Destiny's Love: A Wolf Shifter Mpreg Romance (Savage Love Book 1)

by Preston Walker

  And I do too much for me.

  “You never ask for help. You never rely on anyone. You never take a break. You never just stop. You’re never in the moment, always ten steps ahead of yourself. I just do whatever I want, even when I shouldn’t.”

  “I came to you when I needed help, didn’t I? When Brock wouldn’t listen to me? That’s how I do it.”

  “You make it sound so easy, and it’s not. I’m an alpha. We aren’t supposed to act that way.”

  “Who gives a fuck?” Markus snapped. He felt a fierce gaze drilling into the back of his skull, warning him to watch his language. Probably some mother, trying to protect her child from the ugly side of the world. “You alphas think about things so weirdly. Going it alone isn’t being strong. Pushing yourself until you’re all gone isn’t strong. Knowing what your limits are, knowing that you aren’t alone, that’s strength. Knowing you aren’t in control, instead of just pretending you are when everything’s falling apart, is strength. And courage. And all the rest of the things you macho idiots like to think you have a plethora of.”

  Destiny seemed to think about this declaration for a very long time, as if the words he’d just heard were clever and wise. Markus had no idea if that was the case. He’d only said what his heart felt, giving voice to the thoughts he’d been having about Destiny for ages. “And what about omegas?”

  “I don’t know about other omegas,” Markus replied truthfully. “But I know I’ve been stupid in the past.”

  “You sure have.” Destiny gave a small, wretched sound, then scrubbed his face with his hands. He seemed to be trying to pull himself together, though his grief couldn’t have been anywhere near spent.

  You stubborn piece of work, Markus thought affectionately.

  Destiny was so strict, so firm in his beliefs.

  Markus knew that he, himself, was too flexible. His flaw as an omega was that he was too willing to go along, whether that was because he had been told that was his place in life or if it was a result of his own personality. He had given in, switched tactics, followed a different path the moment this one grew too hard.

  Together, they might have balanced each other out if they had only known how to do so. They were so young still back then, so stupid.

  If they were going to learn these things, it was better late than never.

  Markus closed his eyes, made a silent and solemn vow that he would see this through to the very end no matter what happened.

  When he opened his eyes again, Destiny had mostly put all his pieces back together. His cheeks were still marred by tear tracks, his eyes red and watery, but he looked more like himself than he had during this entire conversation.

  Destiny pulled in a deep breath, then let it out through his nose. His nasal passages must have been clogged from crying, the air whistling as it exited. Markus found himself smiling a little at the funny sound, taking comfort in this harsh world wherever it could be found.

  “After I told them that it was definitely Stacy, the cop followed me down to the station and asked if I knew anything about what had happened. I told him pretty much everything and what I thought the reason for all this was. He showed me some pictures of the crime scene, asked if anything in them jogged my memory.”

  “And did they?” Markus held his breath, feeling like he was right on the cusp of some grand discovery for some reason.

  “Most of the pictures were of nothing. Stacy’s belongings that she had with her, the same stuff she always took when she’s out and about. The ground. The walls. I think they were the control photos, because nothing struck me until the picture of the switchblade. Did you know that it’s illegal to manufacture those, now? They make assisted-opening knives now, but they aren’t the same thing. That’s what the cop told me.”

  Faint, tingling alarm bells started ringing in the back of Markus’ mind. “What switchblade?”

  “Black handle. Golden blade. It looked very old, very loved. What? What is it?”

  “Was there a long scratch going down the length of the grip? From screw to screw, pretty much?”

  Destiny shook his head. His eyes were abruptly dry, focused and narrowed with interest. “I couldn’t tell. It was just a photograph. They take them before moving around the crime scene. The lighting might have been bad. Or the angle. Or…there was a lot of blood. You know something.”

  “I know who that blade belongs to.” His thoughts felt like they were going numb, the alarm bells having morphed into a sort of white noise that slowly filtered forward until it was all that he was aware of. “That’s Isaac’s knife. Isaac Reed. Remember when I told you about the meeting, he was the only one who supported me.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Surer than I’ve ever been. Hard to miss a knife like that. He was always cleaning it, was so proud of being able to flaunt it around because of how old it was. I guess the age is what made it legal?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Do you think he did this?”

  “Fuck, no.” Markus shook his head vehemently. “It’s the same reason why your own knife was used. Shit, if it got around that Isaac’s weapon was used in this attack, that would cause so much confusion. He gives support, then takes it away? No one would trust him. It would make the whole pack uneasy.”

  “This is escalating, Markus. It’s only going to get even worse. Goddamn. And I can’t even bring this to the police. Or should I?”

  Markus tilted his head. “Why can’t you tell them that it belongs to Isaac?”

  “I was told not to say anything about the investigation, not to anyone. If I go in and tell them that my boyf…my friend knows who the blade belongs to, it’s going to be obvious that I yapped.”

  “And I can’t do it on my own, so it’s the same problem. But I think we should do it anyway. Remember what I said about asking for help?”

  Destiny stared restlessly down at the sand at his side, stirring it around with one finger. “I guess you’re right. I should go take care of that as soon as I leave here.”

