by Susan Laine
Crow chuckled softly. “Actually, I have two. One immortal of my own kin and one human who declined the bite.”
Bursting into helpless hysterical laughter, Jim was able to say, “And you want one more in your social gathering? Oh, sorry, I meant seraglio.”
Still smiling, Crow nodded. “I have always preferred more than one partner. Doesn’t mean I don’t love them all. The ones I have now, those I have yet to have, and those I have already lost. I believe in balance in all things, including relationships. One person may not be able to give me everything I want, and I realize I may not be enough for someone else. My immortal partner has another lover beside me.”
“Kind of like swingers, huh?” Jim didn’t want to sound judgmental but he knew in his heart he didn’t want open relationships like that. Perhaps it was silly, idealistic, and rosily romantic, but he wished to be the one and only for a man, the way that man would be for him.
Shrugging mildly, Crow said, “I suppose you can look at it like that, sure.” Jim was beginning to see that not much rattled the basic optimism of this beautiful man. “But that’s not what you want, is it, Jim?”
Lowering his gaze to the glass coffee table, he shook his head, feeling deflated. “No, it’s not. I don’t want that.”
“I understand. Believe me I do.” Crow’s sympathetic tone made Jim feel a bit better. “You should know, however, that while I do not wish to use my powers to ensnare a new mate, there are other progenitors out there who won’t be so guileless.”
Jim started. “Say what?”
Crow let out a sigh. “Progenitors’ mates lie dormant, so to speak, until they meet their first progenitor. That’s when they become like a beacon in the night. We all see you now. I’m here. Others will come to pursue you—until you are claimed.”
Getting hit over the head by a brick would have wigged Jim out less than what he was hearing. He knew he was over the hill in many ways, gay ways especially. He was pushing fifty, and he had not expected to attract any gorgeous alpha types anymore. Now, it seemed, a whole pack of them was going to be pursuing him. To make him theirs.
And all he could think of was Dak.
But that reminded him…. “Dak asked me something back at the cabin, and I couldn’t lie to him.”
Crow and Daniel glanced at each other knowingly. “All progenitors have powers, Jim. Dak can spot lies, among other things, as a shaman of his tribe way back when.”
“What can you do?”
“Sorry. Privileged information. I can only disclose that to my mate.”
Jim snorted. “Really?”
Crow chuckled. “Close enough.” Then he grew serious. “Dak is the one calling to your heart, isn’t he?”
Jim looked away, blushing in embarrassment. “What does it matter? He’s made his lack of interest pretty fucking clear.” His head was throbbing with a headache now, probably stress, and he rubbed his temples, tendrils of pain subsiding briefly. “Has he lived up there, all by his lonesome, for long?”
“Ages. Long before the Veil lifted.” Daniel didn’t sound happy about it. “Bad for the pack and our lineage.”
Jim raised his gaze at that, eyes wide. “He’s your creator.”
Daniel smiled wistfully. “Yes, he is my sire.”
Crow nudged Daniel with his elbow. “Bet you’re glad it isn’t me, eh, King?”
Growling, Daniel retorted, “Go huff and puff somewhere else, Crow.”
Crow just laughed at that, as though no amount of snarkiness could hurt his feelings. Jim upgraded his image of the man and realized Dak had been right. Jim could do a lot worse than have this man as his mate. “Does that make you the little piggy that couldn’t?”
“Wrong fairy tale.” But Daniel smirked too, and the tension evaporated.
Jim cut in. “Ahem. Just out of curiosity. Do I have to pick one of the progenitors?”
“One of them will manage to wow you enough, I’d imagine,” Crow said nonchalantly. “We can be pretty persuasive. And not all of my kin have more than one mate. A few have none.”
“Like Dak.” Jim felt as morose as he undoubtedly sounded. “Has he had mates?” He couldn’t deny the burst of jealousy at the thought of others, even though he rationally understood that in millennia there were bound to be one or two at least.
Daniel opened his mouth to speak, but Crow waved him silent. “Listen, Jim. Why don’t you ask him yourself? If he’s the one you want, then take him. Hunt him down and make him your prey.”
