by Lynn Hagen
Oliver ground his teeth as tears stung the back of his eyes. He wanted to scream as the rage built inside. It kept festering until Oliver wanted to tear his room apart. His anger escalated when he felt the tears finally fall.
Oliver took the bag of cotton candy as he strolled along, the blue sugar melting on his tongue as he and Evan got in line to ride the Ferris wheel. Evan was a nice enough wolf, but Oliver couldn’t help but wish it was Micah. He knew there was a way to jump-start the mating, but all the mates were being tight-lipped about it. Besides, would he really want to force the claiming? He would always wonder if Micah truly wanted him or if he was with Oliver because he had tricked him into it.
The Ferris wheel stopped at the top, and Oliver peered over the side at the activity below. Sometimes he wished he could be anybody but himself. He could hear the music and see the smiles as couples held each other’s hands and laughed. Why couldn’t that be him? He spotted all the warriors below. They weren’t hard to miss with their massive sizes. He even saw the mates running around to the various stands, trying to win the cheesy stuffed animals.
Oliver spotted skaters to the far left of the Fair. They were in some sort of park showing off their skills. His eyes followed the stunts and tricks the guys were performing. Maybe he could talk Evan into going over there for awhile.
His seat jerked as the ride slowly descended, bringing him back down to earth.
“Can we go over to the park for a moment?”
“Why would you want to go over there?” Evan’s suspicious amber eyes settled on Oliver. The wolf was known to have an air of danger about him. Blair once said the guy breathed pain. Evan didn’t take shit from anyone.
“Just wanted to watch the skaters for awhile.” Oliver studied his escort for the day. He was a handsome wolf. His brown hair fell in waves to his shoulders, and he had beautiful amber eyes that seemed to glow. Oliver looked him up and down, appreciating the honed muscles and firmness in his fatigue pants and tight black T-shirt. He wasn’t bulky like some of the warriors. He was sculpted and compact, just the right amount of bulge.
Oliver leaned in a little closer, inhaling Evan’s masculine scent. His cock jerked when the musky odor assailed his senses. He stepped back when he realized what he had been doing. This wasn’t Micah, and he needed to keep his distance. So why did he want to lean in again?
Evan shrugged. “I don’t see a problem with that.”
He led the warrior over to the edge of the park as they both watched the boys and their talents. Oliver slid his hand in Evan’s as he led him over to a park bench. He didn’t release him as they sat down, Oliver sweating bullets.
Evan gently tugged his hand free as Oliver drew in a deep breath. He was confused at his actions, questioning his body’s reaction. Micah was his mate, wasn’t he? Oliver felt the pull, felt the connection, so why was he feeling attracted to Evan? Oliver laid his elbows on his knees as he watched the squirrels run around, chasing each other up and down a tree, and listened to the skateboards grinding against pavement. He felt the heat from Evan’s close thighs.
Did he really want to watch the skaters, or did he want to be alone with Evan? The thought scared him. Maybe they should get back to the fair. Oliver pulled an image of Micah up and saw his gorgeous, shabby, black hair wet after a shower, his black eyes twinkling when he tried to joke with Oliver. The way he looked at Oliver with disappointment, and the way Oliver always felt so alone and isolated.
Oliver scrubbed his face as he sat back. What the hell was wrong with him? Maybe he had ink poisoning from the tattoo and it was eating brain cells. His head fell back in irritation at the way he was acting.
“You okay, pup?” Evan leaned over with concern on his face.
Oliver closed the distance. As his lips grazed Evan’s, his breath hitched.
Evan jumped up and backed away, shock registered in slow increments as his eyes narrowed.
“What game are you playing at, Oliver?” Evan looked around to see if anyone had seen the chaste kiss.
“I–I’m” Oliver shot off the bench, running back into the crowd as his mind raced to try and explain what the hell had just happened. Micah, he wanted Micah. Not Evan or any other man on the planet. Micah.
He raced past the rides and down toward the end of the pier, grabbing the railing as he felt bile rise in his throat. Tears stung his eyes as he contemplated jumping into the water to get away from his traitorous self. How could he have done that to his wolf? Why had he done it?
