Fire Of Love

by Preston Walker

  If Moody responded, if he said something aloud, Isaac had no idea.

  His hips started to thrust, his body moving in a vaguely circular back-and-forth motion that had the subtlest of curves. Moody moved with him, rising as he did, falling with him. Spearing himself, backing away, then coming forward again.

  There was no real sense of urgency, lost as they both were in the dreamlike act of sex. With their minds touching, there was no need for communication or interruptions. They sensed intent, felt adjustments, and adapted automatically. Back and forth, for an eternity, heat and pleasure blocking out the rest of the world. Spasms rocking both of them, coming faster and faster, closer together, until they blurred together into a measured, intense rush without limit and end.

  Moody threw his head back, breaking the pattern. His hand slid up the length of his shaft, tightening all the way to his swollen, dribbling tip. His body stilled entirely, except for the motions which could not be controlled.

  Intimate interior muscles clamped down around Isaac, holding him in place. He couldn’t have withdrawn even if he wanted to. They were locked together, knotted together.

  Their thoughts clashed together again, and they both lost it.

  Two wolves, howling. Two men, crying out, orgasming together, the moment tense and tight and beautiful, composed of feelings for which there was no real adequate word.

  Even before he had finished exploding, before the jolts of pleasure faded from his body, Isaac leaned down and wrapped his mouth around Moody’s shoulder. His fangs slid out, piercing skin, making the omega bleed for him.

  He knew it wouldn’t be the last time that he hurt Moody with something he did, but this was the last time it would be intentional.

  Moody cried out again as he was marked, as Isaac claimed him, and his body rocked with another weak spasm of pleasure as his strength faded.

  Their minds touched again, even more intensely than before. United now not just in thought but also in spirit, there was no way they could ever be separated. They were mates, destined for each other from the very beginning.

  Isaac pulled back, discovered he had literally no strength left whatsoever, and flopped over onto his side. Breathless, he pulled in great, heaving lungfuls of air.

  A small, warm body nestled up against his side. An arm and a leg were tossed over him, though these limbs were limp from a pure, contented sort of exhaustion. Isaac responded in kind, flopping a leg over Moody, wanting to do more and finding himself incapable of it.

  For a very long time, they just lay there, tangled together. Then, a soft voice broke through the silence. “I guess we’re mates now.”

  Even though Isaac knew that Moody had been just as happy and lost in the moment as he was, he nevertheless felt his stomach clench with fear. “Is that okay?” he asked. He dreaded the answer. For a very long time, he had known nothing except sadness and dread and an endless apathy. It was going to take him a very long time to get over that, he knew.

  A mating mark could not be undone.

  Shifters were such fantastic healers, yet a bite made with the intent to claim always left a scar. It was the purpose behind it, the marked one’s body responding to what the marker wished. It might fade with time, but it would never go away.

  Someone else could mark on top of it, but that just wasn’t the same.

  If Isaac had just fucked up, he’d fucked up big time.

  “That’s what I’ve always wanted, you idiot,” Moody whispered, very kindly. He reached out, wrapping both hands around Isaac’s face. His fingers roamed, caressing along his jawline and cheekbones.

  Isaac sank into the touch with a shudder, all of his fears chased away.

  They kissed, very softly, and then Moody sat up. The process of actually sitting seemed to drain what little strength he had left, and he just perched there on the edge of the bed for a moment.

  Watching him, Isaac became aware once again of the gnawing ache in his empty stomach.

  “I want to actually take a shower,” Moody said. “Think you could order room service?”

  “I think I need to hop back in, too,” Isaac said, laughing a little. “I’m pretty sure I’ve still got soap in my hair. Mind if I join you?”

  Moody flashed a teasing smile, then shook his head. “We’d have to have sex again and I don’t think either one of us could survive.”

  Isaac smiled back. “You’re probably right. Go on. Hopefully the food will get here by the time you’re out. Any preferences?”

  “All of it.”

  Rising a little gingerly, Moody walked off in the direction of the bathroom.

  Isaac admired the way his ass cheeks moved together. Moody flashed a grin over his shoulder at him, sensing the attention, and then disappeared into the bathroom. Within only a second, the shower was running again.

  How could all of this have happened in such a short time?

  The only thing Isaac could see as a possible reason was that maybe the universe was trying to realign itself, speeding up a process that had been slowed down by his stupidity. Stranger things had happened.

  Whatever the reason, he was just happy to be able to look forward to the future again. The cloud of dread, the sense that things must inevitably come to an end, had been blown away. His sky was clear. Anything could come his way, and he wanted to be able to experience it all with Moody at his side.

  And, someday in the future, maybe with a pup in his arms.

  Smiling a little, a secretive little smile which he was hardly able to feel, Isaac reached over to the nightstand to check out the room service menu.

  13

  Someday” turned out to be much sooner than either of them could have predicted.

  Less than a month after the events of that fateful night in Daphne, Moody stood in front of the mirror in Isaac’s bathroom. He wore nothing from the waist up, rubbing his hands up and down his abdomen. The changes from normal were so slight that he didn’t think anyone else had noticed yet. And how could they, when clothes covered much in the way of imperfections and oddities?