Jim frowned. “It’s that simple, is it?”
Crow laughed loudly, holding his gut. “Oh, Jim. Why do you think he’s running from you so fast? C’mon. This mating business is a two-way street. You desire him. He desires you. He may wish to deny it, but he can’t help but feel it. The bond between mates, even with progenitors, is powerful. Use it.”
Jim actually had to stop and think about that. There had been moments when he’d felt as if Dak had been attracted to him. But his curt demeanor had shoved those instincts aside. Maybe he could still—
No. Jim didn’t even know Dak. All he knew about the man was that he was an ancient werewolf who lived in the mountains in a cabin, alone by choice, seeking solitude on purpose. For Jim to invade that privacy, he’d better be sure he wanted Dak for good.
And since he didn’t know Dak, how could he say he wanted him as his mate?
Jim couldn’t be sure he didn’t want Dak just because the idea of dodging a whole host of more powerful wolves hell-bent on claiming him scared him shitless. Jim had no idea what to expect from these immortal beasts who had witnessed the rise and fall of human civilizations too many times to count. Apart from Crow, who seemed like an okay guy, these progenitors were a complete unknown to Jim.
What if I had met Crow before Dak? Would I want him as much as Dak?
Why doesn’t Dak want me?
The only way Jim was going to get an answer to the question that plagued him the most was to confront Dak, despite the man’s reluctance. Jim swore he wouldn’t try to seduce Dak because that opened a whole new can of worms he wasn’t ready to tackle.
“I have to talk to him.” His voice quivered, though he had tried to sound determined.
“Want some company up the mountainside?” Crow asked companionably.
Jim offered him a smile, more in earnest than the ones before. “Thanks, but no. I have to do this by myself.” He got up to leave right away in case he lost his nerve.
“Good luck,” both Crow and Daniel chimed from the couch.
Jim had a feeling he was going to need all the luck in the world.
Chapter 8
JIM FULLY expected Dak to know he was here, on his marked territory, well before he stopped the borrowed truck and started uphill on foot toward the cabin. His mind was stuffed too tight with all manner of questions for his body to even notice the climb or the exertion.
When he reached the cabin, Jim made sure Dak knew with certainty he was here. “Dak, I’m back. Yeah, I said there wouldn’t be a third time, but I have questions.” He used his normal speaking voice, suspecting that Dak was hiding behind the bushes nearby, like before, the gigantic wolf of his earlier visits. “Like why am I feeling so good? Two nights at your cabin and all my injuries seem to heal. Miracle of miracles. Do I have you to thank for that?”
The noon sun was high, blazing down upon Jim’s exposed neck. The air was dry and warm. Woodsy odors surrounded him, and he had never felt so in touch with the nature around him, not in all his travels.
Then a rustling of dry leaves and pine needles sounded at Jim’s back. As he knew the man wouldn’t be far, Jim wasn’t startled, but he never did like someone standing right behind him.
“I mixed my blood with the hot drink I gave you. Both times. That healed you. Any other questions?” As usual, Dak was cool, more polite than hostile, but hardly welcoming.
“You know how some things, like a consciousness, is more than the sum of its parts?”
Dak sounded puzzled. “Y
es. Emergence.”
“Could you accept the possibility I can be more than what you think you see?” Jim held his breath as he waited for the answer, his back to the man.
“Yes. Most people are. Not all, but some. What’s your point?”
That was Jim’s cue to finally turn to face Dak. “What justifies you dismissing me so casually, without even trying to get to know me?”
Dak closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, they shone golden. Wolf eyes. “It’s not you. It’s me. That may sound to you like an awful cliché, but in my case it happens to be true.”
Jim shivered under the bright light of those golden eyes staring at him under Dak’s typical frown. “So… you’re going to live forever, but you never want anyone to share that time with you again?”
Dak’s features tightened. “Yes.” He blinked, and his eyes returned to hazel, back into human eyes. His expression softened slightly. “You came here in search of wolves—”
“Not to hurt you, I swear to God.”
Dak nodded slowly. “I believe you.”
