Every once and a while, Derrick would look up from where ever he was and search for him. There'd be a flash of worry and then their eyes would meet, and there would be a relief, a small smile, and a wave and then Derrick would continue his mission of working the crowd. Each time he did that Christian felt punched by Derrick's utter perfection. His strong jaw, full lips that broke easily into a smile just for him. Each look worked him up more and more.
When someone sat next to him, Christian didn't welcome the distraction. When he looked over at who it was, he welcomed it even less.
"Hi there," Bridgette said looking and sounding like a country music superstar. "You are quite a devoted PR rep. The way you watch him, are you taking notes?"
Christian shifted in his seat. He didn't have a toolset for this sort of interaction, no protocol. "I should… go." Christian made to stand, but Bridgette stopped him with a palm on his arm. Her grip was surprisingly strong for such a small body, but then she was a shifter. He wondered who would win if they arm wrestled. Wouldn't that be a great way to solve this little problem? Whoever won, got Derrick.
Bridgette squeezed, and Christian wasn't sure he would win.
"Don't you think you at least owe me a conversation? You are fucking my fiance after all."
No. No, no, no. Christian did not want this talk. He was not that type of person, not the type she was implying he was. It was a misunderstanding.
Bridgette continued. "I can understand when you didn't know. But you must not feel any shame at all. You met me and still stuck around. They must make 'em different on the west coast."
She let go of his arm, but it didn't matter. His body felt heavier than a bag of rocks as if the guilt was literally crushing him. "I tried to go," he muttered, eyes downcast.
Her eyebrows shot up. "You did? What happened?"
Christian couldn't say. He'd tried to go before he'd even known about her but Derrick always had an excuse, a plea to keep him around. It didn't help that Christian never really wanted to go, that the thought of walking away from him felt like it would tear up his insides.
"Ohhhh, I see," she whispered, her eyes narrowing, calculating.
Christian took a sip and anger coursed through him almost immediately. "Why are you so eager to marry a man who doesn't want you?" he asked, not even having his usual presence of mind to feel bad about it.
She straightened. "Our marriage will end hundreds of years of violence. Our union will unite not just our families but our packs. Together, we will become invincible. How will the world benefit by you fucking him?" All of her sugar sweetness was gone, replaced by an angry wolf with sharp teeth. "I shouldn't be too hard on you, though. You're just a human."
"What the hell kind of speciesest bullshit is that?"
The bubblegum tone was back. "Oh no, I don't think you are inferior to me, but you are weaker. Definitely weaker than Derrick. He clearly wants you here. So you're here. Maybe you haven't realized it yet, but you don't have a choice in the matter."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
She shrugged her shoulders as if she didn't have a care in the world. "Then go. See if Derrick lets you. My money is on no."
Christian wanted to roll his eyes. "I know what you are doing."
"You're right. I don't want you here and would benefit greatly if you left. But I also know that if our spots were reversed and I was the one in prison, I'd at least want to know it."
Christian sat up abruptly. He downed the rest of his drink in one gulp. "Excuse me," he said briskly, walking out of the ballroom. He avoided catching Derrick's gaze, knowing if he did, he'd rethink his next move. Christian wasn't letting Bridgette get in his head as much as he realized that a few days away from the mansion could help. Derrick had to announce the engagement tonight. Christian knew in his heart of hearts that Derrick didn't want him around for that. And Christian didn't want to see it. There would be things to do after the announcement most likely.
A few days was what they all needed. Christian went up to his room and changed. The party went on below him, but that party never wanted him there. Christian packed a bag with a handful of clothes and wrote a quick note--he hadn't replaced his cell phone and didn't trust texts anyhow—to let Derrick know not to worry, where he was going and when he would be back.
As much as he didn't want to admit it, Bridgette had dug her shiny little claws into his brain. He didn't want to leave Derrick, but a part of him needed to know that he could. Christian took the back way out of the mansion, but couldn't miss the booming sound of Derrick's father's voice when he told the room he had a special announcement. Perfect timing. Christian so did not want to be there for that.
Christian had never experienced a darkness that was so black. That sounded dumb, but up until now, he'd lived in the city where there was always a street light, porch light or glare of someone's television shining through their window.
Out here, there was nothing.
Except for creepy animal noises and the occasional rustle of something, probably menacing, in the brush.
Christian started to rethink his plan. He had little money, no phone to call a taxi. He'd have to get off the estate to reach a pay phone, and that required him to either scale a fence or suddenly know the gate code. No one had bothered to tell him the gate code.
In his mind, Bridgette taunted him. If I was in prison, I'd at least want to know it.
He readjusted his bag. He wasn't locked in, not in the imprisoned sense of the word. The pack and Robichaud family was just safer this way.
From the sounds of it, they had had a reason to want to be safe. Right now, Derrick would be announcing his engagement to that reason.
Christian quickened his pace. This would be good for him. A couple of days with fresh air to breathe. He ignored his rock hard erection, and the way is skin felt oversensitized. Each step he took away from the Robichaud mansion, away from Derrick, agitated him even more. All the better reason to take a break. This level of attraction, of need—it wasn't normal. It couldn't be healthy.
