On impulse, Rick followed the trail, sliding down the steep hill, and let his eyes and nose lead the way. Something prodded his curiosity.
Dillon quickly caught up. “What is it?”
“Not sure yet. Just a gut feeling.” Rounding a bend, he slowed to a crawl before finally stopping.
A rustling ahead drew his attention.
Dillon hunkered down, his focus on the bushy terrain ahead of them. Together, they stalked, silently moving in opposite directions in order to flank the target. With a mental three count, they rushed in, shoving branches to the side and digging through weeds until they uncovered the reason for the noise.
Rick caught the whiff of wolf shifter genetics. Blood splattered over the pale skin of a young male, probably early twenties at most—a juvenile in shifter terms. His arm rested at an odd angle, while his right leg bent abnormally.
Leaning in, he brushed the shaggy black hair from the boy’s face and watched as the youth cracked his eyes open.
Dillon kneeled down. “What happened?”
The boy’s mouth opened then shut once more with only a croak emerging. He swallowed and tried again. “Pack turned.”
Rick scanned the injured wolf for further injuries. With so much blood, slash wounds, and the obvious fractures, he probably suffered other, more pressing damage. “There aren’t wolf packs in this area. What pack?”
“Geoff’s pack.” A hacking cough followed.
Rick glanced up and met Dillon’s gaze, sharing a long look. Seemed the pack had turned on one of its own. A valuable gift, if they could keep him alive.
“What’s your name?”
“Tryst.”
Dillon brushed his hand over Tryst’s forehead. “We’re going to get you to a doctor.”
“No. No…doctor.” He squirmed in agitation.
“What pack are you from?” Dillon pushed more brush aside in preparation for picking up the wounded wolf.
“None. They…none.” He turned his head and glanced away.
“Why did Geoff do this?” Dillon waved his hand over Tryst’s body.
“I couldn’t…human girl child…couldn’t kill.” Once again, he grew restless.
Rick stilled his movements with a hand on his good arm. “Then we’re taking you to our pack healer. The Summit Pack.” The name of their family group would speak for itself, being the largest, most powerful and wealthiest pack in the six state area.
Shifters normally healed themselves with form changes. Unfortunately, in Tryst’s present condition, he lacked the strength to complete the task and needed some medical attention beforehand. Not to mention his youth and resulting lack of experience proved a hindrance. If he had a couple of centuries under his belt, Tryst might have been able to pull it off himself, but being an adolescent, he required assistance. Broken bones had to be lined up before shifting in order to ensure a proper knitting together while other injuries required the hand of a skilled healer. Better to get him to the expert now in order to give him every opportunity at a full recovery with no lasting physical limitations.
Tryst’s mouth opened and closed once more. Rick smiled encouragingly. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”
Dillon slipped his arms under Tryst and lifted him gently. The boy clenched his teeth, cried out only once then remained silent. With quick steps, Rick led the way back to the truck.
Chapter Seven
“Good to hear.” Dillon clicked his phone off and met the gazes of the other two men in the room. They presently stood in Copper’s office after driving the four hour round-trip to drop a seriously injured Tryst off with their pack healer. “He’s going to pull through. Broken bones set already. Internal wounds healed once he was able to shift with the aid of Dr Winston.”
“Great.” Rick smiled in relief. “Poor kid. At least he’s out of the woods and will be fine. Although…”
Dillon waved his hand. “Already ahead of you. He’s moving in with the supreme alphas today.”
Rick chuckled. “He’ll chafe but be in the best hands, particularly if Geoff or his old pack decides they want him back.”
“Your pack just adopted him? Out of the blue?” Copper glanced from one wolf to another.
“Yeah. They did.” The wooden chair squeaked as Dillon plopped down. “He’s not a bad juvenile, just desperate. From what he mentioned, and from what they were able to piece together from hearsay, the kid’s old pack ostracized him because he liked men exclusively.”
“Damn idiots.” Rick shook his head.
Copper scowled. “You’d think in this day and time, they’d have learned something.”
