by Marcy Jacks
The Werewolves of Willow Lake 2
Capturing the Wolf God’s Attention
Dillon Rafferty has a good thing going with his writing. He makes enough to be his own boss, and he takes orders from no one but his readers. Lately, however, he's been in need of some inspiration, so he goes to his family’s isolated cabin near Willow Lake where he can get some alone time and some work done.
He never thought he would meet Rowan, a gorgeous man, who is not only a fan of Dillon's work, but has him so enthralled that he's willing to give up his valuable writing time just for the chance of being with the other man.
But Rowan is an ancient werewolf with incredible powers, and there are hunters who are out to get him, his brothers, and anyone Rowan might have an interest in. That includes Dillon, now, and when Dillon’s ex, a werewolf hunter, shows up and realizes what Rowan is, that only spells immediate trouble for both of them.
Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary, Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves
Length: 35,799 words
CAPTURING THE WOLF GOD’S ATTENTION
The Werewolves of Willow Lake 2
Marcy Jacks
EVERLASTING CLASSIC
MANLOVE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Everlasting Classic ManLove
CAPTURING THE WOLF GOD’S ATTENTION
Copyright © 2013 by Marcy Jacks
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-885-1
First E-book Publication: December 2013
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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www.SirenPublishing.com
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
About the Author
CAPTURING THE WOLF GOD’S ATTENTION
The Werewolves of Willow Lake 2
MARCY JACKS
Copyright © 2013
Chapter One
Dillon Rafferty looked up from his notebook. He didn’t know why, or what exactly it was that had drawn his attention away from his work, but there had been something that made him look up, and when he did, he dropped his pen and barely heard it clatter on the black-and-white tiled floor.
A man had just walked into the diner. The glass doors were still shutting behind him as he scoped the place out and seated himself at the table that was right next to Dillon’s booth.
He had blond hair that was just long enough to be tied back, like out of one of those old-fashioned historical romance novels his mom and sister liked. He had broad shoulders, high cheekbones, and gold eyes. The man looked like he spent a lot of time at the gym, that was for sure. Did this small town even have a gym?
Dillon stared too long, like the uncharismatic fool that he was, and the man frowned as he realized he was being watched, and he looked up at Dillon.
Their eyes met, and the man’s nose flared.
Fuck. What if he wasn’t like that? Or what if he was and he was just in the closet or something? A man never knew with these small towns if there would be trouble like this.
Dillon turned away from the man, and he tried to forget how amazingly the highlights in the guy’s hair captured the light, unlike his own blond hair, which was so dark it could barely be called that at all.
He buried his face in his notebook, and he tried to read the names and descriptions of the characters he’d just thought up, but he could barely focus on each individual letter of each word as his heart hammered.
“Do you need this?”
Dillon jumped and damn near dropped his notebook. He stared up at the man he’d just been ogling, who was now very close to him, staring at him, and holding Dillon’s pen in his fine looking fingers.
“Oh,” Dillon said, and he’d never felt this flustered in his entire life. Not even when he was first willing to admit that he was gay and had a crush on the high school jock asshole. “Yeah, thanks,” he said, and he reached for the pen.
Of course, his fingers were bound to brush against the man’s skin, and when they did, there was a shock.
Dillon wasn’t about to do something as cheesy as hold his hand in place and stare at the other guy, all the while stuck in his fantasy world where he’d touched the other man however briefly. He wrote about those sorts of reactions. He didn’t have them himself.
For that, he grabbed his pen and yanked his hand away, maybe a little too fast, because the man’s brows lifted at the reaction.
“Sorry, it’s not you,” Dillon said.
“Don’t like to be touched?” the man asked. He had an accent that Dillon couldn�
�t place. It wasn’t thick, by any means, but it was something.
Yeah, he liked being touched all right, but he didn’t like getting his ass kicked because he was coming on too hard.
Dillon couldn’t think of anything to say, though, so he was stuck just sitting there, acting like an idiot as he struggled.
