyes are wide and serious.

  “Yes,” Sage says cautiously, frowning. The thought of losing Rhys at all is not a thought he ever wants to have. “I’m not letting you die for me.”

  Rhys winces at Sage’s words, a haunted look in his eyes.

  “Sage—”

  “No, Rhys,” Sage cuts him off sharply, his voice choked, panic still fluttering in his chest. “Why would you ever say that? You are not dying for me. I will not let you do that. You dying is not an option. Promise me.”

  “Promise what?” Rhys asks quietly, his jaw clenched. He’s infuriated, Sage knows, with his nostrils flared and the hard edge of his mouth clenched so tight it could be chiseled from stone.

  “You know what,” Sage says resolutely, stubbornly squaring his shoulders.

  Rhys is not getting out of this.

  It takes a moment, but eventually, “I promise,” Rhys whispers against Sage’s lips, his expression soft, the frustration gone from his voice. He says his words carefully, almost slightly wanton, like he understands what Sage is asking but knows he can’t promise it.

  Sage looks into Rhys's gray eyes deeply, but Rhys presses their lips together quickly, and Sage is helpless but to completely melt into him. Now isn’t the time for arguing. He’ll bring it up later. Like hell he’s going to let Rhys get away with this.

  A low whistle sounds behind them, and they both break apart and turn to see Kai, who’d wordlessly left the dining room at some point, holding up two bags full of takeout.

  “That conversation was heavy, guys,” Kai says, but he doesn’t look sarcastic or snarky. “Why don’t we all take a breather and eat, okay?”

  Sage nods, backing away from Rhys slightly and pulling him towards the dining room table. Kai follows after a few minutes, takeout bags in one hand and dinner plates in the other.

  Their favorite Thai place doesn’t disappoint, as always. It’s still hot despite the half hour delivery time, and Sage feels satiated if still a little on edge while they gather at the table and eat, glancing at Rhys repeatedly throughout the course of dinner, who just eats his enormous amount of food quietly as Sage idly tries to make conversation with Kai about the next football game and their excitement for the upcoming basketball season. Rhys is still brooding, but he lets Sage and Kai bring him into their conversation occasionally, and he keeps one of his hands on Sage’s thigh as he eats. He’s clearly still on edge, and his hardened expression doesn’t leave his face for the entire dinner.

  As they're all finishing up and scraping their plates, Kai’s phone begins ringing loudly from its place on top of the table where he’d laid it next to his plate, and Sage can’t help but balk slightly at the song choice of Kai’s ringtone, pulling himself away from his food.

  “Is that Sexual Healing?” Sage asks, barely holding back an amused grin. “Please tell me that the ringtone you have set for me is not Sexual Healing.”

  Kai gives him a wide grin, turning the phone around to see who’s calling him. “There is nothing wrong with a little Marvin Gaye from time to time, Sage.”

  “Okay,” Sage agrees, laughing, “but there’s Marvin Gaye, and then there’s weird, freaky sex vibes.” Kai just shrugs, his cheeks turning pink, but Sage gasps. “Oh my, God! You’re on a cleanse! Whose ringtone is that?”

  Kai gives him another nonchalant shrug, muttering, “Nobody,” before muting the call and placing his phone back face down on the table. Rhys makes a noise that sounds a lot like a snort, presumab
ly at hearing the blip in Kai’s heart from his lie, and Kai gives him a glare. Sage stares at him, a wide grin on his face.

  “Malakai Tate, you have a girl!” Sage says, leaning across the table and lightly punching Kai on the arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It’s nothing, man,” Kai says, but the tone he says it with implies that it absolutely is something.

  Kai is reluctant to talk about it though, but Sage knows that he’ll probably find out soon enough. Kai has never been able to keep important information like that away from him. Sage is just going to have to be patient.

  “Well, out of all the 80s songs you could have picked, Sexual Healing was the one that did it for you?” Rhys asks, taking a sip of water from a plastic water bottle and glancing towards Kai with a raised eyebrow, but Sage can tell that he’s trying not to smile from behind the lid of his water.

  “Sexual Healing is the most iconic song of all time,” Kai scoffs at Rhys.

  “No, Kai,” Sage says, chuckling. “Everyone knows Don’t Stop Believin’ is the best.”

