by Anya Byrne
"I'm just taking a holiday," Ward answered vaguely. "No need to be concerned. Letting it go, like you said."
"A holiday. With whom?"
Seriously? Was that what she meant by 'doing something stupid'? Just what crap had Peter been feeding her? Typical that the man would take his heart, then the faith everyone else had in him.
Well, Ward refused to continue this conversation. "Look, Vera. I just need a break from New York. The rest is none of your business. Have fun sorting the wedding gifts."
Vera spluttered, but Ward didn't give her time to come up with a reply. He ended the call, feeling more exhausted than before. Why was it that even here, he couldn't escape the pain of the rejection and the betrayal?
Suddenly, the walls of the house seemed to be closing in around him. Ward shot to his feet and stumbled outside, heaving deep breaths of air and studiously trying not to think. It was easier said than done. Years of his life wasted, down the drain, turned into a source of shame and regret. Useless. He was useless, a toy whose owner had lost interest in. Peter hadn't exactly put it that way, but his words had hurt even more.
"It was never meant to be more than a fuck. It's not my fault that you made it into a whirlwind romance."
Maybe Peter was right. Maybe Ward had romanticized something that should have never gotten past their first date. But he hadn't built up that whirlwind on his own, and he hadn't forced Peter to tell him all the 'I love you's.' He hadn't asked to have his life crushed when the man he'd planned to marry decided he was actually straight, and married his sister instead.
Ward couldn't think. He just knew he needed to get out of here. On shaky legs, he made his way to his car. As he slid inside, he shoved his key in the ignition. His hands trembled slightly, but he ignored it. With far more difficulty than would have been warranted, he started the vehicle and drove off. He wanted to escape the sound of Peter's voice. He'd thought the warmth of his grandfather's old home would be enough. Obviously, it wasn't.
He didn't know how long he kept going, but he probably would have driven for much longer had the unluckiest thing possible not happened. He couldn't have said how it occurred. It was pretty early still, and he didn't expect traffic anywhere near the house. Suddenly, just when he was about to veer off to head into Willow Cove—perhaps he could find a distraction there, he thought—a wolf popped in his path.
Ward distantly remembered reading somewhere that Wisconsin held a growing population of wolves, and this hour was probably right around the time the beasts liked to come out and play. That didn't mean he was any less surprised. He pressed the breaks as soon as he saw the animal. The tires squealed and the car skidded, but despite Ward's attempt to avoid hitting the magnificent creature, he still heard a dull thud and a pained yelp.
Ward cursed under his breath. He should have known better than to drive when so distracted. Now, he might have killed an innocent animal—just because he'd been stupid and he'd let the damn phone call work him into unwarranted panic.
Hating himself wouldn't help. He stumbled out of the car, a bit more shaky on his legs than he'd realized. His desire to help the creature he'd hurt gave him a measure of control, so he went around the vehicle, only to see the wolf getting up, limping slightly, but looking otherwise pretty unharmed.
Ward liked wolves. He liked animals in general, and his love for them stemmed perhaps from the time he'd spent here when he'd been younger. There was something simply beautiful about wolves, though, something he hadn't quite managed to pinpoint.
He'd painted countless portraits of wolves in the wild—sometimes howling, other times playing with their young. It was hard to get genuine imagery, since he couldn't simply walk into their habitat and pull out his sketchbook or his easel. A handful of times, he'd lucked out and hired professionals who could guide him through reserves.
But he had never seen a wild wolf so up close. Since he'd deemed the beast injured, Ward hadn't been careful in his approach, and if he'd taken a few more steps, they'd practically be side by side.
Naturally, he didn't. Contrary to what Vera might believe, he was not suicidal. He was also very much aware that wolves were not cuddly pets, and that abrupt motions could earn him an unfortunate death in the claws and canines of the admittedly magnificent beast.
The wolf watched with golden eyes that glowed in the dim light of the early morning. It took a step forward, slowly, almost tentatively. It almost seemed curious, and Ward could only hope that curiosity wasn't about how Ward tasted.
