His wolf prodded him again, reminding him he didn’t have his mate now. He’d already pushed their mate away.
He didn’t know what to do. Were his parents, Finley’s parents, right? Should he just go get Finley, fuck him, then bring him back and claim him in front of the gods and everyone else? Was he being ridiculous as everyone seemed to think he was?
He missed Finley. Less than twenty-four hours, and he already ached. He didn’t know if that was the physical distance and stress on their bond or the emotional, but the ache was there all the same.
Should he give Finley the space? Or was that a bigger mistake than claiming his mate while they were so young?
Tanner got back on his feet. He let loose a howl, knowing how forlorn it sounded, but he couldn’t help it. He gave himself another shake, then took off running, hoping against hope the air would help clear his head.
Chapter Four
FINLEY STEPPED out of the Amtrak station onto Liberty Avenue in Pittsburgh and resisted the urge to take a deep breath. Instead, he stopped on the sidewalk and looked around. It’d been a few months since he’d been in downtown Pittsburgh, and for a moment, couldn’t remember where a damned thing was.
He had three hours before he needed to be back to board his train to Chicago. He didn’t want to spend the time on the Amtrak station’s hard plastic chairs, but very little was still open at that time of night. He pulled out his phone, waited for it to turn on, and when it did, ignored the missed calls from his mate.
The word sent a stab through him, and his wolf whined in his head. He tried to think soothing things to calm him down, but he was hurting just as much. Forcibly pushing the thoughts aside, he pulled up the maps app and searched for food.
If he believed his phone, the only things anywhere close that were open were Sammy’s Famous Corned Beef, a Chinese place he’d never heard of before, and the coffee shop across the street in the hotel.
He loved Pittsburgh, he really did, but downtown in the evening sucked.
He decided to head down for Sammy’s. At least it was meat. He couldn’t be sure what he’d get at the Chinese place, and he wanted more than coffee before he was stuck on the train all night. He’d get the coffee on the way back, though.
Decision made, he waited for the light to change—showing how much he wasn’t a native Pittsburgher—and crossed over. He kept one hand tight on his backpack strap and a careful eye out for people to avoid. Pittsburgh wasn’t bad and he could certainly defend himself well enough, but the best way he had to do that involved shifted eyes, teeth, and claws, and that wasn’t generally good to do in public.
He made it the few blocks to the sandwich shop without seeing anyone and breathed a sigh of relief when he stepped inside. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of smoke as he skirted the bar to approach the counter.
The big man standing there wore a surprisingly pristine white apron and a Pirates ball cap over his hair. He smiled, showing a full set of even, white teeth, which surprised Finley for some reason. “What can I get yinz?”
Finley tried not to smirk at the word. He looked up at the menu, considered the options, and turned back. “Two specials, please.”
The man nodded and wasted no time pulling out the rye bread, weighing the corned beef, and setting up the sandwich. As he dumped sauerkraut and Russian dressing over the meat, he glanced up. “Here or to go?”
“Uh, to go, please,” Finley decided. The smoke was going to get to him too fast. While the food smelled good, the rest he could do without. He’d find a bench somewhere to sit.
The guy made quick work of wrapping the sandwiches, and stuffed them in a paper bag. “Drink?”
A few minutes later, Finley stepped back onto the street with his sandwiches and bottled water. He sighed, trying not to think too much as he strolled back along Liberty Avenue to the coffee shop.
The problem was, the quiet evening and the light traffic weren’t enough to keep his attention. It was way too easy to think, and before he could manage to stop it, Tanner’s face filled his mind again. Full cheeks, strong jaw, bright blue eyes he wanted to just get lost in, a smile that always seemed to light up that handsome face—all of it made for a gorgeous mate.
He wished he didn’t love the man. If it was just the mating bond, it might not be so hard. But from the night they met, they’d spent time together, getting to know each other, and he’d been helpless, unable to do anything but fall in love.