Jim frowned because there was no warmth creeping in Dak’s tone as he said the words. “But… but that doesn’t make any difference to you.”
“If you had intended to hurt me or my kin, the officials would never have found your corpse to bury.”
Jim had zero doubt of the truth in that statement. “So, what you’re saying is, I should feel better because you’re rejecting me just like you’d reject anyone else?”
Dak sighed. “Jim. Do you even know, let alone understand, what it means to be a mate to a lycan? Of having to choose between one life and another? Either you will live as a mate, refuse the immortal bite, and grow old while I stay as I am. When you die, I will hurt when my heart breaks at the loss of you. Or… you will accept the bite, leave your old life behind to live here in the woods with me, and watch from afar as your family and friends grow old and die while you remain young. Tell me, Jim. Which of these options would please you more? Because if you were my mate, you would have to choose one or the other. There is nothing in between.”
Stunned, Jim stared at Dak, who remained adamant in his conviction. And worst of all, now he began to make sense to Jim too.
Dak stepped closer, his tone lower and more empathic than ever. “The romantic idea of eternal love…. It’s just a dream. I don’t want to bury any more lovers. And I don’t want to see the spark die in their eyes when they abandon the life they knew, their dreams—”
“No, I refuse to believe it’s that black-and-white!” Jim tried to rein in his frustration but with poor results. “Why should your mate have to let go of their dreams—”
“A wolf’s mate must stay in that wolf’s territory. As one of the progenitors, my territory comprises all of Wyoming and a bit beyond. But more than that, once I claim you, you would have to stay in close proximity to me at all times. Other progenitors would find you alluring. In the past, there were challenges to the death and abductions. Though bonded to me, you could still be mated to them as well once the mating mark wanes. And that would lead to two progenitors fighting to the death, the loss of one of our kind unimaginable. Two lineages of packs would start a war—”
“How come that doesn’t happen all the time if there are mates all over the place?”
“Because we progenitors are fiercely territorial. We stay on our own land. And that is why you could never leave.”
Jim saw a discrepancy. “What about Crow?”
Dak waved a dismissive hand about. “Crow is a public figure. He represents lycans in the public eye. He’s rich, powerful, and a figure few can resist. He has been granted permission by the rest of us to travel where he will on lycan business—under the condition of not trying to seduce our mates.”
Jim frowned. “Crow’s hot. But I don’t want him.”
“You would if he really tried.” Dak passed Jim on his way to the cabin. Jim followed in silence since he hadn’t been told to vacate the premises.
Once they got inside, Jim asked, “Why hasn’t he done that yet, then?”
Dak sauntered to the fireplace, looking into the flames. “I saved his life once, long ago in the Dark Ages. Maybe he’s repaying the favor.” Then he scoffed. “Though I don’t see why he should feel the need to do so.”
Jim closed the door, perhaps a bit more sharply than he’d intended, and he walked over to Dak. “Right. ’Cause you don’t want me under any circumstances.”
Dak’s shoulders tensed. “I no longer live for other people and their wishes of me.”
“I guess being friends is out, then, too.” Jim knew he sounded snarky, but the words and the tone slipped out on their own. He willed himself to calm down. “When was the last time you even met a possible mate? You’ve been out here for a long time, I hear. Before the Veil lifted.”
Dak threaded his fingers through his long mane, his frustrated snort loud in the silence. “I came to live here long before the world wars. I have very few needs that can’t be taken care of in the wilderness.” A dry chuckle escaped him, the first Jim had ever heard from him. “And no, I don’t mean those kinds of needs.”
The mere allusion to Dak’s sexuality caused Jim’s breath to catch. His heart beat faster, and he trembled a bit, heat coursing through his veins toward his hardening cock. He was sweating, and his muscles twitched with the impulse to wrap himself around Dak and to touch him with his hands, his lips, his tongue.
Then Dak sniffed the air, straightened his back, and whipped his head in Jim’s direction, fast as lightning. His nostrils flared as he seemed able to take in Jim’s growing arousal. His hazel eyes morphed into golden wolf eyes as Jim watched with wide eyes, unable to look away.