He scanned his brain for anything he remembered on dealing with such a situation, but he came out blank. Those deep gold eyes hypnotized him. Was this how a deer felt before it was felled by a predator? If so, Ward almost envied it. And what a strange thought to have at this particular moment.
So Ward didn't move, simply taking in every detail of the creature as it approached. It was big, larger than any wolf Ward had seen even in the wild. Its fur was also far darker than that of the gray wolves Ward had painted in the past. It had huge paws, and if Ward had been inclined toward hyperbole, he would have almost compared them to a bear's.
He was afraid at first. How could he not be? He had a huge freaking wolf in front of him, and his muscles were frozen, keeping him from moving. However, the beast gave no sign of wanting to pounce on Ward. In fact, it sat down on its hind legs, tilting its head and looking for all the world like the universe's biggest puppy. To complete the image, it nudged Ward's hand with its snout and then licked his palm.
Okay, this was not happening. Wolves weren't pets. They didn't lie back and wag their tails at random humans.
Could it be that someone had been raising this wolf in their household? It wasn't exactly unprecedented. Ward had heard of many people who'd tried something similar, many times in an attempt to protect the animal in question.
Personally, Ward thought wild animals belonged in the wild, but there were always extenuating circumstances to consider. If the wolf had been raised in a domestic setting, it might not have the necessary skills to survive on its own. That would somewhat explain why it had suddenly appeared in front of his car, he supposed.
Either way, it seemed obvious the wolf didn't intend to hurt Ward, and Ward still remembered that distinctive thud and the earlier limp. Despite the part of him that was screaming to bid a hasty retreat, he crouched in front of the animal, bringing them to eye level. "Okay, big guy, don't eat me. I want to see your leg. Are you hurt?"
He gestured for the paw that the wolf had been favoring earlier, and the animal obediently offered it, confirming Ward's guess that it must have had human masters at one point. Ward tentatively brushed his fingers over the wolf's paw and shoulder, sinking them in the luxurious fur to seek any signs of blood.
The wolf released a low growl, but it wasn't threatening. In fact, it the animal had been a feline, Ward would have called it a purr.
There was no injury that Ward could find, but he still wasn't quite pacified. "I should get a vet to look you over," he mused.
The wolf huffed and nudged Ward's cheek with his snout. It almost seemed like a disgruntled refusal, and Ward berated himself for interpreting the animal's response as something human. He decided to take one thing at a time.
He couldn't leave the wolf here, and he wasn't sure how to find a vet at this hour in Willow Cove. As such, there was only one solution he could find. "All right, big guy. Let's get you in the car. You're coming with me, and I'm getting you something to eat."
****
Mathias had no idea what he was doing. He had spent most of the night running, trying to clear his head, seeking the source of the strange feeling. Toward the early hours of the morning, he'd gotten a better sense of where he needed to go, but then, a weird panic had gripped him, and he'd found himself scrambling blindly through the forest, pursuing that fear, knowing that he needed to be there for... For who?
Despite the intensity of the emotion, the identity of his quarry still shocked him to the core. It had struck him har
der than the car he'd accidentally run in front of, which was ironic, given that Mathias had been looking for its driver the whole time. Its driver, who was a human, and Mathias's true mate.
The moment Mathias had met the human's eyes, he'd known just how wrong he'd been. His magic sang at finally finding his perfect match, and his wolf howled in triumph. All of his senses—both magical and otherwise—screamed with the rightness.
Unfortunately, he was still in wolf form, and he couldn't exactly shift in the middle of the street. So far, he couldn't feel anyone nearby, but there was no telling if that was the case or not given that Mathias's senses were so focused on his mate. Besides, such a shift would draw unpleasant attention, since he'd be breaking the Secrecy Accords.
It was a moot point, since his mate was already panicking at having a wolf in front of him, and changing shapes would make things worse. So Mathias stayed a wolf and did his best to appear as non-threatening as possible.