  Kai gasps dramatically. “What the hell? Next you’re going to start waxing poetic about Hungry Like the Wolf. That’s more up Rhys’s alley, don’t you think?”

  Rhys looks at him with narrowed eyes, before deadpanning, “There are only so many offensive werewolf jokes I can take, Malakai.”

  Kai rolls his eyes. “Please, Becker. The anthem of your life is literally Werewolves of London.”

  Rhys just stares back at Kai, his jaw clenched and a bewildered expression on his face, before shrugging his shoulders grumpily.

  Sage’s phone begins buzzing in his pocket, and he risks a glance at Rhys, who looks back with a frown, before Sage fishes his phone out and answers monotonically, “Kaelan speaking.”

  “Hey, Sage,” Hazel says down the line, and Sage closes his eyes in irritation.

  “Hey.” There’s a pause, and when Hazel doesn’t immediately start talking again, he asks questioningly, “What’s up?”

  “Is Kai with you? Mikalina’s been trying to get a hold of him,” Hazel asks, and Sage can hear the excitement in her voice, pitching up her soft soprano, and something in the back of Sage’s head begins to light up like a warning sign.

  “Yeah, he is. Why?” he asks, his eyes flickering over to Kai, who’s already looking at Sage with a confused brow raise.

  Who is it? Kai mouths at him, but before Sage can say anything back, Rhys aggravatingly mutters, “Hazel,” his eyes staring steadfast out of the same window he’d came through earlier.

  “Can you put me on speaker? Or can he hear me?” Hazel asks. “I think I’ve got something.”

  Sage pulls the phone away from his ear obligingly, trying to shake off his irritation. He puts the phone on speaker, pointing the end of it towards Kai so that he’ll be heard if he decides to speak.

  “Go ahead, Hazel. We can both hear you.”

  “Alright, Detectives,” Hazel says, and Sage hears the distinct sound of a keyboard clicking in the background. “We’ve got Persian carpets and an Army tattoo. How does that equal gun smuggler?”

  Sage glances at his phone. “You’re still thinking the killer is someone Aldridge served with in the military?” he surmises, pursing his lips. He peeks over at Rhys from the corner of his eyes, hesitant. Rhys technically isn’t supposed to be hearing any of this information, but even if Sage hadn’t put the phone on speaker, Rhys would have heard Hazel anyway with his werewolf hearing.

  He’s still a little uncomfortable with discussing the case so blatantly like this. Rhys has already made it a point of telling Sage that he works too much, and he doesn’t want this phone call to cross the line and get him into another fight with Rhys, not when Rhys is so on edge and annoyed.

  “I cross-referenced the Second Hundred and Thirty-Second Airborne Battalion with New York City locals,” Hazel confirms. “Since the killer dropped the gun so close near the 78th Precinct, I’m thinking he knows the area pretty well.”

  “Maybe he lives over there,” Kai offers.

  “I got ten candidates from the search that served while Aldridge was active,” Hazel replies.

  “Did any of them drive a Dodge pickup?” Sage asks.

  “Our telepathy is working again, Sage,” Hazel chuckles at him. “I got a hit. Jack Newsom. He grew up a couple of blocks away from the liquor store where the gun was found, and the prints from the gun matched his through AFIS.”

  “What happened to him?” Kai asks, leaning forwards on his forearms in interest, pushing his dinner plate away.

  “He was honorably discharged, then went the way of the rap sheet. I’ve got a B&E in 2015, assault with a deadly weapon in 2017, and a concealed carry charge from last year. Now, he works as an independent truck driver.”

  “What kind of truck?” Sage asks.

  “A ’99 Peterbilt semi,” Hazel replies, sounding smug.

  “But he doesn’t work for Sirin,” Kai finishes for her, frowning.

  “He wouldn’t,” Sage says, crossing his arms. “He’s probably not smart enough. Remember what Kharkovy said? ‘Only the best and brightest.’ Background checks, and all that. Newsom might be our weak link.”

  “So, someone from Sirin steals the guns in Tehran, brings them into the United States, but he’s got to move ‘em so he doesn’t get caught,” Kai says.

  “That someone calls our guy,” Sage adds. “He asks Newsom the truck driver to haul some cargo.”

  “Haul some Persian rugs,” Kai says, agreeing. “That’s how the fibers got on the gun.”