A low purr escaped Dak’s throat, a deep rumbling sound that made Jim gasp, his dick hard as a diamond, demanding swift release. He doubted he’d ever been so turned on, even when he’d been a teenager with a near permanent boner.
Dak closed the gap between them, hunger blazing in his eyes. Jim felt naked in front of that intense gaze, and he wanted to rip his clothes off and melt into Dak’s embrace.
Dak raised his shaking hand, as if craving the touch more than anything. Swallowing hard and licking his lips, Dak edged closer. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl. Jim saw the man’s eyes darken to amber in lust, and whimpering, he leaned into the impending touch.
“Get out.”
Jim snapped out of his delightful reverie with a start.
Dak grimaced, baring his teeth, and snarled viciously. “Get the hell out of here! I don’t want you here!”
Jim was speechless, frozen in place, moved too fast from sexual tension to threat of bodily harm.
Apparently unwilling to wait, Dak growled furiously, grabbed Jim’s neck, and dragged him to the door. He yanked the door open and threw Jim out. He must have used his wolf strength because Jim landed nearly twenty feet away, hitting the rocky ground hard enough to bruise.
Grunting in pain, Jim turned to Dak, far more afraid than outraged.
“If I ever see or even smell you on my property again,” Dak yelled from the doorway, his hands balled up in fists. “I will fucking kill you.” Then he slammed the door.
Shocked by the sudden act of violence, Jim scrambled to sit up. He used the nearest tree trunk to inch himself to his shaky feet, trying hard to catch his breath, feeling the wind knocked out of his lungs. He felt battered to the bone and knew he’d be bruised all over by the end of the day.
Limping, Jim started his trek back to the truck. He felt tears prickling hot in his eyes, but he blinked them away. He was not going to cry. The truth was he didn’t know the first thing about Dak. What had just happened proved it. Jim hadn’t seen the possibility of actual use of force. Dak had been so extremely angry. It seemed he took his solitary life way more seriously than anyone had thought.
Stumbling over rocks and tree roots, Jim put distance between him and the man he now knew would never be his—friend, mate, whatever.
“Holy shi
t, he hurt you?”
Jim started when Crow spoke out sharply as he came up the path. First concern, then fury colored his expressive face.
Jim shook his head. “My fault. I tried to kiss him. Guess he’d rather be alone. I know I’m not a catch—”
“No.” Crow reached him and rested his hands on Jim’s hips, steadying him. “You’re beautiful, Jim: full of light, life, and energy. Dak doesn’t know what he’s missing. The dumbass.” He put his arm around Jim’s shoulders, sheltering him from further hurt. Jim was touched by the gesture. “Come. I’ll take you back to the ranch.”
Nodding, Jim allowed himself to be led away. He realized he no longer gave a damn about the story he had come here to write. He didn’t want Dak’s hate. He didn’t want any part of this world where he was expected to give up his loved ones, his career—such as it was—his dreams.
As far as epiphanies went, the one that overcame Jim then was crystal clear.
I want to go home.
Chapter 9
“DAMMIT.”
This was hardly the first time Jim had cursed at the white computer screen before him, a blank page waiting to be filled with words—and he had none to give. Even if there was a story in his encounter with werewolves, he didn’t wish to relive those days.
He’d been home for two weeks, but he still dreamed about Dak. Unfortunately, few of them were hot and delicious and sexy. Most were composed of furious growls, chases through the woods for his life, and violence of all sorts, even death. Jim often woke up with a start, cold sweat clinging to his skin, his frightened heart trying to beat its way out of his chest.
And in addition to his body and instincts succumbing to the fear, now his writer’s mind was failing him too. Portland, Oregon, was showing its rainy face today, as it had for the past four days, and Jim found himself staring numbly at the watery streaks on his apartment window.
Daniel had seemed almost stricken to see Jim leave, and Jim had felt sorry for him. Having a leader for his people who was a total recluse must be hard. Jim wondered if Dak had always been that way. Considering the way Daniel looked up to him, Jim doubted this had been the case.