Dillon readily agreed. He thanked his lucky stars that the Summit Pack embraced every sexual orientation equally, otherwise, he and Rick might have been in the same boat as Tryst, since very few packs openly accepted all forms of mating. Instead, they both held high positions within the group and were well respected by their peers. Too bad the leadership in a few shifter colonies turned their nose up at gays and openly ridiculed their own flesh and blood. Dillon only hoped it came back to bite them in the ass.
“Doc says we can talk to Tryst this evening. See what he can tell us.”
“Good. Finally a solid break.” Copper sighed loudly and pinched his nose. “Because we’re not getting close enough yet.”
“That’s because we’ve only been here for a couple of days. Give us a little more time and we’ll flush the rogue.” Dillon stared at the lion, his mouth watering at the sight of the reddish-brown short hair that fell to Copper’s collar. He wanted to run his fingers through the locks, grasp hold, and pull the man’s mouth to his for a deep, thorough plundering. He had to taste like he smelled, musky and spicy. A heady combination that already set his dick to hardening with the mere thought.
Get a grip. He’s a damn alpha. The most impossible mating he could imagine.
“A couple of days too long. We need to push on the son of a bitch. Get him to reveal himself and fast. I’ll be damned if anyone else dies while I’m sitting here twiddling my thumbs.” Copper’s amber eyes flashed with anger, his face taut.
“I’ll hit the bar again tonight. There’s something going on there—maybe a meeting point or a go-between. Those Rocky Patch by-blows weren’t there by accident.” He recalled the troublemakers who’d entered the bar while he’d sat sipping his beer. They’d been no good from day one. If a gang was forming nearby, those two would be right in the middle of it.
“Good idea. I’ll run in the woods. Maybe I can scent some activity and do some surveillance,” Copper added.
Rick sat up straight. “Not alone, you’re not. What if they make you?”
Copper snorted.
Dillon narrowed his eyes. “I agree. Too open, too dangerous. Even a handful of wolves can take down a fully grown male lion. Not to mention they could simply shoot you first and be done with it.”
“I’m going with you.” Rick stood up, crossing his arms over his chest.
Dillon had seen that stance and look before. Rick possessed stubbornness to the nth degree.
“Not necessary. Lion here. I’m a big boy and can take care of myself. Besides, this is my territory.” He lifted his chin haughtily.
“Probably. Most of the time—when you don’t have a group of shifters searching for any excuse to murder someone else. A healthy pack can take down anything, you arrogant feline.”
“I’d like to see them try.”
Dillon shook his head. When it came to downright arrogance, the lion took the cake. “Look, lion-o. This isn’t another male kitty trying to take over your pride. This is a pack of bloodthirsty wolves killing for pleasure. They can and will take you down with a vengeance. No one can fight off a whole pack. No one. Not even the biggest, baddest tomcat around.”
The lion frowned, puffed out a breath then threw up his arms in surrender. “Whatever gets your jollies off.” The clipped growl spoke of overflowing frustration and his independence nerve being trampled on.
Let him be pissy.
At least he’ll walk out of the forest alive. “Fine. I’ll check out the bar then join you two for a night run. Maybe we’ll stumble across something if the drinking hole doesn’t pan out.”
They glanced at one another. Rick nodded first, quickly followed by Dillon. They both stared at Copper. “Damn. Fine with me.”
“Deal.” Dillon finalized.
* * * *
“Struck out?”
Dillon tensed and growled, glaring at the lion. “I can’t help it if the bar happened to be as dead as a door nail. Different bartender and no one around. Waste of time.”
Copper’s eyes flickered with mischief.
Rick shook his head but grinned to himself. Just like cats and dogs, Copper and Dillon couldn’t seem to resist taunting one another, yanking the other’s chain—sexual tension and foreplay. Though they both would vehemently deny the simple fact, he read between the lines all too easily. No way would he open his mouth. Not when he was having so much fun watching the two of them jostle to get the other’s goat.
