Papa Bear for Darius

by Lorelei M. Hart

  One fellow was knocked askew and landed in another’s arms… What a way to meet.

  Chapter Two

  Darius

  “Basil, quit being stubborn.” I loosened my grip on my invitation. The invitation. The one I had been waiting for since that night years ago. No way was I not going—but that didn’t mean I was ready to wander in there on my own, either. Especially not when the invitation stated specifically it was for me and a friend—not a date, a friend.

  When I met Karma that night in the parking lot, she scented human, but not. At the time, I didn’t think much of it, my entire evening having gone so horribly wrong I’d been in a pity party for one until I met my future bestie and roommate. And then Monday came and ,with it, a letter from my uncle Paul, and the pieces fell into place. Some part, and I wasn’t sure what size part, of Karma was other and, if I were to wager, that other held the ability to see. And it was with that lens her word choices felt beyond intentional. So if she said friend, Basil, being the sole owner of the title, was coming with me.

  “This was hand delivered. Hand. Delivered.” I waved the glitter-filled card in his face. I didn’t know if I was coming off as desperate or crazy, and, truly, I didn’t care. The compulsion for me to bring him with me superseded all else. “Do you know how long I have waited for this?”

  He, of course, did. If it weren’t for him, I’d have been in the Animals parking lot all night, waiting for my so-called friends’ sorry asses. The study group didn’t have the decency to apologize or pretend to care what happened to me that night when I saw them in class the next time.

  I watched as his eyes showed signs of him beginning to cave.

  “Since you first heard about it?”

  “No.” I plopped down beside him on the couch, still clutching the invitation I’d somehow been granted for their Halloween party. “The first time I heard about the club was from Prof. Jones, and it was in a conversation I wished I’d never walked into.” It had never been easy being so young on campus, but morphing from a boy to a man then had led to more than a few awkward moments.

  “That’s… I have no words.” He shivered, and I watched him, unsure what to say. He must’ve noticed, adding on, “So, how long?”

  “Remember Lionel?” He nodded as I brought up my first big crush. “He was sitting at the table next to mine at the school coffee shop the day before my eighteenth birthday and told his friend he was going to Animals that weekend.”

  Basil’s head dropped. The day changed my life—or more accurately, his side hustle had.

  “I tried to get in by tagging along with my study group, but the bouncer said I wasn’t old enough, and the woman who ordered my ride, Karma, pulled me aside and said she’d send me an invite when it was time.” Basil knew all this, but it was all I had left. Playing on his emotions could no way be construed as the nicest way to get what I wanted. I kind of stank.

  I’d never told him about Karma. It somehow felt too personal and, given his quizzical expression, offering him more details wouldn’t have been the worst of ideas. And then I remembered the four bazillion human events he’d dragged me to, since he didn’t like to be in predominantly shifter groups. He said it was because his latency made the others feel uncomfortable, but I knew better. He was uncomfortable. He never saw the amazing shifter he was, allowing his lack of fur to shape his self-worth.

  I was one to talk. I let my pack’s disapproval of all I was do the same to me. Probably why we were such good friends.

  “Fine. I’ll go, but only because I owe you, and I am not wearing a costume.”

  Oh, he was so wearing a costume.

  ***

  “You could have been so much cuter as ‘Little Red’ if you had let me dress you.” I grabbed his arm and tugged him the half step we’d managed to move in the past half hour—and I still couldn’t see the club door. Every shifter on the planet must’ve gotten an invitation to this party. It was going to be amazing.

  The scents around me ranged from nervous to excited to horny. I couldn’t wait.

  “I don’t want to hear it.”

  I’d found him so many costumes, ranging from cute to sexy, and what did he go with? He went with a hoodie—a stupid red hoodie.

  “I’d catch my death of cold.” His exaggerated tone and hand gestures had a shifter a few feet in front of us attempting, very poorly, to control his laughter.

