Silently, Cooper poked at the ring, turning it on its side. There was a simple inscription inside. More than words.
He looked up at Park, who was blushing and looking down at the ring in Cooper’s hand. “I, um... I know we didn’t say anything about rings. And you don’t have to wear it or anything. I just thought you might...”
Park cleared his throat, clearly reaching for some kind of prepared speech. “I just wanted to say that whatever we call each other doesn’t matter to me. Pack, family, mate, husband, alpha, partner, friend—you’re all of those to me and everything else too.”
Park’s gaze rose to meet Cooper’s. “And I love you more than words can even really say.”
Cooper’s throat felt painfully tight. He picked up the ring and rolled it in his fingers. So pleasingly heavy and smooth. “But I don’t have anything for you,” he said softly. “I didn’t think you could wear rings.”
“Oh, no, I...” Gently he took the other sock out of Cooper’s hands and pulled out a very long chain of the same muted, brassy-gold color as the ring that hung from it.
“Lots of us wear necklaces,” Park continued, sounding incredibly nervous now. “It’s just a matter of getting the right length. I’ve been putting it on when I shift to test it out and this one works fi—”
Cooper swallowed the rest of the word, unable to resist kissing Park any longer. Then greedily licked into his mouth for any other sweet things he’d planned to say.
Park kissed him back almost desperately, and when he reached up to pull him closer, chain still dangling in his hand, Cooper felt the metal brush his neck.
He pulled back from the kiss, and Park made a small disappointed sound that cut off when Cooper carefully tugged the necklace out of Park’s hands.
“Can I put it on you now?” he murmured, fingering the chain.
Park blinked, surprised, but nodded. Wide enough to fit around a wolf’s throat, Cooper didn’t need to unlatch it to put the necklace carefully on Park. It fell lower than most jewelry did—below his sternum.
“Does it look okay?” Park asked, unsure.
Cooper realized he was just sitting there and staring. He nodded, feeling a little overwhelmed, and slowly put his own ring on. A tremor ran subtly through his body. Like the whole earth had just heaved a sigh of satisfaction and he was the only one who could feel it.
“Pretty,” Park said. “It looks like it fits. How does it feel?” It was fairly obvious he wasn’t going through the same emotional earthquake that Cooper was. It just didn’t have the same significance for him. Wasn’t a thing he’d been raised to see as a symbol of commitment, union. He’d simply wanted to do something nice for Cooper.
“Is that—are you getting teary?” Park asked, shocked. “I didn’t even wrap it nice.”
“I told you it’s not about the wrapping,” Cooper said, unbuckling his seat belt. “I like to win.” He kissed Park again. Then murmured against his lips, “Your love is the most important thing I’ve ever won.”
Park kissed him back, pouring sentiments of yes, that, and this too into his touch. He unbuckled his seat belt as well, only pulling back long enough to slip it off his arm, and then with one hand on Cooper’s waist and the other in his hair, pulled him into an even deeper kiss.
Cooper couldn’t resist running his fingers over Park’s chest until he found the ring and squeezed it in his hand. The motion made the chain tug on Park’s neck a bit, and he growled into Cooper’s mouth, then dragged his lips down to work on Cooper’s throat, biting and sucking.
Cooper just panted, staring up at the ceiling for a minute. He felt raw. From the ring, from Park’s words, from the whole fucking day.
“Oliver,” Cooper murmured, reaching down to squeeze Park’s hard cock through his pants. “I need you.”
Park groaned, pulling back. “We’re almost home. I’ll—”
“No,” Cooper said. “Please. Here. I don’t—”
How could he explain the urgency, the desperation he felt? The intense, unexpected joy of the rings just on the heels of the violating horror of seeing the photos of him, Park, their home? The need to feel in control of his own body. The need to do exactly what he would have done on any other day, without a second thought, without shame.