The feline lifted his head and sniffed deeply. “There’s a storm coming in.”
“What? Afraid of getting a little wet, kitty?” Dillon stirred the pot while shucking his shirt off and flinging the garment into the car.
Rick bit back a chuckle and began to strip. No sense ruining another set of clothing when he shifted forms. Besides, after checking out the woods, he’d need something to wear. For some reason, he didn’t think the locals would appreciate him or the other two driving back to town buck naked. Last he knew, there were human laws against nudity in public.
Copper rolled his eyes and pulled off clothes at a rapid pace, flipping them into his truck when finished. “If I were you, I’d be afraid of taunting the lion one too many times and getting your ass kicked.”
The beta’s gaze roamed over the lion’s body. Thick and powerful, the magnificent, muscular build set his mouth to watering. Glancing to the side, he found Dillon taking in the sight with avid attention.
“Pompous feline.”
“Mangy wolf.” With those words, Copper shifted into his animal form.
A glorious nude man turned into a huge tawny-colored lion. Solid and massive, the lion had to be nine feet from the tip of his nose to the end of his fuzzy, tufted tail. Short, thick fur covered his body from top to bottom, and feet the size of plates sported curved, white claws. A full dark brown mane added to the beauty and intimidation of the great beast.
Rick gaped for a long moment, appreciating the impressive shifter before him. He’d never seen a more awe inspiring animal, or a sexier one.
Dillon jumped out from behind his truck, already in his charcoal gray furry form, barking and nipping at the lion’s hind legs.
The feline sat on his haunches and swiped one deadly paw at the bothersome canine, nails retracted. With a surge, the lion leaped into a full gallop and headed into the woods, Dillon right on his heels.
With a chuckle, Rick shifted into his cream-colored wolf form and bolted after the other two.
Chapter Eight
“Whose fucking idea was this?” Copper shivered and hurried up the stairs to the front door of his rental house, the wolf shifters right on his heels.
When nothing had panned out at the bar, Dillon had met up with him and Rick, who’d already patrolled the outskirts of the vast wooded acreage of the nearby national forest. Dillon had stripped down, shifted into his wolf form then leaped into a gallop, covering miles in a short time.
Until a severe thunderstorm had broken over them, not only soaking them in the first couple of minutes but pelting them with golf ball-sized hail to boot. Considering the temperature hovered just above freezing, even the thick coats of the wolves didn’t shield them from the cold. His shorter hair, made for a hot African Savannah, had proven damn useless under Mother Nature’s wrath. Chilled to the bone, they’d made a hasty decision to return to Copper’s house, which was closer than the hotel. Not like lazy rogues would be out in the same weather, anyway.
“Yours, dumbass.” Dillon growled as Copper shoved the key in the lock and threw the door open.
Bristling, Copper set his back teeth and clung to his patience. Normally fairly tolerant, he couldn’t believe how easily the alpha wolf got under his skin and set his temper to flaring. No one else really challenged him. Those that did usually backed down after a single roar and show of teeth. While he could definitely do some damage, he preferred lounging over fighting any day, as any wild lion would do. The males protected the pride from interlopers and covered the females when they came into heat. His feline nature didn’t stray much off the mark. Protective instincts remained solidly in place. On the other hand, he much preferred to mount a willing male than have sex with a female, even one in heat.
Lately, he wanted nothing more than to strip down and fuck the mated pair of wolves. Rick aroused him and made him want to play. Dillon made him…restless.
The beta pulled up the rear, closing the door behind him. All three had managed to shift back to human form, quickly don their clothes, then jump into their respective trucks in order to drive back to civilization as fast as the weather allowed.
Even with the heater blasting on high for the entire twenty minute drive, Copper still shivered. “Hot shower and change of clothes.” He marched straight to his bedroom, digging out sweats for all three. Carrying the clothes back to the living room, he found the wolves already stripped down and glistening with moisture.