  “I wasn’t even thinking the jock one,” I lied. I totally was. Basil needed to get laid or blown or something, and his outfit was perfection.

  “Your nose is growing.”

  I reached for my nose and caught Basil’s eyeroll and wanted to join him. Leave it to me to take him so literally. Not the first time I’d misread a social cue or two, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

  “You—in the hood and ears,” barked a big guy I could only assume was a bouncer given his all-black ensemble, bulging muscles, and a hat emblazoned with Animals.

  “Me?” I squeaked, and I grabbed my bunny ears from my head. Why had I worn such a submissive outfit to a party filled with shifters? Because you want to submit. There was that. I pointed to myself as I stared at the bouncer’s hat.

  “Yeah, you, EB. You got an invite, right?”

  Perking up, I reached into my pocket and yanked out the now rumpled mess of an invitation, trying to figure out why he’d called me EB but too afraid to ask for fear my invitation would somehow be invalidated.

  “Yes…sir.” I held it out as the man walked away. Didn’t he want to see it? I’d want to see it.

  “Coming or not? We are almost at capacity,” he yelled, and I scurried to catch up to him as the EB comment fell into place. Easter Bunny. I had been going for sexy submissive, but there were worse names than EB.

  We headed straight for the front of the line. A man wearing the same outfit as the bouncer—with the exception of a small Candy Security logo on the left side of his chest—held the door for us. “You just made it. Lucky Karma intervened.”

  I’d expected greatness. I’d be lying if I said anything else, but the place far exceeded my wildest imagination. Everything from the band to the lights to the non-security staff shouted Halloween. There was even orange-and-black beer somehow layered in the mugs in stripes—which ewwwww—yet cool. And everyone, at least everyone but my roomie, bought into the theme, decked out in their Halloween best. So worth the wait.

  “Darius.” Karma stepped in close, and it was all I could do not to wrap my arms around her, to thank her for remembering me and sending the key to the most exciting night of my life so far. “I’m so glad you and your friend accepted my invitation. I have some things I want to show you.” She took my arm then gave Basil a wink. “We’ll be back. You just have fun.”

  She led me a short distance to the end of a bar; they had at least six I’d already seen. The place was mammoth. Karma pointed to an empty seat next to a man dressed in a toga. “Sit here, Darius. I need to take care of something.” She scratched the tip of her nose then looked back and forth at something I couldn’t determine. “There may be some issue I need to handle first.” And she was gone.

  I took the seat and grabbed the napkin in front of me, more for something to do than anything else. Questions—so many questions bounced around in my head. Why did she want to see me? What did she mean about having fun? What issue? The last one wasn’t my business, but once my brain got on a roll, it just kept going.

  “Whatcha drinking?” the bartender asked. It wasn’t a challenging question, not by anyone’s standards, yet, for a few seconds, the answer evaded me.

  “Ummm, cola?” I finally spit out, knowing I didn’t want to drink alcohol and ordering water was not the way to keep my seat unless I wanted to fill a landfill with a plastic bottle. Alcohol sounded like a good way to make a potentially great night go instantly south. With holding it together in social situations rough for me on a good day, adding alcohol to the mix was self-sabotage technique number one. The bartender nodded and moved away.r />
  “I got the same response over my milk.” I turned to the guy in the toga. Point proven. How long had I been sitting by him and not once acknowledged his existence.

  “Probably thinks I won’t tip well, but I will. I just think maybe I shouldn’t drink until I get my bearings on this place. I can’t believe I’m here. I’ve been wanting to come for so long.” I continued to play with my napkin.

  “I never heard of this place until today.” He took a long sip of his milk.

  I could definitely see how a bartender would find that odd. Who drank milk? Children and pregnant—ohhhh—how had I missed a pregnancy? It wasn’t like his toga hid anything. It did the opposite. I needed to pay more attention.

