Danny in the Dark

Dreamcatcher 1

Danny in the Dark Danny’s parents have raised him to despise the beast inside him, and he has done his best to repress his inner wolf…until he meets Lars, a half-planeswalker, half-werewolf to whom he is drawn by a powerful supernatural bond. When Danny mates with Lars, he believes the lifelong nightmares that have plagued him are finally over and that he is finally able to control his beast. Instead, his inner demons threaten his mate’s life when their supernatural bond grants Lars access to Danny’s terrifying dreams. Terrified that his freakish nightmares will destroy Lars, Danny tries to flee from his mate, but there is no escaping the bond that joins their subconscious. Can Danny and Lars defeat Danny’s fears before they destroy the only love he has ever known? Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves Length: 44,824 words

DANNY IN THE DARK Dreamcatcher 1

Ellen Ginsberg

EVERLASTING CLASSIC MANLOVE

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK IMPRINT: Everlasting Classic ManLove

DANNY IN THE DARK Copyright © 2011 by Ellen Ginsberg E-book ISBN: 1-61034-789-7 First E-book Publication: September 2011 Cover design by Les Byerley All art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers Dear Readers, If you have purchased this copy of Danny in the Dark by Ellen Ginsberg from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book. The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment. This is Ellen Ginsberg’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Ginsberg’s right to earn a living from her work. Amanda Hilton, Publisher www.SirenPublishing.com www.BookStrand.com

DEDICATION For any lonely, damaged, decent person who’s ever searched for comfort between the pages of a paperback novel. I am with you in Rockland, where you will find your happy ending.

DANNY IN THE DARK Dreamcatcher 1 ELLEN GINSBERG Copyright © 2011

Prologue Adrianna stood on the edge of the cliff, staring down at the whitecapped waves beneath her. Those waves crashed against the Ecstasy Rock as violently as if they were in the midst of a hurricane. But it was not a windy day. Ecstasy Rock, so named for its popularity with local teenagers as one of Borderland’s more rewarding make-out spots, was actually a large rock cliff overlooking the Devils River at Borderland State Park. It was why she had come up here, giggling, with Mitchell, dragging him by the hand all the way down to the edge of where the cliff jutted out over the river. When they reached the edge, Adrianna had stopped, almost trancelike, at the point at which the rock seemed to hover in midair over the waters, a point that almost seemed to dare its visitors to jump into the pristine waters below. No one ever had, of course. The waters were beautiful, but the riverbed underneath them was lined with sharp, jagged rocks even the expert rafters that came down to the river avoided. To jump into them, headfirst, off the cliff would be tantamount to suicide. All the same, Adrianna was hypnotized by the waters below, by the curious way their violent waves seemed to taper off into the otherwise smooth run of the river, leaving a whitewater whirlpool just

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below the rock. It was as if those waves had ascended from some other world, resting just below the surface of the water, whose environment paid no heed to the physics of this world. Morgana. The thought had no sooner touched her mind than Adrianna realized why it was she had come out here today, why she had been drawn to the river, why she had insisted on dragging Mitchell up to the top of the rock like a couple of oversexed teens. “We have to jump.” She heard the tremor in her voice when she said it and wondered whether she was more afraid of the plummet off the rock or the world that was waiting on the other side for them. Here on the earthly plane, she and her family were loners, a strange, standoffish little group that kept to themselves like the refugees they were, but on Morgana, she didn’t know what kind of life awaited them. It had been more than two decades since she and Mitchell had come here. She had been pregnant with Alexander then, and the timing couldn’t be worse. Her little family had made themselves the most wanted revolutionaries on the plane when she and Mitchell helped to begin the insurrection against Murdock, the Vampire King of Morgana. Mitchell was well-respected on the werewolf plane, and he had helped Adrianna find strong warrior wolves who would go to Morgana with her little band of rebel planeswalkers and fight to overthrow Murdock. If the rebels had succeeded in overthrowing Murdock, Adrianna and Mitchell would be welcomed back like royalty. If not, they would likely be put to death. Either way, her time on this plane was over. Something on the other side was calling her back, and the pull was too strong to resist for much longer. She just didn’t know whether or not she could trust it. Shaking, she clasped Mitchell’s hand, the same way she had when they jumped through the planesgate from Morgana and came out here, in the river below, gasping and struggling to get a foothold against the

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waves amid the jagged rocks. They had been okay then, she reminded herself, and she smiled at Mitchell, a shy, fragile smile. It was almost an apology. He squeezed her hand back, glancing off the edge of the cliff to the waters below. “You always did have a flair for the dramatic.” “What will happen to the boys?” “They’ll find their mates.” Adrianna raised an eyebrow at his pat answer. He held his position, though, leveling a stare right back at her. “It’s not like it’s something you can help them with.” She swatted at him, furious at his incessant need for levity, even at a time like this. In truth, they had no better idea what would come of the boys than themselves. None of them had even seen Morgana. Alex, the oldest, was born after they crossed the planesgate, and Jasper and Lars didn’t come along until years later. Their sons had no idea what kind of world they’d left behind and why they were so different from the people in the world they inhabited. Adrianna and Mitchell had done their best to help them understand. They had taught them, of course, how to hone their skills as shifters, how to train for battle, and how to scent their mates when they found them. They had told them where they came from and that they would one day return there to find their mates, to live with other supernaturals like themselves. If the rebels haven’t lost the war. If it’s safe to go back. If we can even make it back at all. It was that overriding if, that element of doubt that had crept into her mind over the years, that she had left out of the stories she and Mitchell had told the boys, stories about a world so far away and left so long ago it had begun to seem like little more than a poignant fairy tale. They’d prepared the boys, all right, to be leaders, warriors, and diplomats, but she wondered how much the boys had taken these stories to heart as time wore on and they got used to the earthly plane, especially as she and Mitchell began to wonder whether they would

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ever need to return to Morgana at all. It was true that time worked differently on the earthly plane, but it seemed like an eternity since they’d left Morgana. She wondered how much time had passed there. A year? A month? A day? Adrianna sighed. It was useless to stand here wondering. She’d find out soon enough. She had always assumed the boys would come with them somehow, that they’d have to in order to find their mates. In all the time they’d been here, they had never encountered another supernatural being, and the boys had remained unmated. And now fate was beckoning for her and Mitchell to leave, and their sons weren’t here. They hadn’t even had a chance to say good-bye. Adrianna bit her lip to stop it quivering. “Do you think they’ll ever forgive us?” Mitchell smiled and stroked her arm. “We aren’t doing anything wrong. They’ll figure that out.” “And if they don’t?” “We did the best we could.” Had they? Adrianna had made nothing but trouble on Morgana from the moment she’d arrived there. Her people, the planeswalkers, were a fragile race, and as such they were usually as diplomatic as possible. Her own father, the leader of the planeswalkers, had made an alliance with Murdock, and she’d broken it. In exchange for their protection, Morgana planeswalkers were supposed to lure back to the plane warm-blooded creatures for the vampires to feed from. Werewolves were a popular choice, and many of them had been enslaved by vampire families, who kept them drugged and docile so they could continue to feed from them easily. Most of the planeswalkers, who had long been the only prey of the Morgana vampires, had little sympathy for the werewolves. As long as Murdock kept up his promise to protect them, it wasn’t the concern of the planeswalkers. The only trouble was that Adrianna had fallen in love with one of the werewolves.

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Now, she and the love of her life were about to find out what would come of the little rebellion she had started. She breathed in a long breath. Perhaps it was best the boys weren’t joining them. Lonely as they were without anyone else of their kind on this plane, they might be better off on Earth…or at least safer. “Are we mad?” “We’re in love,” Mitchell said thoughtfully. “People in love do crazy things.” “Like bring an army of werewolves back to their plane to start a revolution?” “Oh, sure. All the great couples do that. It’s practically a courting ritual.” Adrianna smiled. “No wonder the boys haven’t found mates yet.” “Oh, I’m sure they’ll each find a lunatic to call their very own.” “You are crazy.” “I don’t care.” “I love you.” “I love you back.” Mitchell pressed his forehead against hers and kissed her fiercely. Trembling, Adrianna broke his kiss, taking his hand as she stared off the cliff into the crashing waters beneath them. He squeezed it once to give her courage, and they jumped into the waiting abyss.