When Tanner wasn’t stressed, he had an amazing sense of humor. They had similar taste in movies—though Tanner only seemed to put up with Finley’s fascination with werewolf movies, including rewatching the series about a certain magical boy and his werewolf teacher—and had spent more than a few Saturdays on his parents’ couch doing series marathons. They played board games together, killed each other in video games. They’d hiked in the woods as humans. Tanner had even helped him babysit his sisters a few times.
In all that, Tanner never treated him like a kid—except for the fact that they didn’t have sex. He always talked to him like they were equals.
They dated. He’d thought it silly at first. They were mates. The other half of themselves. It wasn’t like they weren’t going to end up together.
But he found he’d enjoyed going out to dinner or the movies or dancing with his mate. He’d loved sitting under the stars out in the middle of nowhere in human form. He’d loved going running together in wolf form.
Yeah, he was in love. And it was killing him.
He stopped to get his coffee, then found a bench outside the hotel back from the street itself. He slumped down, not even really interested in his food at the moment. He needed to eat, though, especially if he was going to keep control of his wolf while he was encased in a steel tube for nine hours.
Wolves didn’t fly. Very few of their kind could handle it. The train was bad enough, and though it took longer, it was still on the ground, which was enough. But flying, the added pressure—they felt too trapped. Finley had flown once. It’d barely been twenty minutes in the air and he’d thought he was going to go batshit. Once he’d made it back onto the ground, he’d sworn never again.
So, instead, he took the train. As he pulled out his first sandwich, he wondered again if he was making a mistake by doing this, if maybe he was running away like the kid he insisted he wasn’t. Was it right to possibly give up his destined mate?
He didn’t know, and what was worse was that his wolf wasn’t even sure anymore. When he wasn’t with Tanner, nothing felt as right. Nothing felt as good. It was where he belonged. But if Tanner didn’t want him, it wouldn’t matter what he wanted.
He’d thought Tanner loved him too. Tanner hadn’t ever said the words, but the way he’d looked at Finley, the way they’d touched, when they did touch, the kisses… it’d felt like love. He didn’t need a lot of words. In fact, once they were mated, he’d be able to feel more, wouldn’t even need words anymore. But until then, he didn’t know, and it was driving him crazy.
He sighed again, then ate his second sandwich, watching traffic go by. He didn’t have to date someone else. He didn’t have to do anything. But maybe just being away would be enough to show Tanner he needed more.
Shaking his head, he threw the trash in the can, collected his bottle and coffee, and crossed back to the train station. He still had time yet, but with any luck, the train would be there and he could at least pick his seat.
CHICAGO DIDN’T seem as big as he thought it would be. It was still more closed in than his wolf liked, but it was certainly better than the train. He made a face at the horrible exhaust as he consulted the tourist map he’d snagged from the brochure stand. He didn’t want to go too far—he didn’t have a lot of time—but he wasn’t about to pass up seeing some of Chicago while he was there.
He found a park on the map, running along the lakefront, so he turned left at the corner. He wanted some decent coffee and maybe a bite to eat, as well. The map didn’t list restaurants, but it was late morning
on a weekday in downtown Chicago. He was pretty sure he could find something.
When he got to the river a block later and looked up, he saw the Sears Tower. Somehow, it didn’t seem all that special, at least from there. He crossed the street, walked along the bridge, and stopped to look out over the water. To his oversensitive nose, it just stank, overshadowing pretty much anything else. He thought Pittsburgh rivers were much prettier and usually even smelled a bit better, though maybe that was because the bridges were much farther from the water’s surface. He shrugged and kept going.
The Sears Tower didn’t look any better from just under it, and he had no wish to be caught in an elevator that long, so he passed it up. The waterfront didn’t appear to be that far, according to the map. He counted eight blocks to the park from where he was. Figuring he couldn’t exactly miss the water—he’d smell it long before he saw it—he stuffed the map in his backpack, hitched it up on his back, and took off, hoping for coffee soon.