He'd been walking for what felt like hours, but couldn't have been much more than one when he heard a piercingly loud, mournful howl in the not too distant. A single wolf's howl.
Out of nowhere, he began to run. His lust fueled a panic that had started as an unreasonable reaction to the wolf's howl but transformed into a chaotic fear. Christian ran hard. His heart was beating wildly, his breath coming fast. His legs stretched as his feet pounded against the ground. At some point, he'd stumbled off the gravel drive and now ran through the forest. He leaped over fallen logs and ran through brush that tore at him. All the while, he told himself to stop, that nothing was chasing him.
A second howl spurred him forward, faster. He had to be moments from reaching a gate or at least a fence. He'd feel better once he came across something concrete and manmade because the thing he imagined chasing him was something out of nightmares and make-believe. Or, maybe Christian would just feel better being off of Robichaud land. Maybe he would call Sorell and see if he'd left his pack yet if he'd made it to Finn's. He could ask whether Sorell's friend had decided to join him.
He couldn't keep up the sprinting speed forever and slowed to a jog. This, he could do for hours. At least, he had been able to. The way his muscles already screamed told Christian that he'd let his cardio slide. He wasn't sure how he'd done that since he worked out now more than ever. He'd had to to keep his sexual urges at bay.
His foot caught on a branch, and he toppled forward. Unable to save himself, he settled for breaking his fall. He hit the soft ground, squishier and warmer than it would have been back home. That didn't make it hurt less. He lay on the forest floor for an extra moment, gathering his mind, taking a mental inventory of the state of his limbs. He hadn't twisted anything, maybe just some bruises.
A branch snapped somewhere near him, and he stopped breathing. He strained to hear more and was rewarded by another snap.
"Derrick?" His voice was weak to his
ears.
A low growl responded.
Christian didn't think. He reacted. Jumping to his feet, he sprinted away from the growl. He fell again, twisting his ankle this time, but couldn't stop, not while imagining the beast that hunted him. He got back to his feet, slower now with his injury. He ran into a prickly bush, one of the branches scratched his cheek. In the back of his mind he knew that if he stopped for long enough to think about what was happening, he'd realize most of the danger was in his head. His system flooded with adrenaline, and he could only react.
Looking behind him for whatever was responsible for the growl, he didn't see the brick wall looming ahead. It felt like a brick wall anyway. But brick walls didn't have iron arms that wrapped him in warmth and a scent that he'd come to associate with safety and pleasure.
"You ran from me," Derrick said, sounding distant, not like himself.
He was absolutely naked, breathing quickly.
"I left a note," Christian squeaked, clinging to his biceps.
Derrick buried his nose in the crook of Christian's neck, inhaling his scent. He touched Christian, his palms running all over his body. His movements weren't normal but feral, primal.
"You hurt yourself," he said in that same far-off tone. "And you ran from me."
"Derrick…" Christian said, an edge of fear in his voice.
"Why?" Anger, sadness, suspicion all of that rang true in that one word. Derrick growled, abruptly turning Christian around. He gathered both of Christian's wrists in one of his hands and held them over his head, pressing them against the trunk of a tree.
Instantly, Christian's body responded. His cock lengthened, hardened. His puckered hole ached to be filled. Even his skin felt restless, needing to be grabbed, kissed, and bitten. Derrick never stopped moving behind him. With his arms up, Christian couldn't move as Derrick rubbed against his backside with his naked form. A ripping, tearing sound hit his ears, and Christian hissed. Cold air brushed against his skin. Derrick had used his longer claws to cut through the fabric of his pants and boxers. Christian's cock sprung free, slapping against his stomach.
Derrick said nothing. He kept Christian bound and moved to the space behind him. Christian curved his spine, sticking his ass out. A sharp crack and stinging pain told Christian he'd been spanked. He'd barely the time to decide how he felt about it before Derrick moved into position, lining his cock head with Christian's tight entrance. "You're mine," he growled and then slid all the way in.
Derrick hadn't waited for his magic cum to lube up his hole and even though Christian could already feel it begin to work its magic inside of him, soothing the nerves that lined him, it still stung. Christian wailed, his head back, his lips facing the moon.
This mating felt different than all of the other times. He wasn't sure how much of Derrick was cognizant and how much of him right now was wild animal instinct. This was sex at its most primitive, a claiming, an assertion of power. Christian should have hated it. He should have fought it. His body wouldn't allow him to.
His greedy ass strained back, eager to meet Derrick's brutal thrusts. Skin slapped skin. Christian's cock smacked against his lower abdominals with every forward thrust. Christian made noises he'd never heard himself make as he stood, stretched tall and confined at his wrists while his mate plundered his body.
Derrick's movements became more frantic. His cock swelled, and he stopped thrusting, locked deep inside. He released Christian's hands and leaned over, licking his neck before biting. Christian exploded, like always. But instead of individual orgasms, it was one, continuous release of pleasure that lasted until he felt like he couldn't breathe--like he didn't want to if breathing would stop the feeling.
He was dimly aware of being lifted, some time later, cradled against a warm chest. He stirred. Something important nagged his mind. "I left you a note," he said.