“Oliver!”
Oliver couldn’t look. He heard his brother, Blair, yelling for him, but he didn’t want to be found. How could he face his warrior knowing he had cheated on him? It was unforgivable.
Oliver looked over his shoulder to see the warriors heading his way with the mates in tow. His eyes locked onto Evan as shame filled his entire being. His hands tightened on the rail as he swung his legs over, plummeting to the cold and angry water.
“Can I talk to you, Maverick?” Jasper asked as he knocked on the open office door.
Maverick swung his legs off of his desk and sat up, “Sure, come in.” He waved Jasper to one of the leather chairs seated in front of his desk. Maverick sat back and pulled on his soul patch, already anticipating the conversation.
He looked fondly at his redheaded Sentry. Jasper was the paradox of his pack. He was an able and strong warrior but built sleek and trim, the shortest of them all at five nine. He held his own with the best of them but made some killer ass chocolate chip cookies and manicotti. Maverick couldn’t figure out if Jasper was a feminine warrior or a warrior with a touch of femininity. He knew without a doubt he was a true submissive. Not to his pack mates, but to his mate. Or he would be if he ever got his head out of his ass and let Zeus claim him.
“I didn’t mean to bring trouble to our pack. I’m just confused as hell. I feel the pull. It’s getting stronger the longer I wait. I also want the claiming, want my mate, it’s just that…” Jasper twisted his hands in his lap.
“Cody.” Maverick offered.
“Yeah. I love him with all my heart but have never fooled myself that he would ever be my mate. I can’t hurt him, Alpha. He’s my best friend, my Code-man.” Jasper’s breath hitched as tears welled up in his eyes.
Maverick came around his desk and sat in the chair next to Jasper’s, laying his hand on the misty-eyed warrior’s shoulder.
“I’m not going to force you to do what you aren’t ready for. This is a decision only you can make. Just remember that two hearts are involved and one is going to be broken. You just have to search yours and decide which one. Cody still has a chance at finding his mate, and yours is waiting for you. Do you really want to pass up the chance at him? You only have one. Remember that.” Maverick smiled sympathetically at Jasper as he left him to his thoughts.
Oliver was cold down to his bones, his body shook as his teethed chattered so loudly he thought they would shatter in his mouth. His hands were gripped into tight fists while blankets were piled and tucked around him.
Evan held him close as water dripped from his hair. Oliver’s brain was only half working, but he knew Evan had dived in after him. Why? Why would the warrior want to save him after the humiliation he caused?
“Thanks, Paul,” someone said as more blankets were placed around his shivering body.
“Let’s get him home.” Evan stood and carried Oliver to the waiting SUV. He crawled into the back, cradling Oliver close. Why was Evan being so protective? Oliver was too cold and exhausted to try and make sense of it. He laid his head against Evan’s chest as he tried in vain to soak up the wolf’s body heat.
“Why, Oliver?” Evan whispered into his ear.
“Kissing or jumping?” he joked quietly.
Evan growled. “Both.”
Oliver averted his gaze. Why did he? Couldn’t be a midlife crisis, he was only eighteen. He didn’t have an urge to now. Was it a momentary weakness? Why would he be weak?
“I don’t know.” He shrug
ged as he looked back up at Evan, feelings of fondness seeping through his chest, but nothing more.
“Are you attracted to me, Oliver?” Evan asked even lower. Loco was sitting in the driver’s seat.
“Again, I don’t know.” Oliver curled up on Evan’s lap as question after question bombarded him in his mind.
“Sleep, young one. Worry about it later.” Evan pulled the blankets tighter around him as the lull of the ride rocked Oliver to sleep.
Micah ran through the foyer, pulling Oliver from Evan’s arms. “What happened?” He could feel his mate shaking and soaking wet.
“He jumped into the water down at the marina,” Loco answered him.
“Why the hell would he do that?” Micah pulled Oliver tight to his chest as he waited for someone to explain what was going on.
“I honestly don’t know.” Murdock stepped up.
