Sharpened Claws: A Gay Werewolf Romance

by Peyton Bogue

  Mikalina is still keeping their plans away from everyone else in the precinct, and none of the other detectives question it. She’s instructed them to go about business as usual, and he and Kai are only called away from the precinct a few times that remaining week to help consult on other cases. Mikalina asks them to bypass any important information over to the leading detectives she assigns to each homicide, and Sage and Kai oblige, only helping on any of the cases when explicitly asked.

  Hazel occasionally gets called to a scene to help process the evidence or collect a body, but she otherwise remains available for every briefing in Mikalina’s office. Mikalina had received an email on Sunday that the D.A. had gotten them invitations to the ball, and that seems to set in motion any plans they’d been debating over.

  Any issue the four of them can think of is quickly resolved, and by Monday evening, Sage is feeling confident in their ability to execute this undercover plan efficiently.

  Hazel still hasn’t brought up the kiss to him, even though she’s had plenty of opportunities to ask him about it. Every time he thinks she’s going to say something, she quickly changes the subject or excuses herself. Part of Sage wonders if she’s embarrassed by what she’d done. He clearly didn’t react how she had hoped, and while the kiss on his cheek was mostly an innocent and sweet gesture, it had still made him uncomfortable. He doesn’t want to bring it up to her, though, especially when they’re about to attend a ball together as dates. Any unnecessary tension between them could disrupt their carefully constructed plans. He doesn’t need anything to go awry on Wednesday.

  When Sage isn’t busy planning at work, he, Kai, and Rhys meet at he and Rhys’s brownstone to toss around ideas on how to get Steele alone at the masquerade. While he feels confident in his and Kai’s undercover work, Sage feels anxious about cornering Steele. He’s not sure when, or if, he’ll be able to get the werewolf alone, and Kai can only aid him so much in trying to provide a distraction for both Mikalina and Hazel when he inevitably slips away from them.

  Rhys still isn’t completely complacent to follow along with Sage or Kai’s ideas, and he shoots down many of them before they all finally agree that Sage needs to take any opportunity he can to get Steele alone as soon as possible. Rhys doesn’t want Sage to be alone with the omega for long, but he’s alright, if not completely content, to listen on the outside and intervene if he needs to.

  The easiest way for both plans to coincide is to smooth things over with Steele before the check needs to be handed over to the art charity's foundation, where Hazel is supposed to collect it for fear of financing problems. Sage needs to be able to help Hazel if she encounters trouble while trying to halt the transaction, and he can’t be pulled away and busy with Steele while the check is exchanged.

  They plan to sneak Rhys in on the second floor of the old Brooklyn art museum Aleksander Kharkovy is holding his benefit at. Mikalina had shown them a map of the layout of the building so they could become familiar with the entrances and exits of the gallery, along with where the security would most likely be the most prevalent, and Sage had sneaked a picture of it quickly before she’d noticed.

  There is a fire escape on the second floor that faces the street, and Rhys is supposed to climb up to it and wait before Sage lets him in. Sage isn’t sure what they’ll do if Rhys is caught, but he doesn’t want to acknowledge that potential problem until he needs to.

  They haven’t discussed where Sage and Steele will need to talk for Rhys to be able to hear them clearly, but Kai tells them that the second level is probably going to provide the most privacy while also not making it too hard for Rhys to hear them. The ball is supposed to take place on the first level so that none of the artwork on the second level is disturbed, and the last thing any of them want is for Sage and Steele to be caught out in the open amongst the public where the noise level could interfere with Rhys’s ability to hear them.

  While everything seems to be coming along smoothly for both plans, however, Sage can’t help but notice that Rhys is acting a little. . .off. Rhys has hardly touched him since he left those bruises on Sage’s neck days ago. It’s the last thing Sage needs to be worried about amongst everything that’s about to happen, but Sage feels the absence of every touch that Rhys doesn’t give him and feels how Rhys pulls himself back if their kisses turn too deep, or if their hands start to wander.