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Chapter One Ten years later (Earth plane time) Danny woke up screaming. At first, he could think of nothing but the nightmare. A mob of people, their faces contorted with disgust, had chased him through town until his every breath stung his throat and his legs felt like they were on fire. He couldn’t outrun them. He never could. His legs had given out under him at the Gas ’n Go, his knees soaked by the gasoline-covered pavement. He struggled to his feet, but there was nowhere to go. The mob had surrounded him. Then someone lit a match. The jarring florescent lights overhead brought Danny back to reality, and his face burned as he took in his surroundings. The busy diner. The late-night crowd. And the heat of several dozen accusing eyes from diners wondering what the hell his problem was. Glancing up at the clock, he could see it was almost midnight. He didn’t know how long he’d been out, but he sure as hell didn’t remember it being that late when he’d last looked at the clock. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the diner, only to sit and plan his next move, but as always, he had managed to once again find himself the center of a whole lot of unwanted attention. His mouth dry, he reached for his water, drained what was left in one gulp, and pulled his mouth away, panting for more. Wiping his mouth with his hand, he glanced over at his waitress and shrunk guiltily down into the booth as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Coffee?” she asked icily.

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Danny winced. “Could I get some more water?” She sighed, tapping her pen against her order pad. “This isn’t a rest stop, you know. You can’t just sleep in here.” Snorted laughter erupted from the booth across from him. Danny lowered his eyes and nodded slightly. “Coffee,” he mumbled, hoping he had enough money left over from lunch to cover the tab. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about leaving much of a tip, he thought ruefully as the waitress rolled her eyes at him and sauntered away. “Hey, Dick Van Winkle. Bad dreams?” Danny turned his head to ignore the snickers from the guys at the table across from him. They only looked a few years older than him, college students probably, and drunk, from the scent of them. He tried to keep his face from flushing as he stared determinedly at the clock on the wall. Eleven-thirty. That made almost ten hours since he took off, but he couldn’t chance coming home yet. Not until he was sure his dad was asleep. He’d still be miserable tomorrow, for sure, but today, there was no way Danny was chancing the man’s fury. Not after Danny’s latest fuckup. Danny still didn’t know if he could face his dad tomorrow, or what he would do if he’d finally screwed up badly enough to get kicked out of his house. He sure as hell didn’t have enough money to get an apartment, and guys his age weren’t exactly friendly with him. Or even tolerant, he thought, glancing at the self-satisfied table of guys snickering at him. “Hey, what gives, retard? Did the boogeyman scare you?” “Yeah, looks like he had a Nightmare on Queer Street.” “Shut up!” Danny growled. The hairs on the back of his neck had begun to stand up. With every ounce of restraint in his body, he urged them back down. He could not lose control, not now. Not again. Gritting his teeth to the sound of their laughter, he curled his fists into balls inside his hoodie and felt the sharp sting of his fingernails pressing into his palms.

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It was that name, queer. The same one Kirk Schoenherr had called him in gym class this afternoon. He’d had the same disgust painted across his face as he spat out the term, the same unthinking revulsion, as if the word signified something terrible and monstrous, but Danny knew what it was to be a monster, and the few fumbling, awkward gropings Kirk had given him before he came to his stupid closeted senses hardly qualified. What made him a monster was the way Danny had nearly clawed Kirk’s arm off when he’d finally taken a swing at him. He couldn’t let that happen again. Danny steeled his determination, staring down at the mostly empty table in front of him, save for his empty glass of water and the unrolled napkin of silverware. It was missing the sterling silver steak knife. Danny clutched at his backpack, remembering why he’d come here in the first place. He’d needed a plan, in case things got really bad and he needed to keep himself out of trouble. The knife was the best he could come up with. A cheese-covered french fry flew across the diner and landed smack on the side of his face. Setting his jaw, Danny wiped the fry away, wiping the gooey, melted cheese onto a napkin. This, apparently, was hilarious to the guys in the booth. “I don’t think he wants to eat it.” “He’d probably rather eat a dick.” Danny could feel the sharp edges of his canines brushing against his tongue already. Shit. His eyes would turn soon, that sickening, telltale yellow. Frantically, he drew the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, fumbling in his pocket for the few crumpled dollars he hoped to find there so he could get the hell out before he drew any more attention to himself. “What the hell is your problem?” Danny jerked his head up at the sound of the sharp voice. Its owner was tall and built, and although Danny had been certain from the sharp note of disgust in the man’s voice that he was referring to

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him, the freak, the mutant, his french-fry wielding assailants turned, guilty, toward the man as he approached them. “Did you just throw a cheese fry at him?” One of the guys snorted. “So?” “How old are you?” he asked, exasperation on his face as he scowled at the college-aged diners. Danny took in the breadth of his chest, the size of his biceps, his strong jaw and sandy hair, and no longer felt the raw, dark pull of his inner wolf struggling to get out. He was much more worried now about keeping another part of his body under control. The guys were starting to back down now, submissively dropping their gazes to the countertop and busying themselves with their fries. Not backing down, the man hunched down over their table and dipped his fingers into the basket to pluck out a fry for himself. Pausing just before he popped it in his mouth, he said, “You know what? Doesn’t matter. The thing is, I can tell you’re getting to that age where this sort of thing can be confusing for you, so I’m just going to save you some future embarrassment and set the record straight.” He plucked another two fries from the basket. He was still holding the first one. “High-fiving a big group of guys over a dick joke is about two steps removed from a circle jerk, so you should probably lay off the Judd Apatow movies for a couple years if you’re going to continue to use queer as an insult.” A group of girls at a nearby table burst out laughing at this. Danny couldn’t help but smile with them as he saw the guys’ faces redden with frustration. “You would know,” one of them muttered under his breath. A hand shot out and grasped his wrist with lightning speed. The guy winced in pain as the man squeezed his wrist and bent over to whisper against his face with a growl. “Actually, I would know, and I want you to apologize to him.” Danny’s face flushed as the man turned his gaze on him. He could

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have sworn he saw the his eyes flash with yellow before he turned back to his insulter. “Now.” “Sorry,” he yelped. “Yeah, sorry,” his friends chimed in. Danny shrugged, and the man let go. “Thank you. And for the record, retard isn’t very polite, either. Asshole.” And with that, he shoved the fistful of gooey cheese fries in the guy’s face and turned to walk away. Danny exhaled his held breath as he did, until the man turned back and said over his shoulder, “Come on. I’ll pay your tab.” Danny just stared after him, unable to move from his spot on the checkered linoleum. “What’s your name?” he managed to say, cursing the adolescent way his voice broke. “Lars,” he said. “What’s yours?” “Danny.” Lars smiled and took him by the arm. His hand was big and warm and much rougher than Danny had expected, and as he pressed against his side, he could feel the hard muscles of his abs under his shirt. Judging from the way he’d talked and his collared shirt and tie, Danny had figured him for a professor at the college, or maybe a doctor, but this wasn’t the body of any doctor he’d ever seen. The man was perfect. Danny didn’t know what the hell he wanted with him. He let him pay his ticket in silence, but by the time they left the diner, he couldn’t take it anymore. “Why are you doing this?” he blurted. Lars didn’t answer, seeming to ignore the question. “Do you have a place to go?” he asked. Now it was Danny’s turn to be silent. He blew out a long breath of air. Lars turned to his car, unlocking the passenger side. “I’d like you to come with me.”

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Danny still didn’t answer. He stared at Lars’s hand on the open door and watched him wait for the answer he still hadn’t been given. His blood turned cold when Lars finally cleared his voice and spoke. “It’s okay,” he said. “I know what you are.” **** “So what am I?” My mate. Lars wanted to tell him with every fiber of his being, but he heard the tremble in Danny’s voice as he asked him. It was best to play it cautious, he figured. Lars could do that. He was used to it. “Like me,” he said quietly. It wasn’t exactly a lie. The statement could mean any number of things—gay, a werewolf. And Lars still couldn’t be certain of either of those, only of the way the kid had prickled when those assholes called him queer and the flash of sharp white incisors he’d seen the kid bare at them for the briefest of moments. That and the way his mind had wrapped around the image, turning the flash of possibilities into one concrete message that pounded through his head. You are not alone. And no matter how long he’d waited to hear those words or how badly he wanted to believe they were true, part of him still wanted to doubt them. The truth was, he was scared shitless. Ten years ago, his world was shattered when his parents leapt from Ecstasy Rock and plummeted onto the jagged rocks beneath. A forest ranger saw them tumble off the cliff and called for help. They were driven to the hospital where they were still lying unconscious, on life support all these long years. When his parents jumped—left, the voice whispered, left for Morgana—he had embraced psychology, mostly as a means of searching for the truth in the fantasy stories his mother had told him. There were great thinkers, brilliant thinkers, like Aldous Huxley and William James and Carl Jung, whose studies pointed to the possibility of other layers of reality, of something larger than the objective,

