by Mathew Ortiz
“True, he was a hard Alpha. He pissed off people left and right…daily. I can see how different you are from him, and so does the pack. You’re a hardass bro, but fair. Dad judged without knowing all the details. He hurt a lot of people. You’re not Dad.”
“Thanks, Donnie.” He reached over and squeezed Donovan’s shoulder. They were good. More importantly, they had each other’s back. Their father had been a good Alpha, but many were not happy during his twenty-year reign. Some left rather than challenge him. Others tolerated him and stayed out of the way. He assured Dathan that he had a good chunk of their mother in him and was not becoming his father.
For Dathan and Donovan Temple, their mother hung the moon, and none could say otherwise. Joy Temple was fair, just, sweet-natured, and loving, much of what her mate was not. Where Daniel was steel, Joy was velvet. She tried over the years to balance her husband’s militant parenting style with her love for her two boys. When Donovan came out as gay, it was the one time she lost it with her mate. Daniel raged and threatened Donovan, about to cast his son out, exile him, making him a rogue wolf. He would never have a pack or a home, forever alone. Joy Temple erupted in a rage few had ever seen. Rounding on her mate, she had flat-out told him if he banished Donovan, she would go with him.
The idea his mate would leave him must have shocked Daniel Temple to the core. For the first time ever, he backed down. Donovan got to stay. Joy kept her boys together, and Daniel kept his mate. The truce was uneasy, but Joy didn’t care. Donovan sat talking with her one night, and she admitted that her love for her children was greater than her love for her mate. Donovan’s shock must have be evident because she sadly pointed out that just because you are mates does not mean the two of you will be happy together.
Not having a mate suited Donovan just fine. He wasn’t ready for that kind of responsibility. His brother, however, was not in a position to hold off finding a mate. As Alpha, part of Dathan’s duties was to find a mate and continue the family line. Not that bedmates were hard to find, Donovan smiled to himself. He and his brother were easy on the eyes.
Dathan was shorter than Donovan’s six-two frame by a couple of inches, but they were both slim-hipped and wide shouldered. Lean, like runners, they both had light caramel skin. Dathan had their father’s blue eyes, while Donovan’s were more of a blue fading to grey. Dathan had just cut his hair short, sheering off his tight, light brown curls. Donovan had just had his dreads redone. Tight and small, they looked like loose braids that hung down to the top of his shoulders. He loved his hair and spent quite a penny on its upkeep. He knew he was a hot looking man. He’d heard it enough, and so had Dathan. They both enjoyed the benefits. They weren’t twins; they were litter mates, born at the same time but not identical.
The landscaped changed…no, it didn’t change…its scent changed. Donovan had left the windows open on the jeep to let the air in. The warm summer air carried a plethora of scents, and it took all he had not to hang his head out the window and get a fix. A wolf’s nose was his or her most important sense, and right now it was telling him that they had entered a place that was tinged with magic. It was like the scent of ozone. It tickled your nose and ghosted over your sense of taste, stuck somewhere in-between. They were in Oswald country now. As much as he hated to admit it, he was nervous. Donovan hadn’t met many witches or other supernaturals. The conference he attended with Dathan a few months past was the first time he had seen other members of the various clans. He had been on overload at the scents in the room: brimstone, dust, sweetness and sour, all assaulting his poor snoot.
“I smell it, too. Sets my fur on end,” Dathan groused. Donovan only nodded. Something else was on the air. Elusive, it made his stomach flip-flop. What the fuck was that all about? They fell into a companionable silence as the sun dipped low on the horizon. Twilight was upon them as they pulled up to the massive wrought iron gates of The Oswald Estate. Donovan rolled down his window and spoke into the speaker hidden in an elaborate carved gargoyle. The buzzing of a camera hidden in the gargoyle’s eye focused on him.
“My name is Donovan Temple, Beta to Alpha Dathan Temple of Cold Creek Pack. We are here to see Margaret Oswald and the Oswald family by invitation.” He shouted at the speaker as the wind kicked up and the cold howl from off the bay carried over the grounds.