  “Maybe Newsom got a look at what he was really hauling,” Hazel says, and both Sage and Kai look back to the phone. “So, he takes them to Steven Aldridge, a gun expert, to see what exactly he had.”

  “What he still has,” Sage counters. “Until he unloads them, which could happen at any time. We’ve got to find Newsom and his truck.”

  “Well,” Kai starts, smirking, “lucky for us, we’ve got the weight of the FBI behind us. We need to call Grayson.”

  “And Richards,” Sage reminds him, and Kai groans in response.

  “I’ve already got a broadcast out,” Hazel cuts in. “And I’m also in contact with every private shipping company on the road—UPS, FedEx, Amazon, and a few other trucking companies.”

  “Wow,” Kai says, his eyebrows raised. “Look at you being ahead of the game, Hazel.”

  Hazel laughs. “And I just got a hit. Our driver was spotted heading eastbound on I-495, driving a beige Peterbilt semi.”

  Sage’s gaze snaps up to meet Kai’s. “That’s like twenty minutes from here.”

  “We’ve got to go, now,” Kai says, “before this guy gets any more of those guns out into the public.”

  “I’ll call Grayson and Richards. I’ll have them meet you here,” Hazel says, before she hangs up abruptly, the dial tone sounding ominously throughout the dining room.

  Sage reaches down to grab his phone, hanging up the call, and Rhys’s eyes follow his movements, steely and calculating.

  “You’re going now?” he asks, watching as both Sage and Kai stand up. His hand falls off of Sage’s thigh somewhat jarringly.

  “We’ve got to stop this guy,” Sage says, reaching for his plate and picking it up, before he walks towards the kitchen to place it in the sink. Rhys stands and follows him, a deep frown on his face. “If these guns get out on the streets, a lot of people are going to die, Rhys.”

  “I get that,” Rhys says. “I’m not trying to argue with you.” He puts his own plate in the sink, following Sage to the front door where their shoes are. “But there is still another werewolf out there,” he continues, his tone aggravated but reasonable. “And I don’t want you going anywhere alone.”

  “I won’t be alone, Rhys,” Sage says, bending down to grab his shoes. “I’ll have Kai with me.”

  “Relax, Wolf Man. Do you think I’d let anything happen to him?” Kai says a second later, slinging his holster back around his waist.

  “I
’m serious,” Rhys growls sharply, crossing his arms and fixing Kai with a glare.

  “Rhys,” Sage says softly, putting his hands on either side of Rhys’s face to get Rhys to look at him once he’s done lacing his shoes. “I’ll be fine. We’re going to get this guy tonight, and then when I get back, we’ll talk about this omega and what to do with him. And then you and I can finally sleep.” He strokes Rhys’s cheekbones to soothe him. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  Rhys exhales a deep breath, leaning his forehead against Sage’s and nods. “I’m not letting you leave when you come back,” he tells him, resigned. “You and I have some serious sleeping to do.”

  Sage grins widely, chuckling. “I love you, grumpy. I’ll see you later tonight. I promise.”

  Rhys moves forward, pressing their lips together. Sage’s entire body thrums from the current that courses through his veins at the feel of Rhys’s lips on his. He melts into Rhys, kissing him harder, then pulls back all too soon. No matter how much he wants to stay and let himself be kissed so deeply the entire world melts away around him, he can’t. He’s got a job to do.

  “I love you, too,” Rhys whispers against Sage’s lips, kissing him quickly again. He pulls back, fixing Sage with a pointed look, desperation glinting in his gray eyes. “Please, be safe.”

  “I always am, Ree,” Sage whispers back, feeling Rhys move so he can place a tender kiss on his forehead.

  “We’ve got to go,” Kai says, his gun holstered and ready, but he says it softly, as if he knows that this moment between Sage and Rhys is more than Rhys being worried about their job.

  “I’ll clean up all of the food and everything so that you don’t have to, Kai,” Rhys says, still staring into Sage’s eyes.

  “Oh,” Kai replies, surprised. “Thank you, Rhys. I’d really appreciate that.”

  “Watch after him, please,” Rhys replies, and a fond feeling spreads throughout Sage’s chest even as he rolls his eyes.

  “You forget which one of us survived a war, Rhys,” Sage says quietly, teasing, but Rhys looks at him with serious eyes, so Sage nods reassuringly and straightens up. “We’ll be fine.”