It was so much easier to write it out. When his characters were in situations like this, Dillon had all the time in the world to think up the smart remarks or sexy responses that weren’t overly snarky. There was a fine line between sassy and bitchy.
“Thanks for the pen,” Dillon said, and that was about when he felt like a complete fool.
Christ, he needed to get his check and get the hell out of here.
The best he could do was sink into his seat and try to hide his face in his notebook.
He thought he was home free, and that in a couple of minutes he could get out of here and pretend like this whole thing had never happened. He didn’t actually live in this small town, so it wasn’t like he was ever going to see this man again, right?
His heart jumped when the man sat down in the opposite booth as him, and Dillon had to look up.
“My name is Rowan, by the way,” he said, and he reached his hand across the table. “You are Dillon Rafferty?”
Dillon’s eyes bulged. “How did you…?”
“Your name is on the front of all of your notebooks,” Rowan said.
Dillon looked down at them, and now he really felt like an idiot. “Oh.”
Rowan laughed. “Are you going to shake my hand? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Dillon reached across and grabbed on to the man’s hand, quickly before he could lose his nerve.
That feeling was back again. It was that same shock as their flesh touched, and he had to fight to keep himself from pulling back. He squeezed the man’s hand tight, just to show Rowan that he wasn’t some pathetic loser or something.
“Nice to meet you,” Dillon said.
“You as well. It’s not every day I get to meet my favorite author.”
Dillon damn near dropped the guy’s hand. He couldn’t believe it. “You…I’m sorry. People don’t usually recognize my name.”
“No? They should. I adore your work. I think it’s amazing we happened to meet, don’t you?” Rowan reached into the messenger bag that he had at his hip, and he pulled out two of Dillon’s books.
Dillon could hardly believe it, and he laughed. He’d never met a fan like this before. Fan mail from time to time, sure, but not like this. “I don’t believe it,” he said, staring at the titles.
“Neither do I, my mate.”
Chapter Two
“What? What did you say?”
What an incredibly stupid thing for Rowan to have said. He could hardly believe that those words had left his mouth, especially when he was speaking to a man who was very clearly human, and would likely not want anything to do with him should the man discover what Rowan really was.
Still, Rowan did not survive as many years as he had, even before being put into his long sleep, by never learning some deception. He put a smile on his face, as though nothing was amiss at all. “I said mate.”
“Mate?” Dillon asked.
“Yes? Although, I think I understand how you would not like to be called that. We barely know each other and you do seem a little put-off.”
Rowan had to put some confusion that he didn’t feel into his own voice just to make this work.
Thankfully, it did. “Oh!” Dillon said. “You mean mate, as in, friends?”
“Yes, of course,” Rowan said, playing along with what Dillon’s mind had logically come to, and then laughing with the man.
“I thought you meant…” Dillon trailed off and then waved his hand, as though it was of no consequence. “That was stupid. Never mind,” he said.
“It’s all forgotten,” Rowan replied. “I have been in this place for the last…well, it’s been a little over a year now,” he replied, shocked that so much time had passed him by in what felt like the blink of an eye. “But I would have noticed if my favorite author were living here.”
The man blushed. Dillon was quite handsome when he blushed. Otherwise he seemed a little too pale, as though he and the sun weren’t exactly well aquatinted with each other.
“That’s nice of you to say. Like I said, I don’t meet that many fans face-to-face like this. If I could, I’d like to ask that you don’t tell anyone else about what I do for a living. Some people get uncomfortable, you know?”
Rowan could understand. There were times and places that he’d lived in the old days where homosexuality was punishable by death. Other places were much more tolerant so long as the man or woman in question kept quiet about it, produced children, and married someone of the opposite sex like they were supposed to.
Well, to be fair, there were still places like that which existed in this new world as well, and just because the law stated that a man could not be harassed or killed because of their sexual needs, did not mean they were always protected. People broke the law in all times, after all. “I understand. No one will know that you do not wish it. But my family knows I read your work, I don’t believe you would have anything to fear from them, should I wish to brag about the fact that I’ve met you?”