He passed two McDonald’s, two Dunkin’ Donuts, a dozen places not even open yet, and was about to despair of finding anything decent when he stumbled across a Starbucks. He was fairly certain the meat in their breakfast sandwiches was at least real. The line took forever; he was apparently not the only one preferring Starbucks. Eventually, he got to the counter and put his order in, and in a reasonably short time, he was back on the street.
As he turned toward the water once more, he spotted yet another Dunkin’ Donuts. He laughed and thought about how Tanner would think it was funny. He had his phone out to text his mate before he realized what he was doing.
He stopped dead, right there, and had to remind himself how to breathe. He gripped his coffee cup too tight and only realized at the last minute what he was doing. It took everything in him to loosen his fingers so he didn’t crush it.
Someone bumped him and he took another breath. The foul exhaust hit him, effectively breaking him out of his stupor. He took a too-hot sip of coffee and managed to get himself walking again.
FINLEY FOUND himself disappointed again when he got to the edge of the lake. There wasn’t much to see, just a whole lot of bluish green water. A collection of small boats dotted the space just off the shore, but the horizon was clear where water met sky. To the left he could see the Navy Pier in the distance, but checking his watch, he knew he wouldn’t have enough time.
Besides, he didn’t want to go alone.
He wanted to go with Tanner. He wanted to be here with Tanner, looking at the lake, sharing sour expressions over the smell. He wanted to sit against his mate in the grass, walk along the shore holding hands.
Cursing himself for not being able to let go for all of five minutes, he turned around and moved to the stretch of grass. He dropped his backpack, set down his coffee and food, kicked off his shoes, and hopped from foot to foot as he stripped off his socks. It wasn’t much, but his wolf liked the feel of grass and earth under his feet. He plopped down and tried to people watch to distract himself as he ate.
The sandwiches weren’t bad, though he missed his mom’s cooking. He was looking forward to his grandmother’s. She always had the need to almost overfeed him, except wolves couldn’t really be overfed. His metabolism was just too damned fast. Even if he ate a lot, he could shift and burn the calories that way.
He leaned back against a tree when he’d finished eating, closing his eyes. The sun warmed his face, and despite the lake and exhaust, the trees, grass, and soil smelled sweet. He caught the scent of a rabbit, though he had no idea where a rabbit would live in the city. There must just be enough park nearby.
Finley sighed, wishing he could let his wolf out, even just to chase the rabbit a bit. He laughed to himself at the thought of the reactions he’d get if he stood up and stripped, then landed on four paws.
He had two more days and then he could run. He could take off on the pack lands and get lost for as long as he wanted to. And he might need to. He was obsessing. The separation from Tanner hurt, but he couldn’t keep dwelling like he was. Some time in his fur, on all fours, in the open forest would help.
He checked the time, grateful to see he had a few more minutes before he had to head back. He tugged on his socks, stuffed his feet in his shoes, threw his backpack on, and wandered over to Buckingham Fountain. It had more stuff than the one in Pittsburgh did, but it wasn’t really all that much more impressive. He pulled his phone out and took a few pictures, refusing to admit he still had hope he’d show them to Tanner later. Instead, he sent them to his mom to show Beth, who had a thing for fountains.
With one more look at the lake, he headed back to the train.
THE TRAIN pulled out of Minneapolis-Saint Paul, heading west into the night. Finley had convinced the car attendant to let him step off for the fifteen minutes they were in the station to load other passengers. His wolf—and he—had needed some fresh air.
He’d managed to snag a discounted upgrade to one of their tiny sleeping compartments. When he stepped back into his compartment, he was glad to see they hadn’t lowered the upper bunk, leaving more room for him to move around, but had set up the lower one for him to sleep. He closed the door and locked it, then secured the curtains over the hallway windows. Satisfied no one could see or get in, he stripped out of his clothes and turned off the lights.