“I don’t want to wait” was all Cooper could say. “You’ll hear if someone’s coming.” He bit Park’s ear lightly and squeezed him again, feeling the solid heft of him, the way he twitched in Cooper’s hand. “Please let me make you feel good. Let me thank you for my pretty present.”
Park exhaled shakily and undid his own pants, pulling them down to reveal his dick bulging in the confines of his boxers. “All right, get your mouth open.”
Cooper groaned and immediately slid down to start sucking on Park through the fabric, getting it so wet that soon he could trace the ridges and lines of him with his tongue. Eventually, Park wound his fingers in Cooper’s hair and pulled him away while his other hand worked his underwear down and let his dick spring free.
Cooper strained toward it, but Park held him back. “You’ve got to earn it first,” Park said.
He made Cooper watch while he started to stroke himself, squeeze, brush his thumb over the tip, collecting any drip. Then Park held the thumb to Cooper’s lips and let him lick it clean, before abruptly pulling Cooper all the way up to his mouth for a kiss so he could taste himself.
Cooper reached between them to take over where Park had left off. Jacking him off slow and teasing until Park couldn’t focus on kissing anymore. His head fell back against the headrest, and Cooper just watched the play of pleasure on his face when he twisted his hand here or swiped his thumb there until Park was thrusting up into his fist.
“When we get home,” Cooper murmured, speeding up his strokes, “I want you to fuck me. I want to feel that ring pressed against my back while you bend me over and make me take you.”
Park’s hand tightened in Cooper’s hair.
“I want you to make me wait on my knees on the floor by your feet until you’re ready to have me again.”
Park snarled, hand tightening in Cooper’s hair, and pulled his head down. He went eagerly, freeing his own dick as he went. He sucked Park off sloppily, groaning and whimpering and choking—the obscene sounds extra loud in the closed space of the car. Park’s hand was just resting lightly on his head, so Cooper reached up and pushed it suggestively. Park caught his wrist and rubbed at the wedding ring, as if surprised to see it. Then, still clutching Cooper’s fingers, he used the heel of his hand to push Cooper all the way down and hold him there as he thrust a couple of times and then started to come in his throat.
Cooper jerked instinctively, the panicked flare of not being able to breathe that disappeared as quickly as it had come, replaced by a throbbing arousal, before Park yanked him back off and finished on his tongue.
They stayed like that for a moment, both breathing heavily, until Park eased him back into his own seat. Cooper just sat there with his arms limp by his sides, chest still heaving, dick straining painfully up toward his belly.
Park took it all in, then said, “Touch yourself.” Cooper obediently reached for his cock, but Park stopped him. “No. The other one.”
Cooper froze, then tentatively switched to his non-dominant hand. It felt strange, of course, but the way Park’s eyes flared as he watched Cooper’s ringed finger stroke up and down his hard, heated flesh more than made up for it. Paired with the well-used feeling in his throat and the taste of Park on his lips, he soon found himself teetering on the agonizing, aching edge, clumsy grip be damned. “Oliver,” Cooper whispered with longing, reverence. This was as close to prayer as he got. “Oliver, I—”
Park’s gaze flicked up to meet his and he looked...wonderstruck. Like the sight of his ring, proud and bright on Cooper’s finger, was astonishing. Like the sound of his name quivering and cracked in half with Cooper’s
need was precious. Park reached to cup his face in his palm, thumb tracing over swollen lips, then trailed down Cooper’s body to cover the hand wrapped around his dick with his own.
Park leaned closer, murmuring, “Mine,” and Cooper came. Arching into their tangled hands, feeling both released and bound tighter to Park than he ever had before.
When Cooper’s high faded, he focused on Park, who smiled softly. “I think perhaps I’m beginning to see the appeal of these after all,” he said, rolling the ring on Cooper’s finger.
“Mmm, just wait ’til I teach you the joys of themed anniversaries. Year three is going to knock your socks off,” Cooper said, and Park laughed.