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scientific world itself. In college and graduate school, he’d immersed himself in these studies, using them like a salve to treat the everdeepening pain in his heart. It was only when he graduated and began his practice that the possibility of another, darker truth began to burrow its way into his mind and take over. Every day, he treated sick people who clung to their delusions fiercely, wanting to believe the world was less difficult or lonely or frightening than it really was. As comforting as those fantasies were, they would always destroy a patient in the end if they continued unabated, just like his parents’ illusions had destroyed them. His parents had told him this day would come, that he’d find a mate, and he’d believed it, in spite of his better judgment. They had, after all, also told him it would happen once they drank the Kool-Aid and departed for some unearthly mystery world, and he could see how well that plan had turned out. Yet in spite of all his cynicism, a part of him had spent years waiting and searching for another wolf. That part of him, too, was bitter at the long, frustrating effort he’d spent with nothing to show for it but a string of meaningless fucks—no one who he’d given a damn about, let alone someone he could hope to understand him. So what the hell was this? “Are you from Morgana?” “I’m from Oklahoma,” Danny said, staring at him as if he had just sprouted another head and pointed to it. “But you came there with a planeswalker, right?” “Seriously, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” “Well, were you born this way or—” “Born what way?” Danny asked, his eyes narrowing. “I saw the way you acted with those guys,” Lars tried. “I saw you try to fight it.” Danny shoved his hands further into the pockets of his hooded sweatshirt as he repeated himself, this time enunciating each word with angry precision. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

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“I saw your teeth—” “Just shut up!” he roared, and Lars saw them again, the sharp white canines jutting out from underneath his top lip. Danny’s frightened eyes flitted up to Lars for a short, panicked moment afterward, and then he clasped a hand over his mouth. His chest rose and fell with each short breath he took. Slowly, he dropped his hand from his mouth. “I’m sorry,” he said. A nervous hand flew back to his head to run through his wild, unruly hair, making him look more wolfish than ever. He was gorgeous. “Don’t be. You don’t have to apologize for it.” Lars couldn’t take his eyes off the worried line of Danny’s brow, wanting so badly to trace it and brush his fear away. “I liked it,” he added quietly. Danny’s eyes shot up to his, but Lars couldn’t tell if it was fear or excitement he saw in them. He decided to try another tactic. “Why’d you let those guys do that to you? You could have scared the hell out of them.” “Like you did?” Lars didn’t know what had happened in the diner. All he’d known was the sudden, overwhelming need—the instinct—to hold him, to protect him. It had been years since he’d trusted his feelings, since he’d listened to his inner wolf. Preferring to trust the man inside him, Lars had come to rely on his ability to rationalize, to objectify, to think. It had so long since Lars had fully shifted, he had started to wonder whether he even could anymore. Until tonight. Danny shuffled his heels, moving his weight from one scuffed Converse to another. He was trying to decide whether to run, but Lars doubted he would get very far if he did. Something about Danny had awakened the animal inside Lars, and it took all the concentration he had to fight the impulse to tackle the kid to the ground and sink his teeth into his neck. To claim him. A rush of blood flooded to his cock at the thought, leaving his brain so fast he felt he would pass out. “How do you control it?”

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Lars didn’t think he could control much of anything right now. He glanced up at Danny, hearing the desperation in his voice, and he had to force himself not to read into the note of need inside it. He cleared his throat to answer. “Practice.” “Can you help me?” Danny blurted. “I mean…can you tell me how?” “Come with me,” Lars said. His voice was raw. “Please.” “Where?” “My house.” Danny’s eyes wandered over his body. Lars’s breath hitched as he waited. He was still holding the car door open. Find your mate and claim him, his parents had told him, but they hadn’t said anything about begging. “Okay.” He walked toward the car and climbed in, pulling the door shut behind him. Relief washed over Lars in waves as he walked over to the driver’s side. His mate. His mate was coming home. He had to bite his lip to keep from grinning like an idiot. His mate was staring at him as he settled into the car. His arm shyly grazed against Lars’s, and then receded. “You were right,” he said. “I don’t have anywhere to go.” “You do now,” Lars said, tentatively running a hand over Danny’s face to brush his hair away. His hair was soft. Danny held perfectly still, not responding. Not pulling away. If he could, Lars would crush Danny’s body to him and swallow him whole. The need to close the distance between them was so great, it was almost painful, but he settled for that single hand on the back of his head. “Can I stay awhile?” he asked. Tentatively, he leaned into Lars’s touch. His eyes closed, his breath slowing as if calmed by the gesture. “I don’t want to be a burden.” “You’re not.” Danny pressed closer against Lars’s hand, arching his head as he traced the shell of his ear with his thumb.

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“If you want,” Danny murmured, “you can do things to me. I won’t mind.” “What kind of things?” Danny shifted in his seat, and the back of his hand rested against Lars’s thigh. His cock pressed against the zipper of his jeans. “Sexual things,” he said. “You know. As payment.” Lars jerked away from him. “What do you think this is?” Danny’s eyes, lazily closed only moments ago, widened with fear. He dropped them to the floorboards, averting Lars’s eyes as he backed against the passenger door stammering, “I don’t know. I just–I mean, I thought…because you were—” “You’re my mate,” Lars said. Danny’s pale blue eyes shot back up in an instant to meet his. “Your mate,” he repeated, as if the word were precious to him. Lars nodded. “If you want to be.” Those eyes seemed endless in their depths, as if Lars could stare through them into his very soul. As if Danny wanted him to. The fear he’d previously seen in them—God, there was so much of it—was gone in an instant. He leaned across the seat and caught Lars’s lips on his. The gesture caught Lars off-guard, and he was overwhelmed by the sensations of Danny’s lips pressing against his, the weight of his body leaning into him, the movement of his arm as he carelessly threw it over the back of the headrest. Crushing his mouth against Danny’s, he fisted a hand in his hair, running another down the notches of his spine, feeling the ridges and dips of his body, as familiar to his fingers as if they were his very own. Danny groaned as Lars nipped at his lip and sucked his tongue into his mouth, his hand squeezing Lars’s thigh tightly as he pulled away, panting. He rested his head against the dip in Lars’s shoulder. “Should we go somewhere?” he whispered, his hot breath warming Lars’s ear. Lars nodded slowly. “Let’s go home.”

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Chapter Two Danny’s hands were practically shaking as he fumbled at Lars’s fly, struggling with the buttons to free the stiff cock straining them. Lars was licking his neck, and every nerve ending along his collarbone had come alive with want to feel the hot, wet muscle pressed against it. He could barely think straight, let alone will his fingers to move, but Lars’s action was slow and controlled as he slipped his palms under his shirt and pushed it over Danny’s head, stripping it off. It was nothing like the meager experiences he’d had before with Kirk. The few times they’d fooled around had been in Kirk’s room at his parents’ house. Terrified of being found out, Kirk’s awkward fumblings had been hard, fast, frantic…and embarrassing. He hoped to God he wasn’t proving himself completely amateurish with Lars. He pulled away from the assault Lars had started waging on his ear and tried to pull his head together. His breath came out in pants, and his hands fumbled awkwardly over Lars’s body, fisting his shirt, his pants, his hair. He stilled them at his sides, embarrassed, as he caught Lars staring at him. “You’re adorable.” “Shut up,” he said, embarrassed. The regret was almost instantaneous, but Lars merely cocked an eyebrow at him, his expression playful and amused as he closed the distance between them. “Did my mate just tell me to shut up?” he asked, tracing his fingers down Danny’s backside.

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Mate. He didn’t know what the word meant, but it thrilled him, awakened a dark and mysterious pull, some buried pocket of want he’d struggled to keep hidden. He knew what it was, that want, that need to be completed, to be whole. He wanted to regain what he’d already had, what he’d lost. What he had destroyed. Thomas. Lars squeezed his ass, his fingers brushing under his back pocket, toying with the patch underneath where the denim was soft and worn. Danny’s cheeks flushed with a wave of heat, equal parts guilt and arousal. “What is that?” Danny asked. “Mate. Is that a wolf thing?” He had meant it as a defense, an accusation, but that wasn’t how it came out. The words were ragged and dark and, he worried, laced with need. What the fuck was wrong with him? He shouldn’t be doing this. He’d only come here because he wanted that control that Lars had demonstrated so skillfully at the diner, that ability to tame the beast, to force it back inside him, forever, if he was lucky. Instead, here he was with a guy as monstrous as he was, ready to come in his pants the second he touched him. Danny choked down a dry swallow, willing that gnawing hunger inside him to go away. There was nothing sexy about it. “Do you like it?” Lars asked. Danny didn’t know whether Lars meant the word mate or the wolf inside him. Yes, he thought. God, yes. “No.” “Liar.” He pressed a finger to Danny’s lips as if to chastise him then forced it into Danny’s mouth. Danny sucked the digit eagerly, grateful as Lars swore with arousal. God, he wanted to please him. Something inside him did, anyway, a part of him that, despite his adolescent fumblings, knew exactly what to do. His wolf, he thought fleetingly, and felt another surge of pressure to his cock.