  “They sure go all-out on the festivities, don’t they?” He pointed to the pumpkin-light-mirror ball over the dance area, and his scent filled my nose. It was different-ish. Maybe it was the pregnancy. I’d scented him coming in only not.

  “Huh.” I leaned in closer and then not so subtly sniffed him. I knew better. That was how I’d ended up with my first broken bone in middle school—Johnny scented different, and I leaned in close enough to get his fist in my face. If they had told us puberty scented differently, I wouldn’t have gotten into so much trouble, but then again, I was eight and didn’t belong there in the first place, not anyway but academically anyway. “Your scent…I usually remember a scent accurately, but I could’ve sworn you were more allspice than nutmeg. Huh.”

  I’d only noticed and remembered because of the allspice. It had always been a favorite of mine, even if most of my clan denied there was a discernible difference between allspice and nutmeg. They were wrong. So wrong.

  His face fell, or was it excitement? I couldn’t tell, but my words impacted him deeply.

  “Where did you scent me?” He more stammered than spoke. “The first time.” He clarified.

  “In line. You probably didn’t see me. They pulled me out of line, and I walked past you. I don’t remember the toga, but I was more focused on getting in.” I shrugged as he slid off his chair.

  “Nice to meet you,. I gotta go.” He waddled toward I didn’t know where. If this was how my night was going to go, maybe I’d set my expectations a bit too high.

  Chapter Three

  Bruin

  After a minute or two, the tumbling omega was caught by Chris, an alpha and a bartender who was attending the event as a guest at the insistence of the bosses. Where most businesses I did work for had a tough time attracting quality staff, and shifters were notorious for having lax work habits anyway, the people at Animals seemed dedicated to the point they had to be forced to take time off.

  I could understand. They were treated more as family than workers, paid well, and some lived on-site in the super-amazing cliff dwelling. I’d seen one job open up, in maintenance, while I was here. The janitor in question was called home to help care for his sick alpha dad, but he’d be back as soon as his father either passed or recovered. I’d heard him assuring Warren of that and asking his job be held. Only a temp had been hired.

  Chris and the omega melted into the crowd, and I noted with amusement our wolf bartender had found himself a guy in a red hoodie—fairy tale in progress? At least maybe they’d have a fun night. He needed one.

  But then, so did I. People still flowed in, though I couldn’t imagine where they’d go. Soon, the dance floor would be a standing room only floor. But Animals had an amazing ability to hold more guests than it seemed as if it could. Part of the magic of the place.

  How long was I supposed to stand here and wait for whoever or whatever Karma wanted me to see? Maybe I could zip over to the bar, get a drink, and return. But as I considered my options, someone stepped on my food, hard.

  “Hey!” I yanked my foot back with a growl. “What the hell, buddy?” It didn’t hurt much, but it was damn startling.

  The tiger dressed as a lion—nothing weird there—growled at me and stomped off, managing to hit my other foot on the way, but I didn’t follow to knock his lights out. Not because I didn’t want to and not because that would be a poor way to repay hospitality. My bear didn’t have manners of that level. No…my bear was focused on Karma heading my way with an omega bunny on her arm. No…not a bunny. A bear dressed as a bunny.

  What was with all the animals being other animals around here? Didn’t he like his bear side? Still, something about the little bear with the big glasses tore right into my gut. My bear was dancing and growling and having a bear fiesta in there, which is less comfortable than you might think. Mate. Mate. Mate.

  Oh, hell no. Sure, he was cute, and as he nodded vigorously to something Karma said to him, his ears slid down to join his glasses on the tip of his nose. He readjusted them with his free hand. My mouth went dry, my hands were sweating, and everything suave about me went out the window as they arrived in front of me and said, “Here he is. Darius, this is Bruin. Bruin, Darius.” She freed her arm and gave him a little push toward me. “You two be good now…don’t do anything my mate and I wouldn’t do. Not without video.” Her laughter trailed behind her as she disappeared into the crowd, the last sight of her a wink of the pumpkin disco ball light on the sparkles in her hair.