"I saw it," Derrick replied, the first entirely coherent thing he'd heard him say since meeting in the woods.
There was a finality to his words, one that bound Christian's heart. "You promised, Derrick. You said I could go whenever I wanted."
Derrick didn't try to skirt around it or mince his words. He tightened his hold on Christian as he carried him over the Robichaud terrain. "I can't, Christian. I won't let you go."
Chapter 16
Derrick held Christian tightly to his chest, skin against skin. Christian slept peacefully in his arms. Even after the mating, Derrick was still edgy and anxious. It was still better than the total panic that had consumed him when he finally realized Christian had lied to him and had left the mansion. He'd noticed Christian at the bar with Bridgette next to him and had stopped the conversation he'd been in the middle of to make his way over. His father had waylaid him briefly with the Babineaux alpha in tow, but that had only taken minutes. By the time his father had told the room there was a special announcement to make, Derrick had known Christian was no longer in the ballroom.
Derrick had left immediately. He would have to worry about the repercussions of that later.
Now, he was of one mind. Get Christian safe and secluded away from anything that could hurt him or convince him to leave again. The Robichaud estate had a natural border, the shores of the bayou. Spotted along the banks there were fishermen shacks meant to give shelter to a fisherman or hunter should they find themselves stuck in the wilderness for longer than they'd planned.
Once his head had cleared long enough for him to make a plan, he'd thought of the shack. They were for fishermen in a tight spot and that's what he was in. Christian clearly wasn't safe at the mansion. What had happened with Dante happened because Christian was unclaimed and yet—Derrick winced at the term even when only thinking it—in heat. Until Derrick could claim him officially, Christian was not safe from Robichaud shifters, rival shifters and even himself.
At the mansion, when it had become clear that Christian had gone from him, Derrick had reaffirmed some things that had been percolating in his mind. Christian was his mate. As truly as Derrick knew that he also knew he didn't deserve Christian.
Not yet.
He would deserve Christian one day. The idea that Christian wouldn't be around when that day finally arrived, filled him with fear and had fueled his and his wolf's actions that night. Christian had been fine when he'd left him at the bar to mix with the pack. It had taken Bridgette five minutes to get in his head. He'd promised to take care of Christian, to keep him out from under other people's feet.
He'd explain all of this to his mate, and he would understand. Because Christian was a reasonable, smart man.
Christian stirred. "Where are you taking me?" he asked sleepily. "The mansion is," he picked up his sleepy head. "That way I think."
It wasn't. It was the opposite direction from where Christian had nodded, but he was right in noticing that they were not going in the direction of the mansion. He grunted and repositioned Christian.
"Derrick, you fucking neanderthal, tell me where you are taking me," reasonable Christian said.
"Somewhere safe," Derrick said. It was still an effort to speak like a normal human and not to devolve into growls and grunts.
"Safe for you or for me?" asked too-smart-Christian.
"You made me promise to pick you up whenever you were being walked all over. I don't know what she said, but she had to have been walking all over you."
Christian didn't say anything for so long Derrick didn't think he would respond. "She didn't say anything that didn't end up being true."
"Like what?"
"Like you are keeping me prisoner."
"That's bullshit," Derrick snarled.
"Really? I just tried to leave for a few days, and you hunted me down in the woods, accosted me, and are now carrying me to a second location. Shit, they always say never to go to the second location."
"You were—I already told you, I can't. I mean. I don't think I can physically let you walk away from us." Derrick remembered back to those times on the bus when he'd worried his possessiv
eness would turn dark. Was this then? It couldn't be. Keeping Christian safe and secluded felt so damn right.
Christian's voice softened. "I wasn't walking away from us, Derrick. I was just leaving for a few days. To clear my head."
"To clear your head of me," he accused.
They had finally reached the shack. A small house by anyone's account. He punched the code into the keypad, and the lock beeped open. It had one room, a large living area, a kitchen and a bathroom. Cozy. A fully stocked freezer and pantry full of dry goods, wood stacked by the fireplace—all the amenities you would need to be comfortable for at least a week.
He set the still-naked Christian down on the brown leather couch and went to the back to find them both some clothes to wear. Christian wasn't done fighting, though. He followed close behind Derrick as he set about putting on a new shirt and pants. He handed Christian clothes to wear, but he just clutched them to his front. "So what if I was trying to clear my head of you? If we are meant to be, I would come back."
Derrick turned to face him. "That's why. What you just said is why. If. If we are meant to be. We are. You're my mate. That's it."
"How are you so sure of something you didn't know existed two weeks ago?" Christian said, sounding exasperated.
"Can't you feel it?" Derrick closed his eyes and sensed the bond between them. Like a string that bound them together. Right now, that string was tenuous. He wanted an unbreakable chain, made of iron and plated with steel.
He went to the kitchen, his back to Christian. Once the door closed, it would not open without a code, unless an emergency alarm was triggered, and then all exits were rigged to swing open automatically. As long as Derrick was the only one there, Christian was safe.
Wolf's Mate Mpreg Romance Box Set Page 28