Nothing happened at first. Then a huge clank resounded as the gates opened slowly. Waiting until it was clear, Donovan drove through and took the drive up to the house. His parents’ home had been nice, a large timber-framed cabin deep in the Maine woods. As they approached Oswald House, their nice home started to appear like a shack. The house was huge. It sat perched near a high cliff on the right if one was looking at it directly. Stone and imposing, it was three stories high and sprouted nearly a dozen chimneys, all emitting smoke.
A low whistle came from his right. Dathan was staring unabashedly at the magnificent house. Slowing the jeep, Donovan stopped by the front door. He killed the engine, and they sat for a few minutes.
“Might as well get this over with, bro.” Donovan cocked a brow at Dathan. His brother, lost in thought, didn’t seem to hear him at first. He was about to say something else when Dathan yanked on the door handle and exited the jeep. Following suit, Donovan hurried to fall in behind his Alpha. From this point on he wasn’t Dathan Temple, his brother. He was Alpha Temple, leader of the Cold Creek Pack, and Donovan was is Beta. Dathan stopped at the door, Donovan behind him and to the right as the door swung open. A formally dressed East Indian man greeted them politely.
“Welcome to Oswald House, Alpha Temple. Please do come in. The family is waiting for you.”
Donovan could smell the startled amazement rolling off his brother, yet Dathan’s face remained neutral.
“Thank you…”
“Mohamed Singh, senior butler and head of the house staff.”
Dathan pointed to Donovan. “My Beta, Donovan Temple.’
The man nodded to both men and gestured for them to come inside. The two men walked through the larger, ornately carved doors. Scents assailed them: red meat, cologne, Pledge, cigarettes, man sex… and something else… It made Donovan’s nose twitch and balls draw up. The door closed behind them, and Singh led them into the house. Stopping just past the inner doors, Donovan was sure his jaw was dragging the floor. The place was huge!
He was staring straight up three floors to a magnificent stained glass roof when Dathan’s sharp nudge brought him back to the here and now. Dathan scowled at him, and Donovan lowered his eyes in submission. Some Beta I am, too busy gawking.
“If you gentlemen will follow me. Ms. Margaret and Mr. William and the family await you in the library,” Singh said as he walked, beckoning them to follow him.
Dathan looked over to Donovan and mouthed, The library!
Donovan’s eyes were wide as he mouthed back, I know!
Singh came to a door and pushed it open. He walked in and announced, “Alpha Dathan Temple of Cold Creek Pack and his Beta Donovan Temple.”
Dathan stiffened but walked forward. Donovan swallowed hard. The two men strode around Singh and came face to face with the vaunted Oswald family. Donovan blinked. They were not what he expected.
Dressed casually in early summer clothes, four men and three women rose to greet them. Striding over to them, a tall blond with green eyes smiled at them.
“Welcome to Oswald House. I’m William Blackthorne, eldest son.” Extending his hand, he shook Dathan’s first, then Donovan’s. A darkly handsome man came up behind William, and Donovan almost swallowed his tongue as the two men linked hands. “This is my bondmate and fiancé, Rushford Harrington”
The scent that was itching his nose increased. What the hell…oh fuck! Mate! Donovan stumbled slightly as he stepped forward. Dathan cast him a look.
The man grinned at them. He shook Dathan’s hand first. “Please call me Rush. A pleasure to meet you, Alpha Temple.”
Dathan visibly relaxed and smiled at William and Rush. “Thank you.�
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“I hope your drive was uneventful.” William motioned with his hands and the other family came closer. “You know my aunt, Margaret, the current Keeper and Mistress of the Earth clans.”
“Madam Keeper.” Dathan shook her hand, his face placid. Donovan discreetly sniffed, trying to find the owner of the scent that was making his mouth water and his canines itch to drop.
“I’m pleased we can me so informal, Alpha Temple. We have much to discuss. These are my sisters, Fredrika Oswald and Beatrice Kenttingham.” Both women shook Dathan’s hand, then Donovan’s.
“Delighted to meet you, Alpha Temple and you, Beta Temple.” Reeka smoothly said, and Dathan stopped her.
“Please call us Dathan and Donovan.”
Bea pursed her lips. “As you wish, Dathan. We only meant to show you the respect you deserve.”
Dathan finally smile. “I appreciate it. However, this is meant to be informal.”
“As you wish,” William said, and two men drew closer. “My brothers Duncan and Oliver. My sister Jaime is gone for the evening and unable to join us. I apologize for her absence.”