  Rhys has been so on edge for the past few days that he’s not sleeping, and every time Sage asks him about it, Rhys just explains that he’s worried about Sage and that his wolf is restless and antsy. He reads through his mother’s journals almost constantly when he’s not at his garage or when they all come together to talk about the masquerade. Sage even sometimes has to gently plead with Rhys to take a break and come to bed with him. He’s told Rhys many times in the last four days that he doesn’t like that Rhys isn’t sleeping, even though Rhys isn’t showing any signs of exhaustion. He’s more defensive and tense than Sage has ever seen him before, and he holds Sage close to his chest every night even though he doesn’t sleep, gripping him tightly and a tad forcefully, as if he’s afraid that Sage will disappear if he lets go.

  Ever since Rhys had admitted to wanting to bite him, he hasn’t been forthcoming with any lingering touches or wanton stares, despite how close he holds Sage at night. Sage knows that it’s possible that Rhys is just worried and stressed about the impending ball, barely containing his doubts and worries about Sage’s safety, and that he may still feel some residual guilt about his desire to bite him. Sage is privy to the way Rhys touches him, though. He’s used to feeling like he can’t concentrate half the time they’re around each other because he wants Rhys so badly. This shift in Rhys’s behavior isn’t something he’s familiar with.

  He doesn’t want to ask Rhys about it because he doesn’t want to add to Rhys’s worry, especially with everything that is about to happen. It seems selfish to ask him about his sudden distance when Rhys is so on edge and wound up tight like a coiled spring.

  Sage knows that Rhys is aware of his confusion, however, because he isn’t able to hide his emotions from Rhys’s werewolf senses. It makes him a tad more frustrated, too, to know that Rhys can smell how confused he is, and still won’t explain or even make excuses for why he’s pulling himself back. Rhys doesn’t hide things from Sage, and knowing that he’s purposefully avoiding talking about his behavior just makes Sage feel even more disconcerted.

  It’s just all been so different for the past four days. When Tuesday rolls around, any final preparations in their covers are established. They all leave the precinct with the intent to go back into work the next day with any details and facts completely smoothed over and ready for the masquerade in the evening.

  Sage isn’t used to talking about so many meaningless details like the color of his suit or how he’s going to style his hair. Hazel is adamant that they need to coordinate their attire, and Sage tells her that he’s fine with any color she decides to pick. He doesn’t see the relevancy in the color of his tie or what kind of mask he should wear, but he lets her tell him what she’s decided, and he’s left feeling only slightly irritated when he leaves for the day. Kai gives him a sympathetic grin, having had a similar discussion with Mikalina, and Sage just heaves a resigned a shrug, trying not to seem perplexed.

  Tuesday evening finds both Sage and Rhys cuddled on the couch, although Sage is using cuddling very lightly. Rhys isn’t even fully touching him, just gently rubbing at the back of Sage’s neck. Sage still hasn’t said anything about the sudden distance between them, but when an accidental slip of Rhys’s thumb against his throat has his breath hitching slightly, he knows he probably should. The bruises on Sage's neck have finally started to fade, and even the darkest ones at the base of his throat are only a light purple, easily hidden beneath the collar of his shirt. Rhys’s thumb just lightly grazes over the one on his collarbone, and the thrill it sends down Sage's spine has heat rushing between his thighs.

  He’s sitting right next to Rhy
s on the couch, and all he needs to do is turn his head to press his lips to Rhys’s, and the warmth of Rhys’s mouth against his has his blood heating when he can’t hold himself back anymore.

  Rhys kisses Sage back for a few minutes, their lips moving together as easily as breathing. Rhys’s tongue finds his, and Sage suddenly feels hot. He turns against Rhys’s hand and climbs into his lap, straddling his hips, desperate to feel Rhys’s body against his.

  Rhys’s breathing has picked up slightly, and the hands he’s got on Sage’s hips tighten before he stiffens abruptly, pulling back with a small frown.

  Sage, from where he’s got his own hands buried in Rhys’s hair, makes a disapproving noise, trying to pull Rhys’s lips back to his.

  Rhys doesn’t move, just gently lightens his touch on Sage and sits up straight, his stoic expression pulling his beautiful face into a soft scowl.

  “Sage,” he says exasperatedly soft, as if he’s scolding a child. He shakes his head after a moment, gently rubbing his hand consolingly over Sage’s left hip.