Despite the cold, blood rushed to his groin, quickly filling his needy cock. He stared at the two wolf shifter males in their prime—healthy, strong and full of muscles. Even soft, their cocks appeared impressive, making him long to see them fully erect, jutting out from their bodies and leaking pre-cum in a plea for attention. Maybe they would stand out straight. Perhaps one would curve. No matter. They would be gorgeous in their full size.
“Did you mention a shower?” Rick asked.
Copper blinked, tearing his gaze from their dicks to meet their amused gazes. Let them find humor in his appraisal of them. Someone might as well. The fact remained they were a bonded pair with no place in their lives for another. Wolves mated for life, so his chances of joining them in night after night of ecstasy hovered around the possibility of a blizzard in hell. He needed to get over them and fast.
“Sure. Go ahead. Straight down the hall and to the left. Towels in the cabinets. Soap and shampoo in the shower.” What in the hell is wrong with me? Lusting after a bonded pair of wolves? I must be damn desperate.
Dillon lifted an eyebrow. “What about you?”
“I’ll take my turn after you guys are finished.” He shrugged. “Just don’t use all the hot water.” He grumbled, turned then headed into the kitchen.
* * * *
Dillon towel dried his hair, waiting for Rick to finish rinsing his. He would have taken advantage of the hot water and their naked state, except he knew from experience they’d be busy for a while and wouldn’t step out until the water ran cold. Since they’d accepted Copper’s hospitality, he couldn’t slight the man, leaving him with an icy shower.
“Did you smell his arousal?” Rick stepped from the shower, took the offered towel, and began drying off. His whispered words went no farther than the bathroom door.
“Yeah. He sure enjoyed the eyeful we gave him too.” Dillon finished wiping beads of water from his body and took a moment to pull on the borrowed sweats. “He’s fighting it, though.”
Rick nodded, dried off, then pulled on his own dark gray garments. “Wonder why? It’s not like shifters are known to be prudish or coy.”
“No clue.” Dillon considered the matter for a moment. “Maybe he doesn’t want to get involved. Or he could be forcing himself to focus solely on the case, avoid any distractions until he corners the rogue and eliminates the threat.”
Rick sighed heavily and flung the towels into a nearby hamper. “So, what are we going to do about it?”
“Do about it?” Dillon met Rick’s gaze, no
ting the small smile growing on the beta’s face.
“I can read you like a book, Dil. You’re hot to trot around that lion. Hell, you reek of pheromones so much even a child could pick up on it.”
Dillon shook his head and grinned. “Okay. I’m horny. Sue me. That doesn’t change the fact he’s an alpha and not right as our mate.”
Rick stepped close, ran his finger down Dillon’s sternum, and trailed it all the way to Dillon’s semi-erect dick. “Admit it. You want him to be our third.”
Biting back a small groan, Dillon met Rick’s gaze. “Is that what you want? To bring the lion in as our third mate?”
“Definitely.” Rick’s voice carried certainty.
“We’ll butt heads all the time. Rick, it’s destined to fail.” Dillon puffed out a breath and ignored the stabbing pain in the gut his own truthful words caused.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
He met Rick’s gaze, read the longing on the man’s face, and sighed. How could he disregard his mate’s wishes without at least giving the situation a try? Simple. He couldn’t. In all reality, he’d do anything to make Rick happy, even agree to a threesome doomed to failure. Rick isn’t asking for something I don’t already want for myself. Coming to a quick decision, he mentally threw in the towel.
At least they’d experience some hot sex along the way. “Okay. We can give it a try.”
Rick rewarded him with a smile that could’ve outshone the sun.
“But don’t get your hopes up.”
His lover nodded. “One day at a time. That’s all I’m asking of either of you.”
“Which brings us to the question of how do we get him to join us?” Dillon tapped his lips. “Solve the case first then see what happens?”
“Works for me.” Rick licked Dillon’s ear, earning a hard kiss in return.
Before they could get too carried away, Dillon stepped toward the door. “Rain check. As much as I would love to bend you over the bathroom counter and slam into that tight ass of yours, our host waits for his shower.”
Triad Page 5