  “Fuck that. I’m coming with you.”

  “What?”

  “I’m coming with you,” Markus repeated firmly. “I’ll make it seem like I goaded you into it. They won’t blame you. And I should be the one to testify that I don’t think Isaac had anything to do with this. It’ll mean more for me to say it than for you to, because I know him.”

  “Are you and this Isaac very friendly?”

  “Is that jealousy that I detect?”

  Destiny said, “No,” a bit too quickly.

  “Uh-huh.”

  Why was it almost exciting for Destiny to be jealous? Because it meant there was still interest there, interest that went further than simple sexual desires? Feelings that had outlasted the test of time, the trial of years?

  “Well, for your information, I haven’t been friendly like that with anyone. Not since you. Are we going to talk about what happened between us on the beach now?”

  “Do you think we should?”

  “You know what they say,” Markus joked. “Don’t mix business with romance.”

  Destiny tried to smile and failed. He picked himself up from the sand then reached a hand down for Markus. “When this is all over.”

  It didn’t seem like a question, but neither was it a statement of fact. Uncertain, excited by this uncertainty in a way he couldn’t quite fathom, Markus let Destiny help him up. Hands still clasped together, they left the beach and headed to talk to the police together.

  8

  It couldn’t be, could it?

  Surely not.

  As Markus looked at the spots he had plotted on his map, his heart quickening in his chest, running a thousand miles per hour, he felt it absolutely could.

  In the days that had passed since he went to see the police with Destiny, he had continued his constant patrols of the city with little result. Each time he became discouraged, he remembered his solemn promise to keep going and redoubled his efforts. No news was good news in this situation,
and he forced himself to keep to that mindset.

  Now, it looked like there was news.

  He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and tapped his thumb on Destiny’s name to get a call started. He looked at his hand with a sense of amazement, wondering how on earth he could possibly feel so calm and steady when he was quaking so hard on the inside.

  Each ring in his ear was a frantic buzz, a desperate summons. He held his breath, heart pounding, chest aching from the lack of oxygen. The ache helped him to keep grounded, otherwise he might simply have just drifted away up into the endless sky, burgeoned upwards on a thermal of nerves.

  After about four rings, he was ready to put the phone down and just drive over to the garage himself. He didn’t think he could hold still much longer, not when he had news like this to share.

  Halfway through the fifth ring, coincidentally when he was halfway through leaping off the bed, the tone suddenly cut out and was replaced by that distinctive crackling sound that constitutes a lack of cell signal. That meant Destiny was in his garage, because the whole place was a dead spot. Whether it was the concrete walls or the presence of so many shifters all in one place, Markus didn’t know. And he didn’t care.

  “Hello?” came the faint, crackling answer. “Markus?”

  “I have a lead,” Markus blurted out. “I don’t know what it means but I’ve got it.”

  For a moment, there was nothing but silence. He wondered for a rapid, frantic second if the call had been dropped entirely. Then Destiny cleared his throat, a rumbling and abrasive sound to the ear. “You’re going to have to say that again. I don’t think I heard you properly.”

  “You did,” Markus said. He was aware he was speaking much too fast to be understandable, and he pulled in a breath to try and slow himself down. It didn’t really work, so he started pacing around his bedroom. If Brock had been home, this behavior would have roused his suspicions. Markus didn’t think he would care in this situation. For the first time in his life, he felt he would have shoved his brother out of the way in favor of someone else.

  “It sounded like you said you have a lead.” Destiny spoke with the doubtful slowness of someone who has long since lost hope.

  “I do!” Markus insisted. “Okay, look. This is so fucking important. Get a map of the city. I don’t care how. Just get one. Doesn’t have to be perfect.”

  “Give me a moment.”

  A series of shuffling sounds ensued, followed by the twin thumps of a drawer being opened and then shut.

  “All right. I’ve got one. What am I looking for?”

  Was it just his imagination, or did he detect a tinge of excitement being crushed beneath that dourness?

  “Get a pen, too.”

  “Markus, would you just get to the point?”

  That might have stung at some other point in time, but Markus hardly noticed right now.

  “Okay. Stacy died at the library, right?”

  “Couple blocks away.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Put a dot in that area.”

  The sound of scribbling followed, punctuated afterwards with a beat of silence.

  “Okay. Reuben and Jacob and I were attacked not far from Bayview Park.”

  Bayview Park was far to the east, deep within Lethal Freedom territory. Markus heard more scribbling, then another impatient pause. It was almost like he could feel Destiny’s emotions as his own right now.

  “And then, Pockets wasn’t actually all that far from the hospital.”

  “Right. So, I’m looking at a wonky triangle right now. How does this help?”

  “What’s in the middle of the triangle?” Markus dashed back to his bed and jabbed his finger down on his own map, though Destiny couldn’t see him do it. “It’s the interstate. I-110.”

  “Markus, if you plot any three points on a map, you’re always going to get a triangle.”

  He felt some of his enthusiasm start to slip and grabbed anxiously for it to keep that from happening. “I know, but it’s not a coincidence that there’s a huge highway in the middle of all that. They could be coming from the north, using the highway, and then radiating outward around that point to cause hell for us.”