  Sage can’t help but think that Rhys clearly doesn’t want to put a stop to where their heated kisses were beginning to go. His entire body is pliant against Sage’s, and the hand he’s got on Sage’s hip is only pulling Sage’s body closer into the feverish heat of his body. His pupils are dilated, and his breaths are heavy as he pants lightly.

  “Please,” Sage whispers against Rhys’s lips, trying to move closer, but Rhys leans away. He clenches his eyes shut at the sound of Sage’s pleas, inhaling sharply. Hearing Sage beg for him has always been Rhys’s undoing.

  “Baby,” Rhys says gently, his voice hesitant but strained. He sighs deeply, then shakes his head again as he gives Sage an apologetic look.

  “Okay,” Sage sighs, his own frown beginning to tug at his lips. “Why not?”

  “I almost bit you the last time that we. . .” Rhys trails off, shaking his head again as a flush stains his cheeks red. “I can’t, baby. Not until I figure out what’s wrong with me.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you,” Sage argues, narrowing his eyes at Rhys in displeasure.

  “I’m not in control of my shift, Sage,” Rhys replies, his deep tenor uncompromising. “I’m afraid that if we’re. . . intimate again, I’ll want to bite you again. I barely stopped myself the last time, baby. I don’t want to risk it. I can’t risk hurting you.”

  Sage sighs again, slumping down. The worst part is, he knows that Rhys is being incredibly sweet and genuine, but Sage can feel how Rhys was beginning to react to him. Sage’s own answering hardness twitches slightly in his sweatpants.

  “Believe me,” Rhys continues, his nostrils flared. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “I want you, too, sweetheart. The way you smell. . .” he trails off again, shaking his head dazedly. “All I want to do is taste every inch of your skin. I want to press you down into this couch and make love to you until you’re whimpering for me. It’s taking every ounce of what little control I have left to stop myself from taking you right here.”

  Sage’s face heats at Rhys’s words, and his entire body feels hot as he shifts his hips unconsciously, his breath hitching again. “Your words are—” he says, trying not to whimper, “are not helping.”

  “I know,” Rhys says, but he doesn’t sound teasing. He looks up at Sage earnestly, moving the hand that was rubbing over Sage's hip up to cup Sage's face. He grins a little. “Besides, this couch is also far too small for me too make love to you properly.”

  Sage does whimper at that, letting his head loll forward to rest against Rhys’s forehead. Rhys’s thumb rubs over his cheekbone, and he chuckles softly, although it comes out heavy and breathless. He’s clearly just as affected by his own words as Sage is.

  Rhys leans up and kisses Sage's forehead softly in reassurance. He leans his forehead back against Sage’s, saying quietly, “I don’t want to hurt you, Sage.”

  Sage exhales slowly, nodding. Now that he’s finally got an answer for Rhys’s sudden shift in behavior, he feels better, knowing that Rhys is just trying to protect him like he always does.

  Sage doesn’t want to think about what will happen if Rhys doesn’t find out why he’s so out of control of his shift. He hasn’t gone this long without Rhys's touch since they started dating. Even more importantly, though, he wants Rhys to feel like he’s in control of himself again, to know that his actions are his own. Sage can wait for him for as long as he needs.

  Sage just nods again, saying, “I know.” He leans back out of Rhys’s space before he can let himself get too caught up in the feel of Rhys’s hard body pressed underneath his, and huffs. “Just—give me a minute.”

  Rhys chuckles weakly but lets go of Sage so that Sage can sit on the opposite side of the couch. Sage takes deep breaths, trying not to think about Rhys's gentle touch, the purse of his lips, the feel of his muscular body as he holds Sage down, or how sexy Rhys looks with his hair mused from where Sage had been pulling at it. Rhys’s own breathing is heavy, and Sage knows that the smell of his arousal isn’t helping Rhys calm himself down. It takes a few minutes, but Sage eventually relaxes, having softened enough to be able to ignore the lingering arousal still prominent in his veins, and crawls back into Rhys’s arms, barely biting back another sigh.

  Rhys kisses his forehead apologetically, his hand returning to Sage’s neck but stays strictly away from the base of Sage's throat, and settles in to watch whatever is now playing on the T.V.

  Sage doesn’t really pay much attention after that, his mind racing with thoughts of the masquerade. He doesn’t want anything to go wrong, either with Steele or with obtaining the foundation’s check. He can only hope that everything goes how it’s supposed to.