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Again his hands flew to Lars’s fly, this time stripping the buttons open and roughly pushing his pants and boxers down in one violent movement. Lars growled as his cock bounced against his belly, and he fucked another finger into Danny’s mouth. Danny moaned around the digits as he wrapped his hand around Lars’s cock, unable to suppress a smile at the size of it. His smile fell when he felt his canines straining to get out, to press into the finger he sucked on. Abruptly, he pulled away, desperate to force them back down. He couldn’t, though. Not with the way Lars was staring at him. Like he wanted to fix him. Fat chance, he thought, remembering that the werewolf was probably just as screwed up as he was. At least he could keep his beast hidden. He would have to figure that out if he didn’t want to ruin…whatever it was they were doing. Did Lars want to fuck him? His heart hammered in his chest as he watched him slowly stripping. “I’ve never done this before,” he said. “I don’t care,” Lars said, and Danny smiled at the way his voice wavered. Lars looked like he was maybe thirty. It was good to know he was nervous, although Danny didn’t know what the hell he had that could possibly intimidate him. Danny pushed his pants down and stood in front of him, naked. He ran a hand up Lars’s bicep. It was almost twice the size of his. He winced when Lars’s fingers, still slick with his saliva, traced down the line of his lower back and dipped into the crack of his ass. He sucked in a breath as first one finger, then another, slid past the tight ring of muscle. Danny whimpered, and Lars cupped his balls with his other hand. The distraction turned the burning in his ass into a kind of pleasure, and he moaned as Lars began to pump his fingers in and out of him, scissoring them inside his body. Danny crushed his mouth against his, but he couldn’t hold the kiss. The pressure building inside him was making him crazy, and he

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moved his mouth all over Lars’s face and neck, licking and nipping and sucking. “You like that, baby?” Danny’s smile pressed against Lars’s jawline. “Baby?” Lars dipped his fingers onto the intimate area under Danny’s balls. “Do you like it?” His fingers continued to pump in and out, hitting a soft spot inside Danny that made him whimper with want. “I like mate.” “Get on the bed,” Lars said hoarsely. Danny backed onto the bed, and Lars knelt over him, pressing the tip of his cock to Danny’s mouth to lap at it as greedily as he had the skin on his neck. He kept his attentions on that rounded cockhead a long time, nervous at first about taking it all the way in. Those lingering reservations vanished when he ran his tongue along the slit and tasted the drop of pre-cum there. The thrill of that tiny taste overwhelmed him, and he grabbed Lars’s ass to pull him closer, sucking him in to the hilt. Lars groaned aloud and he opened his mouth wider, urging him to fuck his mouth as he grasped the meat of his backside. He ran his tongue up and down Lars’s length, losing himself in the act until he felt the gentle touch of a hand on his head, urging him back. “Okay?” Lars asked, and Danny nodded, staring at the glistening member ahead of him, shining with his own spit. Lars ran his hands over his legs, pushing them back to situate himself between them. He rested his cock against Danny’s hole, and Danny felt himself tense, remembering how big it had felt in his mouth. “Will it hurt?” he asked. Lars dropped his gaze, nodding. “A little. At first.” But the swollen tip, still slick with spit, felt good against him. “Okay,” Danny whispered, and Lars pushed inside him. He took his time. Inch by inch, he slid in, and Danny could feel every nerve ending inside him come alive with the friction of the rounded cockhead pushing inside him. He had never been so aware of

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his body in his life. He did hurt, but more than that, he wanted. Lars’s big biceps framed his body on either side, and Danny grasped onto them, digging in his fingers as he pushed down onto Lars’s cock. Lars groaned, and with another thrust, he was filling him. Danny bit back a howl as he began a slow, pulsing rhythm in and out. His grip on Lars’s arms tightened, his nails biting into the skin while Lars groaned his encouragement. Danny grasped at his neck, his back, frantic to pull him closer as he bucked against him. It was as if something inside him had snapped. That dark, nameless force had taken over his body, and he was powerless to act against it. His head lolled back, banging against the headboard as he offered his throat to his mate. Lars leaned in, and he pressed his fingers against his face, wanting to feel his tongue, his teeth, his fangs on his skin. Danny felt his balls draw up as Lars sucked his fingers into his mouth and lapped at them, but that moan dissolved into a scream in an instant as he suddenly snapped his finger away. It was covered in blood. So were the sharp white points of Lars’s canine teeth. **** Danny’s frightened scream was the worst sound Lars had ever heard. Danny backed up against the headboard as if he meant to disappear inside of it, frantic to escape. His yellow eyes darted back and forth and his chest heaved as he fought against the shift, but Lars doubted this time that it was lust that was bringing his wolf out of him. He was afraid. His mate was afraid of him. He’d known it was too good to be true. “You bit me!” he shouted. “You fucking bit me, you…you…” Danny struggled to draw a breath, clawing at his chest with his hands. He yelped at the sharpness of his fingernails, staring at them miserably. Danny raised his eyes to meet Lars’s gaze, and Lars could

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see the same feral look in them he’d seen at the diner, full of misery, terror, hatred. What the hell had Lars done to draw that out of him? It had only been a small bite, nothing like the mating bite he’d been so close to giving. Danny had pulled away before he’d had a chance to deliver it. Because he doesn’t want you. Lars bit his lip, remembering the way Danny had pressed into him, how his wolf had clawed at him, beckoning, he’d thought, for Lars to mate with him. He wondered now how much of that had been real and how much had been merely a projection, a hopeful fantasy. Danny was the only wolf he’d ever encountered outside his family. Just because they were sexually compatible didn’t mean they belonged together, but Lars had wanted—needed—a mate so badly he had dreamed otherwise. How could he have misjudged things so badly? “I thought we were—” “We’re not.” Danny didn’t even let him get the word out. He jumped on the sentence as if he was afraid to hear the end of it. “You’re sick. I might be a…God, but I would never, not now, when we were…fuck. Fuck!” Lars stared at Danny, scared and shaking as he paced the room. He might have gotten his wolf under control, but it looked like doing so was giving him a panic attack. He stumbled as he stalked furiously past the bed, cursing with frustration. His fingers would not stop fidgeting. “Breathe through your nose,” Lars said. “What?” “It’ll help.” Danny leveled a glare at him, but his twitching fingers began to still as he heeded Lars’s advice. “What’s your last name?” Danny’s brow furrowed with irritation. “What?” he asked. His chest was still heaving.

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“Mine’s Craven. What’s yours?” “Cowan.” “Cowan,” Lars repeated. “What is that, Scottish?” “Why are you asking me this?” Danny blurted, exasperated. “Because I thought it would calm you down.” Danny’s cheeks reddened as he blinked at Lars. Anger flared in his eyes, but the panic was gone, Lars noted with relief. Sullenly, Danny dropped his eyes from Lars’s gaze. “I have to get dressed,” he said. He was breathing normally now. Lars nodded. So it was all over now. Danny would leave, and he would be alone again. He would return to his studies, to his books, to his calm, quiet life, and Danny would go back to… A stab of worry spiked in Lars’s chest as he wondered what kind of life awaited Danny. I don’t have anywhere to go, he’d said. What had he been running away from? At least he had calmed him down, he thought. At least he had tried to protect him…if only for one night. Silently, he gathered his clothes and slipped into the bathroom to dress. When he returned, Danny was standing in the middle of his bedroom, shifting indecisively on those Converse sneakers again. He hadn’t left yet. His eyes met Lars’s. “How did you know all that stuff to calm me down?” he asked. “Is that like, a wolf thing?” “It’s a psychologist thing.” Danny nodded, absorbing this. “Thought you might be a doctor.” “Not really. Just a very experienced listener in fifty-minute increments.” Lars smiled sadly. “Sure you don’t want to tell me what happened?” Danny stared at him. “You bit me. I didn’t…” He stopped himself abruptly. “You didn’t like it,” Lars finished, filling in the blanks. Better to say it himself, he figured. He didn’t think he could handle hearing it from Danny.