Micah took the steps two at a time to get Oliver out of his wet clothes and warm liquid inside of him. He knew humans caught colds easily, and he didn’t want his mate sick. There were things like pneumonia and strep throat that could harm him. Oliver was young with a healthy immune system, but he didn’t want to chance anything.
He took Oliver to his bed and pulled his sopping wet boots off, peeling away his drenched socks. Oliver seemed to be exhausted because he slept through it. Micah pulled Oliver’s arms out of his black pullover and gently slid it over his head. The thing weighed a ton soaking wet. He stopped for a moment, realizing this would be the first time he saw his mate naked.
Micah had to push that thought away. This was about getting him warm as quickly as possible, wasn’t it?
He removed the black T-shirt, and his breath caught. Micah stared down at the tattoo on Oliver’s chest. He ran his fingers over it, amazed at the sight of his name inked in a beautiful pattern. The clouds above the letters were surreal with a moon hiding halfway behind it. He leaned closer to discover that his name wasn’t drawn with lines but smaller words that formed the letters. Micah’s heart clenched when he saw that it was only one word repeated over and over again, love.
His hands shook as he unsnapped the wet denim and pulled them down his legs. He was commando. Micah stared at his flaccid cock nestled against his thigh. Even in a dormant state, it was breathtaking. Oliver kept his hairs trimmed low which Micah thought was sexy as all hell. His own cock jumped at the sight and started filling. He pulled the jeans the rest of the way off and fought off the lust that seized him, grabbing the duvet and covering his mate. He called downstairs and asked someone to bring him hot broth and tea.
Gathering the wet clothes, he dumped then in the laundry chute then returned to the bed. Oliver was a stunning young man. His brown hair was cut short with lighter highlights streaking through it. His face was angelic in sleep. The piercings seemed out of place on such a soft face. He liked them. They just didn’t seem to fit right now.
His mate was trim and fit, standing six one. Micah always had trouble breathing when Oliver turned his crystal blue eyes on him.
Oliver stirred, and Micah sat on the bed next to him, running his hands through his mate’s hair. He loved him more than anything. Maybe he was being selfish in waiting. He was only trying to protect him. He leaned down and ran his lips over Oliver’s, feeling Oliver’s breath exhale onto his. Micah turned his head and nuzzled his cheek against Oliver’s, feeling the smooth skin caress under his affection.
Micah pulled away when a knock sounded on his door, Jasper held a tray with the items he requested. He thanked him and carried it over to the bed. Should he wake him or let him sleep? He needed warmth. Sleep could claim him again once the broth and tea were inside of him.
“Wake up, baby.” Micah ran his hand down the side of Oliver’s face as Oliver’s eyes fluttered. “That’s it. Wake up.”
Oliver began to shake. His lip trembled from the cold. Micah pulled him up into a sitting position and brought the cup of broth over to his lips.
“Sip it. It’s hot.” Micah held the mug as Oliver’s lips touched the rim, his eyes locked onto Micah’s. A single tear slid down his mate’s face.
“Hush, baby, dry your eyes. We’ll discuss the whys later. I want you warm now.” Micah lifted the cup to Oliver’s lips once again but Oliver turned his head. His shoulders shook as he confessed.
“I was unfaithful, Micah.”
Micah’s world turned on its axis. The four words repeating over and over in his head. No. no, no. Not his mate. Who? Who touched his Oliver? Who lay with his mate?
Rage ripped through his soul as his canines punched through and his eyes burned crimson. His claws shattered the mug in his hand as they shot from his fingers, hot liquid splashing onto his thighs. He had to get away from his mate, but not before he found out who.
“Name, now.” He growled in a voice that rivaled Satan’s.
Oliver shook his head, pulling back in fear.
Micah threw back his head and released a howl. His pain and anguish could be heard within the cry.
Micah braced his hands on either side of Oliver’s head onto the pillow. “You will not leave this room and no one—” He leaned closer, his hot breath almost touching Oliver’s lips. “No one is to come into this room. Do you understand me?”
Oliver nodded in quick bursts then Micah pulled away.