It worked, and far better than expected. His mate seemed drawn to him even if he most likely didn't know why, and perhaps he was less afraid of Mathias than other humans would have been in his position. And so, Mathias ended up sitting obediently in the back seat of his mate's car, doing his best impression of being harmless.
His mate got behind the wheel and turned the car around, heading back into the direction he'd been coming from. "I have to admit I'm new here," he said, "so I might not be completely equipped to feed a wolf, but I'll do my best, okay, big guy?"
Mathias woofed and managed to nudge his mate's ear with his snout. The human chuckled, waving a hand at him. "Stop. Don't distract me. I'm driving."
With a disgruntled huff, Mathias set his head on the back of his mate's seat. He waited patiently and closed his eyes, reveling in the scent of his other half and the lively pulsing of his energy.
It hadn't escaped his notice that his human looked quite a lot like Will. They shared the same chocolate brown hair, the same build, facial structure and full lips. Their eyes was different—Will's were green, while Mathias's mate had the deepest blue orbs, so dark they were almost black. But most importantly, their energy was similar.
It made so much sense now, why Mathias had fooled himself into thinking Will was his mate. His Sidhe instincts had shoved aside the wolf ones and zeroed in on that energy, desperate to find a connection. It had been so easy with Will, since Mathias cared about the man outside that pull, simply because of who he was.
Everything was sliding into place and for the first time in decades, Mathias's head felt clear, his heart light. He'd given up on finding his true mate after his failure with Will. To think that it had finally happened, after all this time, was almost too much to bear.
He also suspected the resemblance between Will and his mate was no coincidence. It was very likely Will was related to Mathias's human in some way. Will had said no more descendants of his family lived in Willow Cove, but maybe that had changed.
It could be a problem for the Lone Wolf Pack. Mathias had to tread lightly, since he had not forgotten Jessie still needed his help. As much as he wanted to stay with his mate, he needed to find the right balance—and most importantly, find a way to tell his human the truth.
He was so lost in thought he almost missed the moment his mate stopped the car. "Okay big guy," the human said. "Home sweet home."
Mathias's mate slid out of the vehicle and let him out. Mathias jumped down on the ground and looked around, sniffing the air curiously. They were in front of a medium-sized house, pretty old in style, but not particularly run down. Mathias wondered if this was Will's family home, or some other property his mate had purchased for his own use.
The human almost seemed to guess his thoughts, and he obviously needed the company, because as they headed toward the stairs, he started to explain, "So I'm just getting the house clean. Don't you dare tear into the carpets or whatever. My grandfather loved this place. It was among the few things he had left of his brothers and his parents."
Given all that, Mathias expected his mate to tell him to stay outside, but the human didn't. He gestured for Mathias to wait in front of the couch. "Be right back. Let me see what I have in the fridge."
Mathias wasn't actually hungry—he could hunt easily enough for himself—but he didn't want to refuse his mate's generosity, so he waited. A few minutes passed, with the sound of banging and muttering the only sign that Mathias's mate was making any progress. Mathias couldn't contain his curiosity anymore and he padded to the edge of the living room. When he peeked into the kitchen, he found his mate standing in front of a table, helplessly looking at a slab of frozen beef.
The human noticed him and shot him a sheepish grin. "So I wasn't exactly planning on having a barbecue anytime soon, and that backfired on me." Shaking his head, he turned around and opened the fridge again, zeroing in on what looked like pressed bacon. "Okay, this is going to have to do. I'll work out on getting more later."
The last thing Mathias wanted was to unnecessarily dig into his mate's supplies or cause him inconvenience. He considered changing into his human form and explaining. Maybe he'd have done exactly that if his mate's phone hadn't rung from somewhere in the living room.
The human cursed. "Damn it. Okay, I'll feed you in a bit. Let me just take care of this."
His mate's tone concerned Mathias. There was something both harsh and lost in it, and he followed the human, knowing he shouldn't eavesdrop, but unable to keep himself from it.
His wolf form had the significant advantage that his mate didn't deem his approach as an invasion of privacy, which would probably backfire on Mathias eventually. Mathias couldn't change that, not for the moment, now when his mate was glaring fiercely at the phone. He accepted the call, but he looked so thunderous he was probably more inclined to throw the device out the window. "What do you want, Peter?"