He closed his eyes, greeting his wolf. With a sigh, he let his other half take over. He opened his eyes before he shifted; he liked seeing the change in his vision. His canines poked at his lips, his hands grew their claws, and a few seconds later, he was looking up at the bunk, instead of down at it.
He shook himself, then jumped up onto the bed to look out the window. They’d be passing through a number of other pack lands over the next two days, and he wished for a moment he could at least howl at them and hear a reply.
But he couldn’t get away for long enough on any of their few stops to shift out of sight and be able to howl without scaring the local humans. Even if he did, there was no guarantee anyone would be close enough to hear him. Thinking it through, he realized he was just missing other wolves. He didn’t like being away from his pack this long, even though it’d only been just over a day so far. It felt like a lot longer.
He hadn’t shifted since the last full moon. He’d been too frustrated and messed up over Tanner. He couldn’t go running, couldn’t hunt, but at least his wolf could emerge a bit more, quieting the worst of his racing thoughts. He always felt calmer as his wolf, who looked at everything from a much simpler, more instinctive point of view. Maybe it would help with their mate.
He whined softly at the thought, nosed his way under the blankets, curled up, and rested his head on his paws. He didn’t need the covers, but if anyone got past the locks, hopefully they’d see the lump underneath and leave again. If they didn’t, if they tried to wake him, he’d be in big trouble. He chuffed at the thought of them puzzling over the fur they’ll find on the sheets the next day.
With that thought in his head, his wolf happy to at least be in the forefront, he fell asleep.
FINLEY YAWNED and sat up, looking around. He was momentarily confused as to why he was in wolf form on a bed, but then he looked outside and remembered where he was.
On the train, on his way to Oregon. Away from his mate.
The thought stabbed straight into his heart, and he whined before he could stop himself. He lay back down, putting his paws over his face, trying to block out the thoughts. It didn’t work, of course—the thoughts and pain were inside, not out.
You did it yourself. You made the choice to leave. It was the human side speaking, but the wolf agreed. That didn’t make it any better. He needed his mate; his mate was resisting. Whether he’d been the one to walk away or not, it still hurt like hell.
Before he could let himself get too mired in his thoughts, a knock sounded at the door. He sighed, sat up, shook, then shifted back to human form. He snatched up the boxers he was going to sleep in, yanked them up, then threw a rueful look at the fur-covered sheets and
opened the door.
“Good morning, sir,” the attendant greeted him. “I was checking to see if you would like to order breakfast.”
“Oh, uh….” Finley blinked at him a moment. “Sure, is… there a menu?”
The attendant produced one, and Finley took it, looking over the options. He wasn’t sure about the prices and frowned, considering. Omelets—veggie versions—eggs, french toast. The meat was a side note at the bottom. At times his diet annoyed him. He could go without meat for a while, but even the thought of eating vegetarian made the wolf in his head snort.
Apparently reading his hesitation, the attendant smiled. “Included in your ticket is an entree, two sides, and two drinks.”
“Oh good. The cheese omelet, two orders of sausage, orange juice, and coffee. And add on two orders of bacon. Do I pay you now?”
He shook his head. “I’ll bring the check with the meal.”
“Thank you. Uh… where’s the shower?” He frowned, feeling like he had to smell. He probably didn’t, but something about traveling always made him feel foul.
“Downstairs, on that end,” the attendant replied, pointing toward the front of the car.
“Thanks. Do I have time before it’s done?”
“Of course. I’ll be happy to put up the bed while you’re gone, if you’d like.”
Finley thought about the wolf hair all over the sheets, but nodded. There wasn’t much of anything he could do about it anyway. Might even prove amusing—something he’d appreciate since he hadn’t felt much amusement lately. “Thanks.”
The attendant left, and Finley snatched up his toiletries, shoved his legs into his jeans, threw on last night’s T-shirt, then clean underwear, shirt, and socks. Making sure he had all he needed, he slipped on his shoes and hurried out.
Devotion Page 5