Duncan shook their hands. Donovan was shocked at Duncan Blackthorne’s appearance. While the others looked hale and hearty, Duncan was too thin, his face gaunt and sallow. When he smiled, the light didn’t reach his eyes. Discreetly, he sniffed Duncan, the scent of decay and death wafting to his nostrils. What the hell was going on here? He didn’t have time to contemplate the issue when it was Oliver Blackthorne’s turn to greet Dathan and Donovan.
As Oliver’s hand touched him, his scent wafted over him. Him! Mate! It was him. The rich, lush, exotic scent of mate flooded his nose, and Donovan gulped as his wolf howled inside him. The witch’s blue green eyes flew wide as a jolt of electricity passed between their hands. He knows! Donovan had caught a whiff of his mate’s scent at the council meeting, months ago but his brother had kept him too busy to track it. By the time he was free, the scent had gone cold, leaving Dononan itching and distracted. Now the source of the scent was staring wide eyed at him… a witch of all things!
He heard Dathan sniff, and his brother stared hard at the young blond witch. Dathan had to be scenting Donovan’s arousal. He fairly stank of it. His gaze narrowed.
“We have much to discuss, Madam Keeper, William.”
Margaret arched a finely plucked brow. Her gaze swept from Donovan to Oliver. Donovan’s gut clenched. She knows, too! “Margaret, please. And yes we do. But why don’t you, William, and I retire to his study? Singh will have your things taken to your rooms.” She inclined her head to the door.
“Follow me, Alpha Dathan.” William headed to the door, and Dathan gave Donovan a measured look. The don’t fuck this up and this is your Alpha talking look. The three left the room, and as they did, Donovan saw his brother sniff the air again. A dull flush and a flash scent of arousal came off his brother. Donovan’s brow furrowed. There were no females of mating age in the room. Who was Dathan popping wood for?
“If you’ll excuse us, Beta Donovan. My sister and I are heading into town. We will be back later for dinner.” With that, Bea and Reeka left the room. Duncan smirked.
“I have to call work. Oliver? Can you take Beta Donovan to his room?”
“Please, just Donovan.”
The smirk morphed into a knowing grin. “Donovan it is.” He left the room, and Donovan turned to Oliver.
He scented anxiety and arousal rolling off the witch. Oliver shook himself and strode out of the library, calling out as he did.
“If you’ll follow me.” And slammed right into the door frame. Flaming red, he tried to regain his cool.
Donovan’s smiled widened, and he licked his lips. This was going to be fun. He fell into step behind the stocky, muscled guy and admired the view. Oliver Blackthorne had one hell of an ass! Thick and juicy, it bounced as he walked, his tan shorts clinging to his cheeks. Am I drooling…is my tongue hanging out? His eyes roved over Oliver’s broad, thick shoulders. The lightweight white shirt clung to him and contrasted nicely against the delicious-looking golden skin.
Donovan stretched a leg, unsticking his balls from his left thigh. His boner was creeping upward, threatening to pop out of the top of his jeans. This is why mom says I should wear underwear. His cock convulsed, and he started leaking like a sieve.
They passed through a hallway and by a beautiful room filled with plants and comfy-looking furniture. Oliver still hadn’t spoken to him. He had to know they were mates. Why didn’t he say something? Of course, walking behind him, it took all Donovan had not to grab Oliver’s ass and press his nose into the crease. Dear God, he wanted to inhale more of the man’s intoxicating smell. He wasn’t paying attention and slammed right into Oliver’s back. Donovan groaned as his cock wedged into the other man’s ass. Imagine his surprise when Oliver shuddered and groaned, too. Donovan leaned over and brought his lips to the pinking shell of Oliver’s left ear.
“Wanna fuck?”
Chapter 4
Oliver spun around and shoved Donovan back. “Wow. I feel so special.” He crossed his arms over his chest and took a cleansing breath, reining in his out-of-control pulse.
Donovan gave him an impish grin, and Oliver almost swooned. The wolf was seriously sexy. When the Temples arrived in the library, Oliver’s witch’s sense had flared like a Roman candle. It was like ants crawling inside his skull. It only ceased when Donovan Temple shook his hand. The connection snapped into place, and his witch’s sense tried to start the bonding process. Fists clenched, Oliver pulled back his power. It physically hurt, but he was not going there. No bonding!