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“I didn’t think I could control myself,” Danny corrected him. Lars raised an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t want to turn into…” “You don’t have to control it with me.” “Yes, I do,” Danny said. “I don’t want to hurt you.” “You couldn’t,” Lars said. When Danny looked at him, incredulous, he added, “Did it hurt when I bit you?” Danny glanced at his finger, his eyes widening when he saw the small cut had already healed. “That’s your wolf. It’ll heal faster than you would as a human. One of the perks of shifting.” “There are no perks,” Danny muttered under his breath. He sat on the bed, his eyes fixed determinedly on the down comforter. Lars watched him as he nervously twisted his hands in it. He blew out a breath, ragged with emotion, then raised his eyes to look at Lars. “But have you ever, though? I mean, not another wolf, but…Have you ever hurt someone? You know, while you were…?” Lars shook his head. “Never.” Danny bit his lip, his eyes welling with tears. “Yeah. Me neither,” he said. Tucking a hand in the sleeve of his sweatshirt, he swiped at his face, leaving a wet, sloppy streak in its absence. “Dumb question.” Tentatively, Lars approached the bed and sat down next to him. He ran a hand up Danny’s back, and Danny drew in a long, shuddering breath before collapsing against him. He didn’t know what could have upset the kid so badly or made him hate himself with such determination. With years of experience reading people, Lars had learned to scent the type of inner, lurking hate that could lead to violence, but this kid didn’t have a drop of malice in him. Only fear. And that, thankfully, seemed to be dissipating now. How had Danny lived as a werewolf for so long and known so little about them? “Are your parents werewolves?” Lars asked. “No,” Danny said, his face hardening. “God, my dad…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. Whatever it was he wasn’t

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saying in that silence, Lars could tell just the thought of it had him pretty worked up. “No,” he repeated with finality. “Were yours?” “Yeah. Well, my dad was. My brothers, too.” “Must be nice,” Danny said wistfully. Lars nodded. “You’ll meet them tomorrow. Stay here as long as you want.” Danny looked at him nervously. “Even if I don’t want to…” Lars’s heart stilled. He wanted Danny here, for any number of reasons, but he didn’t know if he could keep his own desires under control in the meantime. It was already killing him, being so certain he had found his mate and not being able to fulfill that need, no longer being sure he would ever fulfill it. Would he be able to hold that need down, and for how long? A day? A week? A month? Forever? Lars glanced at Danny, shyly looking up from him from where he was curled up on the bed. He was scared, and tired, and unlike Lars, had lived without any other wolves for years. It was clear that whatever Danny’s situation with his parents was, he didn’t want to go back home. Lars bit his lip. Whatever his own needs were, they couldn’t outweigh the helplessness Danny was feeling. “Whatever you want to do,” Lars said, “I want you here.” The sides of Danny’s mouth crept up into a boyish grin so charming, it took all of Lars’s concentration not to cover it with a kiss right then and there. “Thanks,” he said quickly. “I won’t be long, I promise. Just a few days, and you won’t even know I’m here. A week, maybe.” He paused, as if considering this last statement. “Definitely no more than a couple weeks.” “A couple weeks,” Lars repeated weakly, staring at Danny curled on the bed beside him, his knees carelessly pressing against Lars’s thighs. “Great.” Danny smiled, settling his head on the pillow and letting his sleepy blue eyes drift closed. Lars watched him, overwhelmed with the desire to stroke his soft hair as he fell asleep. His hand rose of its own volition, but he stopped it when he remembered the promise he’d

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made to Danny only a moment ago. Whatever you want to do, he’d said, and he’d meant it. Even if Danny didn’t want to do anything at all. Tamping his desire down, Lars took himself, his wandering hands, and his erect dick downstairs to sleep on the couch. It was going to be a long couple weeks.

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Chapter Three “You want me to move in?” Danny wasn’t sure he’d heard that right. When Lars had said he could stay as long as he wanted, he’d figured he meant maybe a week, not a lifetime. Already he’d been here two weeks and had been waiting for the guy to get sick of him hanging around…especially with the way he’d been so careful not to touch him since their mating fiasco the first night. Lars glanced at him, his eyes shifting nervously over Danny’s gaze. “If we were to mate, yeah. I’d want you to move in here with me. It’s kind of a permanent arrangement.” Danny nodded, his throat dry. “Oh.” Anxiously, he shifted his bags onto a nearby armchair, resting them there as he stood in the study. Not only was he staying here now, but Lars had bought him clothes and other necessities, including a GED practice book to study while Lars was at work, since there was no way Danny was going back to school after what happened with Kirk Schoenherr. It wouldn’t be so bad, he reasoned, glancing at the fat, shiny practice book in the Borders bag. As little as he missed high school, it was lonely during the day when Lars was at work. Maybe this would take his mind off the eternal wait until he got home. And when he did, maybe he could cajole Lars into helping him out with it. Briefly, a series of embarrassing teacher-and-student role-playing scenarios flashed through his head, and his cock started to harden. That had been happening a lot lately. At first, all he could think of was his fear when Lars bit him that first night, that and his father’s

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voice in his head, telling him how wrong his instincts were and how important it was to ignore them. Now, he wasn’t so sure. Unfortunately, whatever spark had seemed to exist between him and Lars had gone out like a light after their last awkward encounter. Lars had been great to talk to and had taught him all kinds of useful information about being a werewolf. Everything, that is, except the elephant in the room—the mysterious subject of mating. Lars hadn’t mentioned it since that first night, and he certainly hadn’t tried to come on to him since then…no matter how much Danny had started to hope, against his better judgment, that he would. He couldn’t help it. He’d have to be numb to ignore the insane, driving pull that kept him half-hard all day waiting for him to get home and practically panting by the time Lars showed up, talked and joked with him for hours like some long lost friend or soul mate, and left him alone in his bed to go sleep on the couch. Danny choked down a dry swallow, just thinking about that pattern of behavior. Did Lars not feel the same for him or was he simply waiting for Danny to make a move? It was that same burning question that had led Danny to finally breach the topic of mating again, jokingly referring to Lars as his mate. That joke had gone over like a goddamn lead balloon, and now Lars was staring at him with such intensity he wished he’d never brought it up. “You don’t really know what mating is, do you?” Danny could feel his face growing hot. Unlike some people, he hadn’t had supernatural parents to explain it to him. “It’s not like high school sex ed classes exactly cover how to deal with being a gay werewolf. Mostly they just taught us how to put condoms on cucumbers.” As soon as the words escaped his mouth, Danny clapped his hand over it, remembering another intimate detail of that first night together. “Oh God,” he gasped. “You didn’t…I mean, shouldn’t we have used…? Oh, crap.”

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Lars laughed. “Relax. Superhuman immune system, remember? Kind of makes STDs out of the question for us.” Danny stared at him. “You’re kidding.” “Can you remember ever getting sick in your life?” Danny considered it. He couldn’t, thank God. He nodded, partly relieved, but partly more confused than ever. As far as he and Lars had gone together that first night, he didn’t know what this mating business involved, or how the mechanics of sex would work once things got wolfy. And he didn’t want to know, he chastised himself, but still…it wouldn’t hurt to have a little information. “So we’re not mated yet?” he asked Lars, staring at the endless rows of books lining the walls of the study. They seemed to go on forever. The ceilings were humongous. “No,” Lars answered his question. “There’d need to be a…release,” he said with some embarrassment. “Oh.” No wonder Lars hadn’t wanted to sleep with him since that night. Apparently, he’d not only given the guy the world’s worst cocktease, but he’d made Lars pull out in the middle of some sacred paranormal ritual. He hoped the werewolf version of blue balls wasn’t any worse than the human one. Although, if the perma-erection and the dull ache that had settled in the pit of Danny’s stomach since that night was any indication of how Lars felt, chances were he was probably pretty pissed about the way things went down. Danny glanced at him. “Sorry about that.” Lars shrugged, clearing his throat. “We’d also have to bite each other.” A raw heat spread over Danny’s face at the thought. Not sexy, he chastised himself, but the way his stomach seemed to drop into the floor at the sound of the words suggested otherwise. That familiar edge of panic rose up inside him as he tried to fight the feeling. It was crazy, how badly he seemed to want two totally opposite things at once. He felt like he was being split into two people, which, in a way, he kind of was. There was the wolf side of him that felt this

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insane, magnetic pull toward Lars, that had from the moment he’d seen him. And then there was the human side of him, repulsed by the wolf, the monster. He wanted so badly to give himself over, to release himself to that pull, but part of him was afraid what would happen if he did. He didn’t want to lose touch with the part of him that was still human…but looking at Lars, at his kind eyes worrying over him, he didn’t see anything monstrous at all. “You okay?” Lars asked. Danny concentrated on his breathing, inhaling and exhaling through his nose. It was a good trick that Lars had shown him. The guy knew his stuff. “You wanna ask me about my name again?” he joked. Lars cocked an eyebrow. “I can tell we’re going to have some pretty scintillating conversations if you stay here awhile.” Danny nodded, feeling the rush of relief as his heart rate returned to normal. “When I stay here,” he corrected. At the look of surprise on Lars’s face, he added, “It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.” “So romantic.” He shrugged, feeling that same heat crawling over his skin again, but this time it was from pleasure. Romantic. Was that what things were supposed to be like between them? His dad certainly wouldn’t have thought so. The guy wasn’t big on discussing his feelings or Danny’s, which he’d generally just seemed embarrassed by. He’d learned how to repress all kinds of things to please his father. The only problem was that for all his efforts, it had never really worked out. He sighed with frustration. Time to change the topic again, he thought, staring at those endless shelves of books. “So what’s with all the books, anyway? You guys like to read?” It was a sort of obvious question, but he figured maybe he could broach the subject of Lars tutoring him for the GED. The guy was crazy smart, and it was a major turn-on.