  At some point, he falls asleep on Rhys’s chest, but when he wakes up from his alarm on Wednesday morning, he’s in their bed with Rhys’s arms wrapped securely around him.

  Rhys is anxious as he watches Sage get out of their bed, his eyes trailing after him as he steps into the bathroom to brush his teeth and start his shower, and track over him again when Sage exits their bathroom, a towel loosely wrapped around his waist as he walks into their closet. Rhys clearly hasn’t slept at all again, and Sage can’t help but frown. Rhys’s normal brooding scowl is on his face when Sage turns to him, dressed in a dark blue button down and jeans, and moves to take his gun and holster out of his nightstand.

  Rhys’s eyes are pinched and dark with anxiety when Sage glances at him as he rounds the bed to kiss him. Rhys’s teeth grind as he frowns.

  “Are you worried about tonight?” Sage asks him, stopping at Rhys’s hips.

  Rhys makes a noise in his throat. “Yes,” he replies, his frown deepening. “I don’t like this at all.”

  “I know,” Sage agrees, nodding. “I don’t either. We’ll get through it. Hopefully, we’ll be rid of Steele come this time tomorrow.”

  Rhys huffs at that, his eyes narrowed. Sage smiles at him.

  “I’ll see you tonight,” Sage says, leaning down to kiss him. “I love you.”

  Rhys tilts his head up to meet Sage’s lips. “I love you, too,” he says once Sage pulls back, his gray eyes cloudy.

  Sage leaves for the precinct after that, reluctant to leave Rhys’s side but also knows that he can’t stay to try to ease some of Rhys’s growing tension. The full moon is tomorrow, and Rhys may not be showing any signs of it affecting him yet, but Rhys is always just a tad fidgety leading up to a full moon, and adding his anxiety over the ball tonight into his normal edginess around the pull of the moon isn’t going to be a good mix. Rhys won’t relax until the moon has passed and the omega is gone, but that doesn’t mean that Sage feels any better about leaving him right now.

  Work that day is slow. The hours pass by infinitesimally as he, Kai, Mikalina, and Hazel discuss the more specific details about when to arrive at the ball and where to meet inside once everyone has arrived. Sage and Hazel are supposed to arrive a few minutes after Kai and Mikalina, around eight o’clock. Sage is g
oing to pick Hazel up at her condo on Flushing Avenue at seven thirty, which gives them plenty of time to make the trek back into the thick of Brooklyn where the art museum is.

  They’re all going to meet at the back of the building towards the Roman exhibit, as that exhibit is away from all security checkpoints and cameras. They’re not supposed to take off their masks, and their service weapons need to be concealed from sight. Sage isn’t sure how Mikalina plans to conceal her weapon while wearing a cocktail dress, but Hazel has chosen not to bring her gun with her this time, so he doesn’t have to worry about helping her to conceal hers.

  Sage and Kai drive over to Kai’s tailor to pick up their suits around lunch time, and Kai makes a valiant effort of trying to engage Sage in light conversation as they drive. Sage hadn’t needed to buy a new suit for the ball, but he hasn’t worn this suit in years. The suit jacket was too tight around his biceps, and his dress pants had hugged his thighs uncomfortably. He’d thought about just wearing the same suit he’d worn to Laila’s engagement party, but then he’d remembered that Rhys had torn it off of him, and he’d scrapped that idea quickly, resigning himself to getting his other suit altered.

  They pick up their suits quickly, driving back towards the precinct and stopping at a fast food restaurant on the way. Kai, who can either tell that Sage is nervous or understands him well enough to know that he’s not going to be all that talkative right now, just buys Sage's lunch and makes a joke that Sage is going to be the best dressed out of both the men and the women that night, and Sage laughs, dispelling some of his pent up anxiety.

  When they return to the precinct, Hazel reminds them not to forget to bring their badges to the ball, and Kai mockingly salutes her and tells her not to worry. Both Sage and Kai have talked to Hazel about how to stay undercover and what to do if that cover gets blown. Sage reminds her gently that it’ll be easier if she lets him take the lead, and she happily nods back at him, enthusiastically assuring him that she knows what to do.