"I spoke to Vera," came the reply from the other side of the connection. "She said you're dating someone already. What the hell, Ward?"
Ward. His mate's name was Ward. That was good to know—and probably the only good thing that would come out of this conversation.
"That's my line," Ward snapped. "What in the world gave you the idea that you can call me again—ever?"
Mathias really didn't like this Peter person, or the reaction he caused in his mate. He growled lightly, which drew Ward's gaze to him. He almost feared he'd frightened his mate, but Ward smiled. He plopped down on the couch and gestured for Mathias to sit with him, and Mathias quickly took his mate up on the invitation.
He ended up with his head on Ward's lap, Ward's hand petting his fur. It felt nice, Mathias couldn't deny that, but he also knew his mate needed it as much as Mathias did.
Ward's voice was calmer when he added, "My life is none of Vera's business—or yours."
"I think it is," Peter replied. "If you forgot about me so quickly, I can only imagine what you'd been doing behind my back when we were dating. Do I have to go get tested?"
Ward's fingers tightened in Mathias's fur, and Mathias let a hint of magic reach out to his mate, soothing him. Ward took a deep breath, Mathias's presence and power anchoring him. "I never cheated on you, Peter. You were the one who decided my sister was better than me. And for the record, I did go see a doctor after we broke up, and my tests came out clean. If yours are different, you should ask yourself what you've been doing since."
"This isn't about me," Peter hissed. "You're trying to turn this into another accusation when I was only ever—"
"Please, Peter," Ward interrupted him quietly. "Just stop. You have what you want, a normal marriage, with a woman who can give you your white picket fence happily ever after. Leave me alone."
Without waiting for a reply, Ward ended the call and tossed the phone on the coffee table. "I really should block his number," he said with a sigh. "Why can't I do it?"
Mathias lifted his head to look up at his unhappy mate. He wanted to hunt down the asshole who'd hurt Ward like this, and the helplessness and the jealousy
were almost crushing him. He should have been there for Ward instead of stupidly pining over Will.
Ward hugged Mathias's head and buried his face in his shoulder. "Stay. Let me... Just let me hold you."
Mathias didn't move, but as his mate's hot tears soaked his fur, he swore that somehow, he'd make sure Peter didn't get away with this.
He didn't know how long they stayed like that, with Mathias's mind working furiously and his heart racing painfully, his entire sense of self thrown by his discovery of his mate, and the realization of said mate's grief. When Ward finally released him, though, he made Mathias's decision for him.
"I'm sorry about that. Ex. Brings out the worst in me every single time." He sighed and rubbed his red-rimmed eyes. "He'd probably say I'm crazy, talking to you like I do. You don't understand a word I'm saying. Even crazier that I wish you were a person..."
Mathias knew he couldn't perpetuate the deception any longer, not if he wanted his mate to forgive him and open his heart to him. He leaped off the couch and put enough distance between then so that Ward wouldn't be too scared once he shifted.
When he was as ready as he was going to get, he allowed his magic to surge forth and summoned his human form to the surface. A heartbeat later, he was standing on two feet, facing a wide-eyed Ward.
"I am a person, and I'm here for you."
Chapter Four
Ward liked to think he was a pretty open-minded guy. God only knew he'd had his brushes with the more uncommon or less widely accepted behaviors. But when the wolf in his living room shifted into a man, he really had a moment during which he questioned most of his life choices.
"Okay. That's it. I crashed the car, didn't I? I'm dying in a ditch somewhere."
The man—who was even bigger and more impressive in this form than in his wolf one—took a step forward. "Don't say that, Ward, please."
The sound of his name on the stranger's lips was distracting. Or maybe it was the fact that the guy was completely naked and had all his dangly bits out for Ward to see. Either way, if this wasn't a hallucination fueled by impending death, it could only be a dream, because wolves didn't turn into men who looked like they'd walked off the cover of Playgirl. They didn't turn into men, period.