He stood, looking down at Oliver with such pain in his heart. Oliver began to cry, but he couldn’t deal with it right now. Micah shook his head then slammed the door as he made his escape. Micah was in a world of pain. He shifted right outside his bedroom door then raced down the winding staircase. He couldn’t think. His head and heart were in a battle. Micah leapt, crashing through the front window as he ran from the hurt threatening to tear his heart out.
Chapter Four
Blair knocked on his brother’s door. It had been seven days since he had seen him, and almost every tray that was brought to him was returned untouched. He worried that Oliver was trying to starve himself to death. Why had his brother cheated on his mate? This didn’t make sense to him. Oliver wasn’t like that. Micah hadn’t been seen since the day they returned from the fair.
The door cracked open, and Blair pushed through before Oliver could open it all the way.
“Get out! No one can be in here. Please, Blair, get out,” Oliver begged as he pushed Blair back through the door.
“Will you stop it? I’m your damn brother. If Micah thinks something is going on with us, then he’s lost his marbles.” Blair was worried that Micah had done just that. The wolf had looked crazed when he burst through the front window and escaped to the forest.
“No one. He said no one.” Oliver slammed the door in his face. Well, fuck. Now what? Blair had noticed the sunken eyes and the lost weight before he was kicked out. His brother’s eyes were darting everywhere and unfocused.
Blair walked back down to the den. Something had to be done. He couldn’t leave Oliver in the state he was in, so how could he fix this? First, he had to find Micah then he had to get those two together. Easier said than done.
Oliver lay in Micah’s bed. He held the pillow that had his mate’s fading scent close to his chest. He played the event over and over in his mind. He knew he should have worded the confession differently, but he thought Micah would let him explain. Instead, Micah had turned into a psycho wolf on him, and Oliver couldn’t blame him in the least.
Now he would never know what it was like to be held by his mate, made love to, or be claimed. He would be stuck in this house with a man that should be his but never would be. The thought of that plunged his depression deeper into the abyss.
His skin itched to be held, to be loved. That’s all he had wanted. Micah was forever sidestepping him and treating him like a kid brother or son rather than a mate, and his dejected feeling only worsened with time. Oliver knew all this, but it still didn’t excuse what he had done. Now he’d lost Micah forever.
Oliver had stared blankly at the wall for seven days now, only getting up to use the bathroom or answe
r the door. At first, he didn’t even acknowledge the knocking until Maverick’s booming voice demanded he do so, but the wolf stayed outside, not entering, telling Oliver that he better start eating.
Oliver agreed, but only in words. His appetite had left with Micah. His sanity had left with Micah. A hole now existed where his heart had once been.
Oliver began to silently cry again as he drifted back off to sleep.
Micah slipped back into his bedroom. It was three in the morning, and he couldn’t fight the pull any longer. He needed his mate. He had wandered the forest for a week, eating the prey he caught and sleeping in the cold. The first few days he had been a savage, the wolf killing any prey that came too near. Blood was what he had wanted, and blood was what he had spilled. He ate what he killed, but the rage had consumed him.
Micah stood over the bed and stared down at his sleeping mate. Why? Why would Oliver lay in the arms of another? This question haunted him from the moment he had entered the woods. Was he that bad of a mate that he drove his young man to another?
He leaned in closer to see the black rings around his mate’s eyes. Pulling the covers back he saw the thinness creeping up Oliver’s skin. This concerned Micah. He didn’t want his mate’s health suffering. He still loved him deeply, but his heart had been ripped out.
He had to know why. He had to find out who the hell fucked his mate. They would be disemboweled. Micah would accept no excuse from the one who soiled Oliver.
“Oliver, wake up,” Micah demanded in a voice that was not gentle.
“Get out! He said no one. Get out!” Oliver screamed as he jumped up and pushed at Micah.
Micah grabbed his wrists, pulling Oliver into his arms. “It’s Micah, calm down.” He was angry, hurt and betrayed, but he still wanted to hold his mate. Claim him and love him.
“I’m so sorry.” Oliver sobbed into Micah’s chest. His mate’s arms wrapped around his waist as he held on. “Please don’t leave me.”