They took their time cleaning up, straightening themselves out, and Park had just started the car when there was a buzzing sound. Park slid his phone out of his pocket, and when Cooper reflexively glanced down, he saw Eli’s name.
“Where are you?” Park asked immediately upon picking up. He frowned, then put it on speaker. “Say that again.”
“I need help,” Eli said, voice ringing out tinny and hollow in the little room. There was a pause. “Something bad happened.” He was speaking in a very slow monotone and hesitating before each sentence.
“Where are you?” Park repeated. “What’s wrong?”
“He—” Pause. “He wants to talk,” Eli said. Pause. “Come to the zoo’s medical bay. By the Andean bears.”
“Who?” Park asked urgently. “Eli, is Neil Gerhart there with you?”
Pause. “Yes. He’s here.” Pause. “You and Cooper have to come in the next half hour.” Pause. “Or I’ll be the next—” Pause. “—bad little wolf punished—” Pause. “—for betraying you—” Eli’s voice shook for the first time. “—and telling the stupid—” Pause. “WIP where to find Arthur.” Pause. “Don’t tell anyone else. You know I—” Pause. “—still have plenty of friends in the Bureau and I will find out.” Pause. “Half an hour now. Don’t be late.”
Pause. Then Eli said in a rush, “Oliver, don’t—”
The line went dead.
* * *
The zoo was just closing and the sun nearly set when Cooper and Park arrived. It was still drizzling out. That light, inconsistent misting of raindrops that might have come from the sky or had merely fallen from the swaying trees. Wind blew shockingly bright orangey-red leaves around their ankles as they walked down the paths, and the color reminded Cooper of the coral roses.
Park was looking around, trying to catch any sign of a threat. The problem was, there were too many sounds. Too many smells. The zoo was a sensory overload even for a human; for a wolf, it must have been a nightmare.
The door they’d taken that first day when searching for James Finnigan with Sophie was cracked open with a brick. Cooper entered first with his weapon drawn. The long hallway with the cages appeared to be empty, but it was very dark and smelled faintly of ammonia. Probably not so faintly to Park, who coughed and had to blow air out of his nose a few times as if it burned his airways.
It took a lot longer to travel down the hall than it had last time, now with the need to check each cage. They were all empty. Even the last one where the bear had previously been kept.
Finally, Cooper and Park reached the large double bay doors at the end of the hall. It was eerily silent. Cooper looked at Park and realized the ring was still hanging out. He tucked it safely inside Park’s shirt, letting his palm rest over it for a moment. Feeling the steady, sure beat of his heart. Then he nodded to show he was ready.
“On the count of three,” Park murmured. “One, two—”
They burst through the double doors, quickly scanning the room. It too was dark, lit only by the sporadic glow of a computer monitor’s screensaver across the space. This was the medical bay, all right. The ammonia smelled stronger in here, and even Cooper’s eyes were watering. The hum of the samples fridge and buzz of the fluorescent lights made the room feel claustrophobic, though it was actually quite large and had several closed doors leading to the lab, containment area, and front of the building.
There was a large metal table in the center of the room with a figure lying on it, covered in a light blue sheet. Unmoving.
Park made a pained sound.
Eli. Please, no...
Park seemed frozen, staring at the figure on the table. So Cooper walked forward, took a deep breath, and pulled back the sheet.
He gasped and stumbled back, knocking the body’s arm slightly as he recoiled. It fell and hung limply over the edge of the table.
Neil Gerhart lay on his side, dressed in a very sleek tuxedo, violet lips slack, eyes staring straight at Cooper, filmed over and dry and long dead.
On the other side of the room, another set of doors opened, and Eli stepped into the room.
“Eli, what—what the hell is going on?” Park asked.
“I’m sorry,” Eli said. His voice cracked. “Just don’t shift, don’t shift, don’t—”
The sprinklers turned on over their heads, and Cooper jumped as frigid water hit the top of his head and started dripping down his face and neck. He blinked and swiped hurriedly at it, trying to keep his sight clear, and looked at Park, who was doing the same.