  The only ones who could possibly notice his rounded stomach were himself, and Isaac. And he didn’t think Isaac had noticed, otherwise the alpha would have said something.

  He was all alone right now, physically and spiritually.

  The roundness was so insignificant, so barely there, that he could hold his breath and suck in his stomach and it would disappear. Yet, the moment he relaxed, it would be back again. It wouldn’t go away. He couldn’t convince himself he was only imagining it, not when there was no getting rid of it.

  And there was no denying the way he’d been feeling the past week. A little draggy and rundown. As unusual as it was, Isaac suggested the possibility he might be a little under the weather.

  Looking at himself like this, torso naked in front of the mirror above the bathroom sink, Moody could only assume he was tired because his body was funneling nutrients and resources to a little bundle of cells inside him. Wolf shifters had faster pregnancies than humans, though their children emerged with the same amount of development. That meant shifter fetuses took more of a toll on their parent’s body.

  And Moody was feeling it. He wasn’t dealing with any nausea as of yet or anything like that, although that was certainly in his future.

  I don’t think we’re ready for this.

  He had moved out of the garage to be with Isaac in the trailer park, and it wasn’t nearly as terrible of a place to live as it seemed from the outside. Maybe his perspective changed after what he had gone through, or maybe he’d just been misguided from the start. Arguments constantly broke out between couples and various individuals, often at odd hours of the night. Dogs barked at the oddest of times, disturbing what should have been peaceful mornings and nights. Everyone seemed to smoke or drink, and there were far too many children of all ages who ranged without any supervision whatsoever.

  And there were always community cookouts, which sprang up spontaneously whenever someone cooked outside
at their grill or fire pit. Others would arrive, bringing various food items or drinks, and their own chairs. No one needed inviting. They just had to show up.

  There were no real fights. Moody slowly learned, through gossip and eavesdropping, that many of the people living here were already in the system in one way or another. Fresh out of jail, or having narrowly avoided that fate. Most of them seemed to be honestly trying to turn their lives around. It wasn’t easy, which created quite a lot of tension, but so far no one had ever pulled out a knife or gun in the middle of an argument.

  And they all watched out for each other, babysat each other’s kids, hid their neighbor’s marijuana when the cops came calling. They dealt with favors in the way others might invest in stock, holding on and cashing in when it was most profitable.

  So, not exactly a terrible place. Just not the kind of place he would want to be in to raise a kid.

  Still stroking his stomach, very aware of Isaac asleep in the room they now shared, he had to think it might have been better if they had stayed at the garage together. Then again, that was effectively homelessness and not much better for raising a baby in the grand scheme of things. The pack acted as one enormous family, their connection burgeoned by their additional status as members of a motorcycle club, so the child would never be wanting for anything. And it would never be spared the comings and goings of strangers in the night, unfamiliar faces, and whatever perils might come their way simply by proximity.

  Those were the only options, as far as Moody could tell. He had no money, and Isaac’s job search had thus far been unsuccessful. Several promising opportunities had fallen through, as he was passed over by candidates fresh out of college. They couldn’t go up from here, not right now.

  We should have used protection. Every single time.

  He wasn’t afraid of having the baby, not really. On the contrary, it was actually exciting to think about, until he started considering the cost of appointments, baby supplies, and the impending hospital stay. They didn’t have that kind of money.

  Going to Destiny for help was always an option. The pack leader had been relieved and sympathetic when Moody and Isaac returned with their story of why they went missing, and he had sent them off to live together with his well-wishes. Cain didn’t mention he had seen the two of them leaving together, which was just as well. Not everything needed to be brought out in the open.

  However, talking to Destiny about a loan or something made Moody feel queasy and guilty on the inside. Back before all this started, he had neglected to bother Destiny with the problem of his position on the roster with Isaac. That was a small problem, easily fixed. He didn’t dare bring up this larger dilemma, not when Destiny still had so many difficulties of his own to try and solve. There were other members of Shadow Claws, and Lethal Freedom, who were much more deserving of his time.

  Moody tilted his head a little, listening to bed springs creaking in Isaac’s bedroom. Soft footsteps, coming in the direction of the hallway and then heading down a short ways to the bathroom door. Not bothering to knock, Isaac entered.

  Moody watched him in the mirror as the alpha wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, settling his chin on his shoulder. “What are you thinking so hard about?” Isaac asked. His jaw bobbed on Moody’s shoulder as he spoke, his head moving very slightly up and down.

  Moody looked at his mate in the mirror, meeting the reflection of his whiskey-pale eyes. “Nothing, really.”

  “Is it the baby?”

  Eyes widening, Moody turned his head to actually look at Isaac. The alpha smiled at him softly. “You know?”

  “I’m not blind. And your scent is changing.” Isaac hugged him tighter, and Moody sank back into his grasp, relieved not to have to stand under his own strength for the moment. “I can’t believe it. Our baby. Do you think it’s going to be a boy or a girl?”

  “I’m just hoping it’s rich.”

  Isaac laughed, then frowned as he seemed to realize Moody hadn’t been joking. “So, it’s the money you’re worried about?”