That hadn’t stopped his body from reacting to the big wolf. His balls had tingled, his cock had plumped, and he had started to sweat. Oh yeah, he had the major hots for Temple. Trying to gain some composure, especially after dorkafying himself by hitting the door frame, Oliver led Donovan to the guest wing. He was going to dump Lassie here in his room and call Gregory to see if he wanted to go out for a drink.
Donovan leaned in, his nose to Oliver’s neck and inhaled deeply. Oliver jerked back and snapped.
“Stop sniffing me, Muttly!”
“Can’t help it. You smell good enough to eat.” His pink tongue wetted his lips. “Bet you taste even better.”
“Again, wow. It would seem that your reputation is well-deserved, Beta Temple.” Oliver turned and stomped up the stairs to the guest bedrooms.
“What? Hey, what do you mean by that?” Donovan bounded up after him.
Oliver chuckled wryly. “Your name is on the men’s room wall at the Brewing Spell. For a good time, call the Big Bad Wolf, Donovan Temple. 555-8446. You know how queens gossip. You’ve fucked your way through all of the available male ass in Maine and have spread your love to the other New England Colonies. Good thing we can’t catch STDs, Beta Temple.”
“Why is that?”
“Let’s just say some of the people I know you’ve slept with are…how shall I put this nicely…are some of the biggest skanks in the Supernature.”
“Hey! I won’t apologize for liking sex.”
“Of course you won’t. When you sniffed me, I smelled something, too.” Oliver strolled down the hall and came to an abrupt stop at a door near the end.
Donovan stopped, hands on hips and growled at him. “And what was that?”
“I smelled man whore.” Oliver opened the door and jerked his chin at it. “Your room, Beta Tem-.”
“Donovan. My name is Donovan.” The snarl should have frightened Oliver. Instead is made his blood sing in his veins. “Who are you kidding, little witch? I smelt it, but you felt it. We’re mates.”
Oliver gasped and backed away from the wolf. “Back off, Rover. Yes, I won’t deny it. But I don’t want a bondmate.”
“I don’t want a mate.” The young beta glided closer, and Oliver went hot all over, his body tightening with need. “That settled, we can at least have some no frills, mindless, and--I’m sure--awesome sex.” Donovan lifted a finger an
d traced a line across Oliver’s jaw. The skin tingled where he touched, and Oliver’s resolve faltered. Almost.
“No.”
“Why not?” Donovan growled. His tongue snaked out, and he licked Oliver’s neck. Oliver shivered but pushed him away.
“That’s none of your concern.” Stepping back, he motioned Donovan into the room. “Dinner is at six.” He was about to leave when the wolf started to strip. Transfixed, his eyes took in every inch of the sexy wolf. The shirt came off first. A broad chest covered in a smattering of light brown hair led to a flat stomach. The happy trail disappeared into a pair of low-slung jeans. With deliberately slowness, Donovan unsnapped each button on the fly and let his pants fall. Oliver’s tongue rolled in his mouth as Donovan stepped out of his jeans after kicking off his sneakers. Long and uncut, his cock was the same incredible latte brown as his skin. His pubic hair was trimmed back, and his balls swung low and were devoid of hair. He stretched, his arms long over his head.
“Like what you see?” The man’s raw sensuality threatened to overwhelm Oliver’s senses.
“I’d be a fool to say no.” Oliver gave Donovan one last look. “My answer is still no.” Pivoting on his heels, Oliver power walked back to the main part of the house, because running would lose him cool points. The tingle in his head was screaming now, chasing him all the way.
***
Pain, why was there so much pain? His whole body ached, and again the convulsions started. Groaning he turned over in the bed and emptied the pitiful contents of his stomach into the wastebasket. Cracking open crusted eyes, the glare of late day sun burned his retinas, and he cried out in pain. Shaking, sweating, his body betrayed him, and urine, hot and foul, coursed down his leg, pooling under his ass. His stench made him gag. His stomach heaved again as a cool cloth touched his brow. Jerkily, his eyes locked onto the face of the person above him. She was plain. Plain face but kind eyes. She was wearing a type of headdress he didn’t understand.