“I’m not that great an author that you should be bragging about me,” Dillon replied, and he smiled before taking a sip of the dark, fuzzy liquid that was in his glass.
“Not brag about meeting a handsome man? Who is also the reason why I’m constantly up at night with the lamp on? Why not?”
Dillon was blushing again, and Rowan loved that he was the one who was putting that color on his mate’s cheeks.
The man was not overly skinny, he did have some meat on him, but he was still a tad lanky. He looked like he spent too much time writing and not enough time eating. His pale blue eyes were lovely, however.
“That’s…very nice for you to say,” Dillon replied.
“You are not used to having men flirt with you, are you?” Rowan replied, which was also wonderful. He wondered if his mate was a virgin, and then quickly decided that it didn’t matter how many men had come before Rowan.
“Not by guys who look like you,” Dillon said.
“Like me?”
“You know,” Dillon replied, and then he stared at Rowan rather helplessly. “Don’t make me say it.”
Rowan wanted to make him say it. “Say what?”
“That you’re gorgeous. A guy like you is clearly out of my league.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one to decide who is in my league?” Rowan asked.
Dillon seemed to think about that, and then he nodded. “That’s fair enough, I guess.”
A server finally arrived at the table after noticing that Dillon was no longer alone. “Oh, hi, Rowan!” Warren said. Warren was a nice omega, and Rowan figured the man must have been busy in the kitchen with some task to have left the front forgotten about. Not like there were many patrons in the diner on this Sunday afternoon.
“Hello, Warren. I would like to try your chef’s soup for the day, with bread, if possible.”
“No problem,” Warren said, and he took down the rest of Rowan’s order with a smile.
“Put his bill with mine as well, if you please.”
Dillon blinked his eyes wide. “What? No, I couldn’t do that.”
“I insist,” Rowan said. He was aware that the dynamics between mates, as well as even human married couples, were much different now than they’d used to be, but he wanted to provide at least one meal for the man. That was what people did when they were on dates.
He thought so anyway.
Rowan looked back up at Warren and smiled. “Will that be all right?”
Warren seemed to understand that something was happening here. The man was mated to one of the alphas in Roarke’s pack. Damian, Rowan believed his name was, so Warren knew all about stubborn alphas, and he would also recognize the signs tha
t came with being mated to one.
“Sure thing,” Warren said, and he wrote something else down on his pad before rushing off.
Dillon looked very much like he wanted to stop the man, but he did no such thing. He watched as Warren rushed back to the kitchen with something of a flabbergasted look on his face. “I have money, you didn’t need to do that.”
“I have no doubt in my mind that you have money. This is my gift to you for the many wonderful stories.”
“I’m surprised you read so many,” Dillon said, and he reached out to grab on to one of the paperbacks. “Most of my stuff’s in e-book only.”
“Ah,” Rowan said, and he reached back into his bag and pulled out the Kindle that he’d been given. A gift from Owen and Peter, after they had discovered how much Rowan enjoyed reading. The two of them had wanted to do something for Rowan after he’d used his healing powers on…Well, that no longer mattered.
He showed the device to Dillon, and the man laughed. “Right, I guess I should have realized that pretty much everyone has one of those.”
Rowan waited for his food to arrive, and he insisted on sharing his blueberry pie with the man as well. It was interesting to see how Dillon quickly opened up to him, and soon they were like old friends who laughed together.
Rowan supposed this was how it was meant to be, however. When two mates found each other, they were meant to be compatible. Would Dillon respond if Rowan wanted to bring him somewhere private?
Just sitting here was making his cock ache. Jeans were hardly civilized clothing, but they covered his ass better than the britches of the old days did.
Still, it was incredibly discomforting when his dick swelled and pressed against the metal teeth of his zipper. Sometimes he even feared what would happen should he get his cock caught in the thing, which was why he was always careful, but right now he didn’t want to be careful. He wanted to throw his mate over his shoulder and walk out of the diner with him. He wanted to bring Dillon somewhere public and push him against the brick wall, or down on a park bench, anywhere, and pull the man’s pants off with his teeth.