  “I don’t know how we’re going to do it,” Moody admitted. He hugged his arms around himself, shivering as a cold chill swept through his body. “This isn’t the best place for a baby, and we can’t even afford to have it anyway.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Isaac said. He pressed a gentle kiss to Moody’s shoulder, right above the faint silvering scar of his mating mark, and then planted a firmer one to the back of his neck. That one made tingles ignite low inside Moody’s stomach. His nipples hardened, responding to the quickening of his blood in his veins.

  Yet, the desire couldn’t totally win out against the fear.

  “How can I not worry?”

  Isaac slid one hand around to the front of Moody’s stomach, stroking the surface as if he was touching a particularly delicate artwork. “I’ll tell you,” he said. His voice was a soft command, the statement delivered with gentle sureness. “I’m still on the hunt for a job. We’ve got a while yet before money will be a real concern. By then, I’ll have landed something, even if it’s only part-time. Even if it’s as a stocker in a grocery store. Money is money.”

  “And the way you’re sending out your poems, someone is bound to respond.”

  Moody winced a little. While Isaac was out making a real effort, Moody was busy composing and editing poetry. He sent out set after set of poems to various magazines and publishers, and had already received a couple rejections. Most of his old works, he could look at with a fresh eye and understand that they weren’t deep, or meaningful. They were the depressed, gothic thoughts of someone trying too hard to sound intelligent. He fixed what he could, tossed what he couldn’t.

  His new poems were much better, as he wrote about hardship and rediscovery and anything else which struck him.

  “I’m never going to be published,” Moody said. That wasn’t being negative. He felt it to be true. “And even if a magazine wants one of my poems, the pay really isn’t great. It’s a lot less than a short story would bring in.”

  “Every little bit counts.”

  “$50 isn’t going to bring a baby into the world.”

  “You can buy a couple cases of diapers with it, though,” Isaac responded. His big body went still for a moment as a thought seemed to occur to him. His eyes narrowed. “I have a suggestion.”

  For some reason, Moody felt as if he really didn’t want to know what this suggestion would entail. However, he knew he couldn’t escape. Isaac would press the issue until he gave in. Plus, he was burrowed deep against the alpha and would have no chance of leaving to avoid what was about to be said.

  So, he said, “What?”

  “Your dad.”

  The mention of his father did a few things at once: it sent a shockwave of pain through his heart as he recalled the reason he was distant from his father in the first place, and it also made him sneer with bitterness… for the same reason.

  Isaac held him more firmly, pressing their bodies closer together. His comforting warmth did little to soothe Moody, and in fact served to irritate him a little bit. “Don’t give me that look,” Isaac murmured. He rubbed his palm in circles over the surface of Moody’s stomach, fingers trailing behind. “You don’t have to act like you’re suddenly best friends. Just, ask for help. Some money. Tell him if he wants a happy and healthy grandpup, he might want to give a helping hand.”

  “He’ll never go for that,” Moody said. His lips stayed twisted, though he could feel his sneer melting into a frown. His heart thudded in his chest at the very thought of asking his father for something, especially taking into account the way they had parted last time. “And that would be taking advantage of him anyway.”

  “His son wanting help is taking advantage?”

  Moody raised his shoulders in a helpless little shrug, not quite knowing what else he could say to get Isaac to believe him. Ever since he was very young, Moody’s father had disapproved of pretty much everything he had ever done. This baby would only
be the latest thing on a long list of disappointments.

  “Maybe think about it a little longer,” Isaac suggested, pressing fluttery little kisses all down the back of Moody’s neck in an attempt to soothe away the tension gathering there. “It’s not like you’re going to be popping this baby out tomorrow. There’s still time.”

  Nodding, Moody realized he felt a little better for having had this conversation. Even if he didn’t like this particular suggestion, it was good to be reminded that there were other avenues of assistance he hadn’t quite considered. It would take a little finagling, but everything might turn out alright in the end.

  “Come back to bed, baby. You need your sleep.” Isaac tugged gently on Moody’s hand, trying to guide him away.

  They returned to bed together, automatically falling into their usual positions. Moody slept on the inside of the bed, next to the wall, and Isaac stretched out protectively around him.

  Pulling the covers up over his shoulders, Moody closed his eyes and cuddled back against the huge wall of warmth that was Isaac. He no longer dreaded sleep in the way he used to. Something about sleeping in Isaac’s presence helped to chase away the bad dreams, easing the roughness of his awakenings. And if he did just so happen to be dizzy when he woke up, uncertain of where he was, all he had to do was focus on Isaac’s presence and everything would fall into place again.

  But something was bothering him.

  Restlessness worried at his nerves, stretching them even further than they already were. He wiggled, adjusted into a more comfortable position, and closed his eyes again.

  A second later, he shifted, pressed closer to Isaac.

  That was a little too warm, so he wriggled a little further away.

  But then he wasn’t touching the alpha as much as he wanted to be, so he rolled over and started to cuddle against him again. That was when he realized Isaac was wide awake and watching him, an amused smile curving on his lips.

  Moody looked up at him and blinked. “Hi.”