  “I don’t know. There are a lot of other spots in the middle of these three points.”

  “And I’ve been through most of that area!” Markus started to roll up the map with his free hand, then tucked it into his pocket. “There was nothing there. Because they aren’t there. They’re up north! And by following the interstate, they could be coming from anywhere and arriving here pretty damn quickly.”

  “I get it.” Destiny seemed to perk up a little bit. He seemed to have more confidence in the idea now that Markus had explained that he’d already searched the area on its own.

  I knew that was the right thing to do!

  “So, what do we do when we get to the interstate? How do we know how far north we’re going?”

  “I don’t know. But I’m going there right now. There has to be something to this, and I’m going to find out what it is. I’ll text you when I can, okay? I have to go while there’s still a lot of daylight left.”

  Markus started to hang up the phone, already charging down the hallway.

  “Wait.”

  He dug his heels into the carpet, bracing one hand along the wall. The tone Destiny used was so firm, so commanding, so very alpha, that it had literally stopped him in his tracks. It was the voice of confidence and surety, the voice of someone who absolutely believed they were going to be right.

  “If you’re going to tell me to wait for you…”

  Then you haven’t learned anything.

  He finished the thought in his head, because he could hear swishing from the other end of the line. The only thing that could be caused by was Destiny shaking his head vehemently back and forth, his hair striking the speaker.

  “I trust you. But don’t take a stupid risk. Bring water. Food. Some money. A flashlight. Charge your phone before you go. And for fuck’s sake, wear your helmet.”

  Markus felt his heart swell with warmth for the alpha. This trust was what he had always wanted, and it felt so good to finally have it. “I won’t take any risks. I promise. I just want to see if I can find them.”

  “And what are you going to do if you do?”

  “When I do, I’m going to head back and tell the police. If I can get some pictures first, even better. They’ll regret telling me not to interfere any further.” He couldn’t help but to smile a little at the recent memory of a police officer tossing her hands up into the air with frustration. “They really weren’t happy that I coerced you into telling me about Stacy.”

  “Maybe they’ll change their minds about you. Make you a deputy.” Destiny also sounded as if he was smiling, even if it was the tiniest smile on the face of the planet. Markus wished he could see it, that he could hold Destiny’s face in his hands and kiss the corner of his mouth to encourage that crooked little grin to grow.

  “I’ll just settle with not being looked at like I’m the most annoying thing on the face of the earth. I need to get going on this, okay?”

  “Good luck. And Markus? Be careful with my muffin. Don’t let him get hurt.”

  My muffin.

  Funny how it took a disaster to get them to realize that some things could be fixed.

  Markus had no idea the depth of feeling behind those words, whether they were teasing or heartfelt. The phone quality was just too bad to tell. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to know anyway, wasn’t sure exactly what he would want the intention to be. For now, he would just take comfort in the fact that Destiny cared for him. The specifics could come later.

  “I will,” he whispered and ended the call.

  The first thing he did was run back to his room and toss his phone back onto the charger so he might get a few extra minutes out of it when it really counted. Turning back, he grabbed a Walmart bag from the stash in the kitchen cupboard and started tossing things into it. Granola bars, a few bottles of wa
ter. He couldn’t find a flashlight, so he took a lighter from the junk drawer and hoped Brock wouldn’t come home and notice it was missing.

  He also shoved his wallet into his pocket, followed by the keys to his bike. Then, tossing his helmet onto his head, he ran back to his room to grab his phone. It had only gone from 50 to 52 percent charged in the few minutes he’d been gone, but he supposed it would have to do. He couldn’t wait any longer.

  Besides, everyone knew the last little bits of battery life lasted for an inordinate amount of time. Every drop of juice he could squeeze out was going to be worth it, especially if he could get some pictures in.

  That done, he hurried to the front door and tossed it wide open. Warm air flooded in to greet him.

  So did the broad side of Brock’s chest.

  Markus leaped backward almost before he even registered his brother was there. His heart started hammering as he realized what this must look like, and he struggled to keep his expression composed.

  “Brock! Hi!” he blurted out.

  Brock was still in the middle of taking a step backward, features caught in a grimace of surprise. His eyebrows furrowed together with confusing. “Markus? What are you doing with that?” He lifted one hand, gesturing to the Walmart bag which dangled from Markus’ wrist.

  He flashed a grin, hoping it looked genuine and convincing. God, lying was so hard. Why had he never realized before how impossible it was to pretend everything was normal, when you had suddenly become aware you had no idea what your face naturally looked like? Things just happened the way they were supposed to, like a heart beating or an eye blinking. Replicating those things of his own accord made him feel like he was a robot trying to pretend he was human. Like something was always going to be just a little bit off.

  “It’s a nice day. I figured I’d go for a picnic.”

  “You? A picnic?”

  “I’ve been really into the idea lately.”

  Brock’s confusion suddenly eased away. He nodded, his sharp confusion fading away to complacent acceptance. He clapped his hand on Markus’ shoulder, gripping him affectionately—and maybe just a fraction too roughly—before letting go. “I should have known. You and your crazy ideas. Can’t sit still for a second, can you?”