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Lars nodded. “Jasper, too, except he’s busier now with his business. Alexander doesn’t, though.” Danny nodded. That seemed about right. Alexander, Lars’s oldest brother, was super nice and down-to-earth, but he didn’t seem quite as brainy as Lars or his other brother, Jasper. “Where does Alex work?” Danny asked, curious. He’d already asked Jasper about his job once, even though he’d only really understood half of the response he’d gotten. Something about pharmaceutical sales…or marketing…or development…whatever that meant. “He doesn’t,” Lars replied. “Really?” Danny asked, surprised. It was usually just him alone in the house all day. He furrowed his brow. “So what does Alex do all day?” Lars grimaced, seeming uncomfortable for once with their line of discussion. “Train?” “For what?” “To be a warrior?” Danny continued to stare at Lars, but he didn’t explain any further, only winced, shaking his head. “It’s sort of a long story.” “You guys don’t get out much, do you?” Danny blurted. “We don’t exactly mix well with others.” The room fell silent, and Danny bit his lip. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean it like you were lonely or whatever.” Lars’s face grew red, and Danny knew he’d said the wrong thing. Lonely. He cursed himself, starting over. “Wait. No. I just meant…I barely passed Junior English.” That didn’t sound any better. Danny blew out a long breath, frustrated. “You must think I’m pretty dumb.” Lars shook his head. “I think you’re young. Not dumb.” “Yeah. And you’re like thirty.” “Twenty-eight,” Lars said, smiling. “Watch it.” “That’s still ten years older than me,” Danny teased. “Cradle robber.”

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“You know, back where I come from, werewolves are actually immortal. Well, sort of. At least, time doesn’t work the same, so…” “Really?” Danny asked. “Where are you from?” Lars clamped his mouth shut. He shook his head. “Texas,” he said. “Forget it. Are you hungry? Alex can probably make you something to eat when he gets down here.” Danny nodded. Alexander was a good cook, and Danny was hungry, but he was eager to spend more time with Lars alone. Especially alone, he thought, his brain already flipping through a series of good and not-so-good pick-up lines he might, if he wasn’t such a freaking coward, use to get Lars upstairs and into bed before he clammed up again. That hope died when he heard heavy footsteps clamoring down the wooden steps from upstairs. Danny didn’t have to look to know who it was. Alex was the only one who thundered down the stairs like that. The guy was as big as a tank. He smiled a big, shit-eating grin at Lars and Danny as he approached them in the kitchen, wearing his usual white T-shirt that stretched over his bulging muscles. Danny had been intimidated as hell when he first met the guy, but he’d turned out to be surprisingly nice and fun to joke around with. Danny liked him a lot. Alexander surveyed Danny, and then a wide grin spread across his face as he glanced over to Lars. “You won’t believe,” he said. “I knew it was true all along. Fucking you and Jasper. You two fuckers thought it was crazy, but I told you—” “Knew what was true?” Lars asked. Alexander smirked. “Jasper found a mate, too.” “Danny isn’t my mate,” Lars said quickly. “I’ve told you that. He’s just staying with us for…” Lars trailed off and his eyes raked over Alexander as if he was trying to gauge his expression. “You’re kidding, right? About Jasper?” Alexander shook his head. “They’re upstairs right now. And from the sounds of things…”

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Lars glanced at him. “And you’re sure they’re mates?” Danny bit his tongue. He could guess why Lars was so reluctant to believe, but Alex seemed to take his comment differently, continuing their cryptic conversation. “You still don’t believe, do you?” “I’m just trying to figure out who would end up mated to Jasper. He’s probably screwed every willing man in the state of Texas.” Danny’s head jerked up. Two weeks he’d been in the house, but he still couldn’t get used to the easy way the brothers talked about things together—everything. Even, apparently, their sex lives. It was all right, though, the way they joked around with each other like that. It made things feel comfortable around here, like a real family. Things had scarcely been like that with Danny’s parents, where everyone was always nervous and on edge all the time, always trying to keep everything so damn quiet, as if the truth would break them if they said it out loud. He winced, thinking about how bad things had been then, how lonely it was. When he’d taken the steak knife from the diner, it had been as much out of loneliness and desperation as anything else. Now, in a house full of people, he could hardly believe it had only been two weeks ago that things had been so bad. Maybe thinking about a more permanent arrangement here wasn’t such a bad idea after all, he considered, but that was as far as his line of thought went. All logic fled from his mind when a door upstairs flew open and sixty pounds of snarling, rabid wolf came bounding down the stairs. **** “Damn it, Ben!” Jasper shouted, following close on the heels of the wild young wolf as he stumbled down the stairs after it, stark naked except for the pillow he was holding over his cock. As he reached the foot of the stairs, he tackled the wolf to the floor, pinning him to the ground with both hands. He dropped his

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head within an inch of the wolf’s face. “Calm down,” he growled, vying for dominance with the animal squirming under him. For a few happy days when he was sixteen, Danny had gotten a job at an animal shelter. In spite of the beast inside of him—or perhaps because of it—he had always loved animals. His dad had done everything he could to discourage the trend, which he saw as entirely too close to accepting his own wolf, even forcing Danny to come along on his semi-annual hunting trips, and the job had lasted less than a week before he found Danny out and made him quit. In that time, though, Danny got to see a lot of animals—hurt animals, sick animals, unloved animals, even abused animals. He took a special interest in the abused ones, feeling a sort of kinship with them. The dogs that had come in with broken bones or missing legs always acted the same way, snapping and biting any time anyone would come near them. Danny could tell Jasper wasn’t trying to hurt the wolf he was struggling with, only get it under control, but the wolf seemed to view every touch as an attack, jerking away as if he were being poked by a hot iron. In his fearful state, the animal would probably bite a hand trying to offer it food or medicine or shelter, much as the dogs Danny had cared for had at first. Because they were too scared to be loved, he had had to take it slow with them, to show them they had nothing to be afraid of. Ignoring Jasper’s threatening growls, the wolf snapped at him, trying to bite the air. Jasper jerked back, and the wolf twisted out from under him, his nails clicking across the floor as he struggled to find his footing. It was heading straight for Danny. There were little patches, on his neck and one of his legs, that looked like they had been shaved, and he was thin, like he hadn’t been getting much to eat. He didn’t know what Jasper was doing with the animal or where he had found it, but he figured they were probably a lot alike. Both of them had had a rough past. Both of them were reluctant to accept the love that was right in front of them.

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Danny stared at it, his eyes wide, his face expressionless as the wolf snarled and jumped at him. Lars rushed to move between them, and Jasper followed closely on its heels, but neither of them could get a hold of the excited wolf to still his frantic jerking and snapping. “Stop moving,” Danny said, quiet but forceful. His eyes were on Jasper. “I think you’re scaring him.” Jasper shot Danny an indignant look, but held his ground all the same, and eventually the wolf calmed down, panting as he stared at Danny. Slowly, Danny held out one hand, and the wolf approached it, tentatively, then lapped at it once. Danny kept a close eye on the wolf as he carefully leaned in to stroke its head and ears. “I think he was abused,” Danny said, glancing up at Lars. “His name is Ben,” Jasper said ruefully. Danny shrugged. “Okay, I think Ben was abused. I used to work at an animal shelter.” “Oh, well, I guess you’re the expert then.” “You were a little rough with him,” Lars pointed out. “He’s a maniac!” “You’re the one who just ran screaming through the house naked,” Alexander said. Jasper scowled and adjusted the pillow, embarrassed. “Anyway, I like him.” Alexander smirked. “Very…energetic.” “Yeah, you should see what he did to my bedroom.” Danny cocked an eyebrow at Jasper, and he rolled his eyes. “Forget it. And while you’re at it, you can cool it with all the heavy petting.” Danny pulled away from the wolf, and he trotted out of the living room. Jasper watched him go, red-faced, and Danny smiled at Jasper, remembering what Alexander had said earlier. “Why? Is he your mate?” Jasper glared at him. “Not really the territorial type,” he ground out. “I guess we’ll see about that,” Lars muttered.