But no matter how many times he wiped away water, his vision kept getting blurrier. It was like he was wearing glasses, straining to see through the gathering fog.
Cooper took a step forward, wanting to be nearer Park, and his knee bent dramatically, sinking toward the floor, like stepping into quicksand. How was there quicksand in here?
“Don’t shift, don’t shift—” Eli’s voice was yelling. At least Cooper thought it was Eli. It sounded strange. Just like...a bunch of noises mashed together. Which is what all words were, Cooper realized. Just...noises that sound different than they look.
That was when Cooper realized he might be drugged. He tried to move his other foot, but his legs felt too far apart to get any leverage one way or another, and he just sat down instead.
A pair of pants was walking toward him. Cooper looked up, and above the pants he saw an enormous bug’s head with bulging dark eyes and a stumpy proboscis, before the fog sank right through his corneas and into his mind, and the blackness took over.
Chapter Twelve
When Cooper woke up, his shoulders and back ached, and his fingers were numb.
“Mmm,” he mumbled, rolling his stiff neck. Whatever his head was resting on moved with him, and he realized he was sitting upright, leaning against something.
“Cooper?” Park asked. “Are you awake?”
“Mmm,” he said, deciding Park could interpret that how he wished and Cooper could still claim plausible deniability in case he changed his mind and went back to sleep.
He felt horrible. Like being a teenager again and waking up after twelve hours of painful, unconscious growing—feeling all at the same time like he’d slept too little, too much and like he wasn’t waking up in his own body at all but rather some heavy, tender thing.
“Cooper, I need you to wake up.” Park spoke again, and the pain in his voice forced Cooper to reach deep within himself and focus. Park needed him.
He opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was Eli.
Eli, sitting on the cement floor of a cage, head tilted back against the fencing, watching him. Expressionless. Not like when Park was hiding his emotions, but like he’d...given up.
Cooper tried to move and immediately felt pain in his wrists, like they were bound by something. That finally snapped him the rest of the way into his senses.
He was sitting upright on the floor as well, his ass fully numb against the cold cement, which somehow just made the small of his back feel like it had taken over Atlas’s job and had absolutely lied on the résumé. He was leaning up against Park’s warm, solid much sturdier-seeming back, which was almost nice except for the fact that their wrists seemed to be cuffed together
between them. They felt thicker than handcuffs. Heavier. Some kind of animal restraints, he’d guess, based on the whole zoo thing.
Cooper looked around as best he could and realized Eli wasn’t the only one in a cage. He and Park were in the one the bear had once occupied, Eli on the other side of the fence with the howdy door between them.
“We’re still in the same building,” Park said. “I think it’s been about four hours.”
“When did you wake up?” Cooper asked, eyeing Eli, who just stared back, unsmiling.
Park paused. “Only a couple of minutes ago.”
Cooper felt surprised by that. Werewolves’ higher metabolism usually meant they processed things like food, alcohol, and other drugs a lot quicker. But Park had barely regained consciousness before Cooper had.
He tried moving backward, piecing together what had happened. It was rather dark in the cages, only lit by moonlight that filtered in from the tiny, high up barred window along the outside wall. It must be fully night then, and unlikely anyone was going to come wandering by. Which was probably the point of keeping them tied up here waiting.
He thought of the person walking up to him just before losing consciousness. Not an enormous bug-man but someone wearing a gas mask staring down at him. Protecting themselves from the mist that had come out of the sprinklers, just after they’d seen Eli watching them from the doorway and Neil on the...
Cooper exhaled shakily while regret, sadness, and anger flipped over in his stomach like a stone dislodged by the tide and resettled heavily somewhere so deep within he didn’t think he’d be able to budge it again for a long time. Foolish to feel so viscerally because of a man he’d only just this morning despised. But loss was too complex a thing to always feel what you were supposed to feel.
Cry Wolf Page 24