  And there we stood looking at each other, the wild music of the band led by the redheaded devil filling all the air around us. Finally, I nodded. “Nice to meet you, Darius. Want to get a drink?”

  “Yes!” His enthusiasm was startling. “I mean, sure that would be nice.”

  “This way.” I cupped his elbow and guided him out a side door onto the cliff where a flat open space allowed a view of the desert floor below.

  He dug in his heels and looked panicked for a moment. “I thought we were going to the bar?” The moonlight reflected off his glasses, enhancing a smudge in one corner. Too adorable for words.

  So I kissed him. Released his elbow, wrapped an arm around him, and bent to press my lips against his without waiting for permission or possible refusal. I blame my bear. But Darius didn’t’ refuse or try to get away. He tipped his head back and parted his lips to admit my questing tongue. Our teeth clicked together, but neither of us complained. He tasted like Dr. Pepper, which he had probably been drinking on the way here, but under that lay a different sweetness I couldn’t get enough of. Perfection. I lapped at every inch of his mouth, exploring and returning to catch his tongue with mine and entwine them.

  I wasn’t sure if the groan was mine or his, but it didn’t matter. We were already fumbling at our clothes while I backed him toward the cliff face, kissing the whole time. If I didn’t get his costume off in two seconds, I was going to shred it off and be damned the consequences. Be damned everything.

  I left his lips behind to follow my fingers as they revealed his skin by inches, kissing the hollow of his throat, nibbling his collarbone, swirling my tongue around a flat, masculine nipple. Everything about him aroused me, including the little pants and whines he emitted when I bit down on that nipple.

  I was about ready to drop to my knees and suck him dry when laughter came from behind me and I froze. Sure, shifters were willing to have sex in public. I might—admitting to nothing—have done so myself, once upon a time. But not with my mate.

  Shut up, no he’s not.

  Mate!

  I pulled Darius tight against me as the group of whispering, giggling swan shifters passed us then strolled to the edge of the cliff to look out over the desert. They peeked over their shoulders and laughed some more, showing no signs of leaving anytime soon.

  Finally, I took a step back and adjusted both of our clothing. “Let’s get that drink.”

  His head bobbed, but a glance downward showed his cock was as hard and ready as mine, albeit in a silly rabbit suit. “Okay. I want a carrot juice and vodka.”

  I chuckled but then realized he was serious. “Oh, sure. We’ll see if the bar has any carrot juice.” There were some regular rabbit shifters here. They probably ordered it. We started toward the door, but I stopped him just outside and gr
ound my lips on his. “Let’s go to the party. But afterward, I’d like to invite you to my place for… Well, I don’t have any carrot juice, but maybe coffee?”

  His tongue came out and moistened his swollen lips. I groaned deep inside. Probably had been me before. “Papa, let’s not dance too long.”

  Chapter Four

  Darius

  My cola arrived, and I gave the bartender a five dollar bill, telling him to keep the change, which, for all I knew, was two cents. Places this popular could charge whatever they wanted, and people would pay—at least I would. He smiled and thanked me, so I took it as a sign I didn’t blow it and rotated around, cup in hand, to people watch.

  A good chunk of me wanted to follow the pregnant omega and figure out what had set him off about our conversation—besides me getting all awkward and such. I also wanted to check on Basil. He didn’t want to be here, and, given the intensity of the party, my guilt at dragging him along was starting to settle in. I’d promised Karma I’d stay, though, so I fought the impulse to do otherwise and sipped on my cola, which had turned out to be Dr. Pepper, as the band started yet another of their tribute songs. They sounded at least as good as the original band, possibly better.

  And then there was a shift in the air. It was so subtle and so many of the shifters so well on their way to being dressed in liquor it was most likely missed by three quarters or more of the room. It was palpable, though—like the change in the taste of the air just before a clan challenge or as an Alpha steps down.