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Jasper shot him a look. “You’re one to talk.” Danny blushed, averting Lars’s eye. Jasper was talking about him and the fact that they hadn’t mated. Lars hadn’t cooled off toward him after all. He’d kept his distance respectfully after the last fiasco, probably to teach Danny, like he’d taught the wolf, that he could be trusted. Could he? Danny considered it, eyeing Lars. He’d looked at him with such concern in his eyes when the wolf, Ben, had come bounding toward him. Maybe there was more to this mating business than he thought. Alexander interrupted Danny from his thoughts, staring at Jasper’s shoulder. “Is that a mating bite?” Jasper frantically shifted the pillow. “Shut up,” he snapped. “Ben!” A sandy-haired kid who looked to be about Danny’s age sauntered into the study. “What?” Jasper gaped at him. He was wearing a button-down shirt and a pair of boxer briefs that, in spite of being a size too big for him, looked entirely too tasteful to be thrown on so casually. “Those are my clothes.” Ben folded his hands over his chest. “Yeah, well, you should put them on. Laundry room’s right over there.” “Did you think about asking first?” “And walk around the house like you with my cock hanging out? I didn’t want to be uncouth.” The red on Jasper’s cheeks deepened almost into a purple hue. “My room. Now. We need to talk.” Ben dismissively waved a hand at Jasper then nodded at Danny. “Nice meeting you,” he said before sashaying up the stairs. Jasper glared back at Lars before following after him. “Good luck with your mate,” he said bitterly. “He’s not my mate,” Lars called after him, but Danny drew a hand to his arm and smiled at him.

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“Yet,” Danny added, his heart racing at the look Lars shot him as he closed his hand around Danny’s. He let Lars pull him close, relaxing into his touch. It felt good, giving into that pull that had haunted him ever since he’d met Lars, as if some missing piece had been set right. Alexander raised an eyebrow at the two of them, but Danny was so content in Lars’s arms he hardly thought he could move a muscle. Well, maybe one muscle… “I’m gonna…go to bed,” Alexander said. “Think I’ll call it an early night.” He disappeared up the stairs, and Danny took a deep breath, glancing up at Lars. “So,” he asked, his voice laced with nervous excitement, “What do we do next?” **** Lars couldn’t get over the look that Danny gave him as he followed him up the stairs to his room. Not yet, he had said, followed by his coy question of how they might spend the rest of the evening. Lars could think of any number of cock-stiffening ways that might do the trick, but given the way Danny had reacted the last time they’d hooked up, the look of disgust on his face when he’d pulled his fingers away from Lars’s mouth, Lars worried that pushing too hard or too fast would send him running. He didn’t think he could stand to see Danny look at him like that again. Then again, Danny wasn’t exactly the scared kid he’d been two weeks ago. He had come to know his brothers and seemed to trust them, even knowing that they were shifters, too. All the same, Lars had worried that Danny would panic at the sight of Jasper’s mate, snarling and snapping in wolf form. Instead, he had taken control and handled the situation expertly. The kid had instincts, no matter how badly he fought them.

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Were there any other primal urges he planned to give in to tonight? Inwardly, Lars cursed himself for thinking of Danny that way. The kid had only just learned what mating was a few hours ago, thanks to the fact that he, unlike Lars, didn’t have a were-dad to explain it to him. In fact, from what Lars gathered, he figured Danny’s dad was probably more than a little responsible for how screwed up he seemed about being a shifter. He didn’t want to freak the kid out by pushing him too fast again, but his own stupid need to mate was pounding uncontrollably through his body. If that’s what it was, he reminded himself. Danny still hadn’t said he wanted to do it, not technically…but the flare of heat he felt as he saw Danny lean back on the bed stilled any thoughts of his skepticism. “So? What do you want to do?” Danny asked again, his thin body stretched taut as he leaned back on his elbows. Lars bit back a groan as an array of erotic possibilities lit up his mind. He wanted to flip his mate over and fuck him until he howled. He wanted to feel the hot flesh of his cock hitting the back of his throat as he moaned around it. He wanted to sink his teeth into the thin strip of skin peeking out from under his sweatshirt, revealing the curve of his hip bone. God, he was so thin. So young and naïve and vulnerable, he reminded himself. So knock it off. In spite of his thoughts—or, Lars worried, because of them—his truant dick started to swell. That was bad. He’d been good at fighting the inhumanly strong urge to be with Danny for a while, but as the weeks wore on, his resolve had started to break down. He didn’t know how much longer he could take it. “I’m going to take a shower,” Lars said. A cold one, he added mentally. “Yeah?” Danny asked, hooking his thumb into his jeans, pushing them down so that a little more skin was revealed. The side of his lip curled up in a cocky half-grin.

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Lars’s breath hitched. Either the kid was the world’s most sadistic cocktease, or he was trying to tell him something. He blew out a breath. “Afterwards, I’ll go sleep on the couch,” he said, then added quietly, “if you want.” His breath hitched as he waited for an answer to the unspoken question there. Danny reached a hand out and took Lars’s in his, pulling him close until his cock was less than an inch from his face. Lars stood unmoving as Danny tugged at the bottom of his shirt, pulling slowly until he had freed it from his pants. Lifting up his shirttail, he bent over the skin above his waistband to kiss and suck the skin there. Finally, he pulled his mouth away, glancing up at Lars. “And if I don’t?” he asked. Lars took a dry swallow, finally able to find his breath. “If you don’t, I think my brain is going to atrophy from lack of oxygen.” Danny chuckled. “How about that shower?” That was all it took to snap the thread of Lars’s resistance. Clothes were stripped off in frantic, hurried movements as they walked into the bathroom, their hands groping all over each other. Lars could barely bring himself to break their kiss to turn on the shower and pull Danny into it. Hot jets of water rained onto his skin, and between the flush of his sexual need and the steam from the shower, Lars felt like he might melt into the floor at any minute. When Danny dropped to his knees in front of him, all rational thought fled his brain. It was such an unfamiliar feeling. His mind was drowning in the assault of so many emotions. Lust. Fear. Joy. Worry. Need. Love? It was too much to process all at once. For the first time in Lars’s life, he was overwhelmed by feeling, not thought. Or maybe the blood had just drained from his head in light of his rock-hard erection. He’d had other guys before, in college and graduate school mostly, but the sensations he’d felt with them were nothing like the

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ones he was feeling now. The sex he’d had back then had been almost a scientific curiosity. Oh, sure, he’d been lonely, too, but he hadn’t imagined sex would ever have cured that. Getting closer to another person had only ever served to remind him how different he was from everyone else. He could never bear to be in a relationship before because seeing a human lover, laid bare and vulnerable, had only ever made him remember how much he had to hide. The wet strands of Danny’s hair brushed Lars’s thighs as he worked his cock in and out of his mouth. Lars ran his hands through the dripping locks, loving the way they ruffled against his touch, making him look dark and wild. Like a wolf. Like me. The very idea brought a growl to his lips. Shit, he thought, trying to get a hold of the need that threatened to consume him. It was an insurmountable task. Danny’s movements were quick and hard and marked with an adolescent urgency that had Lars panting with need. He felt his ass cheeks tense as Danny gripped them with both hands, dipping his fingers into the crack. When he thrust two fingers in, swallowing around Lars’s cock, he nearly came right there. “Fuck,” he breathed, pulling out of Danny’s mouth. “I can’t take this.” It was too much, being this close to him, needing so badly to claim him and being unable to. His wolf prickled inside him, wanting to get out. Lars gritted his teeth, forcing it down as he took a step back. Danny sat on his haunches, chest heaving, and looked up at him. His eyes were laced with worry. “Did I—” “Not you,” Lars growled. “I can’t control it.” Danny looked up at him. His eyes flashed with yellow, and he bit his lip. His mate. He would do anything to still the sadness in those eyes, and that meant getting out before he did anything he would regret. Lars reached around him to turn off the shower, but the small voice he heard beneath him stilled his movements.

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“So don’t.” Danny pulled himself to his feet, bringing his slick body against Lars’s. He could feel his cock, rock hard, pressing against his own, signaling his desire, but doubt still flooded Lars’s brain, remembering the way he panicked the last time they made love. But there was no panic in his eyes now as he crooked his head into Lars’s neck and slowly began to lap at it. Lars’s canines pricked at his gums, itching to drop down. “You know what that does to me?” Danny nodded, nipping at the skin of Lars’s neck. “Turn around,” he said. Danny turned, the slick globes of his ass pressing against his cock. Lars dipped his fingers into his crease, and Danny whimpered, pushing back against them. A thrill raced through Lars when he forced a wet finger through the slippery hole, feeling it tense momentarily then relax as Danny blew out a breath. He pulled out and added another finger to it, pumping in slowly and out again. Danny brought his hand around to masturbate himself, but Lars pushed it away. “Mine,” he growled, replacing the hand with his own, running his hand over the stiff, wet cock. “So take me,” Danny panted. Lars roared as he pushed his cock into Danny. He thrust into Danny, quick and deep, seating himself fully inside him. He had meant to take him slower, to be careful, but at the sound of the words, he’d lost all semblance of control. He pulled out more carefully, but Danny whined at the loss, thrusting insistently back against him. “Harder,” he growled, shouting as Lars thrust back into him. Danny braced himself against the wall as Lars rocked in and out, using his hand to pump Danny’s cock, speeding up to match the mounting tension inside him. With his other hand, he captured Danny’s wrists, pinning his hands to the wall. His balls drew up when

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he heard Danny’s fingers click against the tile and saw the short, spiky claws sprouting from the nail beds. “Gonna come,” Danny panted. Lars lowered his mouth to Danny’s neck and Danny turned his head to the side, nipping and sucking at his bicep. When Lars felt the rush of his impending orgasm and the sharp edge of his teeth break his skin, he bit down. A rush of emotions flooded into him as he felt the coppery rush of blood on his tongue. It was as if some part of him that had for years laid dormant and waiting had suddenly been switched on inside his soul. For first time, he realized how cold he was, how shut off he’d become in the years he’d spent trying to analyze, capture, sterilize everything. Now he felt alive. He was overwhelmed by how much he could feel. At first, it was all joy and contentment, lust and love as he came inside his lover. But as his bite deepened, he felt it edged with the reminders of Danny’s former life. There was shame, and guilt, and fear. So much fear. Was this what Danny felt all the time? Lars had always made such an effort to stay calm, to maintain order, to be stable. As he felt himself drowning in those emotions he had always managed to keep at bay, he wondered if fate itself had bred that carefully cultivated control into him to keep his mate from panicking. As Danny lapped at the swiftly healing bite on his arm, he hoped his blood would have that effect on him. Lars brought his hand up to Danny’s chin, lifting his head to look at him. The storm that had once raged in his eyes was calmer now. Lars pressed his lips to Danny’s, the traces of their blood mingling together as the jets of hot water washed it away. Danny broke the kiss, giggling. “You taste good,” he said, turning to face Lars as he leaned against the wall of the shower. “Jesus. Is it going to be like that every time?” Lars shook his head as he shut off the water. “I don’t think so.”

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“I don’t think I could take it if it was.” Lars furrowed his brow, and Danny smiled at him, his cheeks reddening. “It was kind of…um…intense. Do you feel different?” Lars nodded. “Do you like it?” Danny smiled. “Yeah,” he said, closing his eyes. His expression was serene and blissful. “I think I’m in love with it.”

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Chapter Four Lars wasn’t there when Danny woke up. He remembered falling asleep together. He’d been so exhausted after what happened in the shower that he’d almost passed out right there. Instead, he’d curled up into the big arms of his mate and allowed him to carry him into the bed. He remembered feeling those arms wrapped around him as the room darkened and faded, remembered how peaceful that touch had made him feel while he drifted into oblivion, but they were not holding him now. His heartbeat quickened when he realized why. This wasn’t Lars’s bed. Danny jerked his head around him, surveying his surroundings. He was in his own room at his parents’ house, but how the hell had he gotten here? He wanted Lars, wanted to find that wonderful peace again that had flooded his body when he bit into him. When they became mates. He knew what it meant now, that word. It meant Lars was a part of him, that he could feel his emotions coursing through him, his instincts driving his movements. He thought he could almost hear his voice in his head. The need to be with him, the pull, was so intense he felt himself shifting just to smell his scent. For the first time in his life, he accepted the pull and shifted, letting his wolf pick up the trail of Lars’s scent. He ran. Before he knew it, he was in a forest. The woods were deep, and he let his wolf guide him through it, but he could still hear Lars’s voice calling his name, and it wasn’t getting any louder.

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Where was he going? Finally, he came to a clearing, slowing as he made his way through the ring of trees surrounding it. His every muscle stiffened when he saw who was waiting there for him. Thomas. His twin. He had only been five years old the last time he’d seen him, the time, the time he couldn’t remember, but his body wasn’t that of a child’s anymore. He looked just like Danny. The same messy patch of brown hair. The same square jaw. The same thin frame. He’d grown up somehow, but there was something wrong about it, something wrong with him. He wasn’t breathing. The marks were all there, the bites, the scratches, the awful rips and tears in his flesh bleeding through his thin white T-shirt. Danny’s heart pounded. He couldn’t let Thomas see him like this. Not as a wolf, a monster. He shifted back into human form, his head bowing, embarrassed to meet his brother’s eyes. “Who were you looking for?” Thomas asked him. “You seemed surprised to see me.” Danny’s head jerked with surprise as he heard Lars’s voice calling for him again. Could Thomas hear that? He watched Danny, hawklike, his eyes boring into him as if he were trying to invade his soul. “You haven’t been keeping secrets from me, have you?” Thomas asked. “We have to stick together, the two of us. We’re the same.” It wasn’t true, though, Danny thought bitterly. Thomas wasn’t the menace he was. He was perfect, and he was gone. “We’re not,” Danny said. “Is that what you think now?” Thomas asked. “That must be why you had to get rid of me.” Snapshots from another life flashed through his mind, broken and fragmented images that never crystallized into a complete picture. These were the things he never remembered when he awoke, the

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things he tried desperately to hang on to, but never could. He tried now to cling to the images, no matter how painful they were. The round curve of Thomas’s mouth as it contorted in pain. The thin streaks of red across his neck. The inhuman bend of his spine as it was snapped. “I would never do that,” Danny said. “Prove it,” Thomas said, stepping toward him, his eyes wild and manic. His hand wrapped around Danny’s wrist. It felt cold and dead. Instinctively, Danny wanted to pull away, but he willed himself to be held by Thomas. He owed him that much. “Prove that you care about me.” Thomas’s hand gripped Danny’s wrist tighter. The tension rippled through his whole body. He didn’t feel like he could breathe. “You’re gone,” he whimpered. “I’m not,” Thomas said. “I’m right here. You can always find me here. You can bring me back, you know. All you have to do is prove it.” Danny’s eyes flashed over to him. For so long, he had lived with an empty void inside him, an absence that had threatened to consume him. It was all he had ever wanted to do, to bring Thomas back, to make it seem like he’d never gone away. But things were different now. Weren’t they? “Prove that I’m still inside you. That you never let me go.” “What do I have to do?” “I need you to go to your mate.” Thomas smiled, and Danny looked down at his hand. It had wrapped around something hard and wooden, something that Thomas had pressed into his hand. The handle of a knife. The steak knife he had stolen, Danny noticed. The silver one. He could hear Lars’s voice getting closer now, could smell his scent. When they mated, something inside him had snapped, broken off. He had welcomed the peace he felt washing over him, invading

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his body, but what had he given up to receive it? It was as if some strange entity had lurked inside him, curled into a tight white ball of pain, and he had let it unravel, let it go. He could see clearly now that that entity had a face and a name. Thomas. His twin. His other half. He could make something out in the woods behind Thomas, a rustle in the trees where Lars was making his way toward him. Danny’s fingers gripped the knife until his knuckles turned white. He wanted to drop the knife, but he couldn’t will himself to do it. It was part of him. He needed it. Thomas stroked a hand across his face, the same face he saw reflected in front of him, and disappeared. There was only Lars now, and he was coming closer. Danny knew what he had to do. His chest heaved, and he felt the panic rising inside him again. This time, he did not let it go. **** Jasper stood on the back porch, running his thumb over the worn pack of Camels in his hand. They were his emergency cigarettes. He hadn’t intended to smoke them, of course, having only quit smoking earlier that night, but God, did he need one after the day he’d had. He drew one out of the pack and pressed it against his mouth, enjoying the night’s serenity. It was likely not a sensation he’d experience for quite some time. Four hours ago, he had gone to meet with “ex-PhD, current BioRevolutionary” Alan Pierson, a crackpot scientist who had informed Jasper’s company he’d found some sort of wonder drug, a miracle vaccine for practically every ailment imaginable. He’d expected an evening of politely nodding at the weirdo’s diatribes on the state of American health care, but Jasper’s aloof attitude had changed when he saw the scientist’s source for the vaccine—the superhuman DNA of a scared, shaking werewolf named Ben.

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A wolf who was now, in spite of Jasper’s best efforts to avoid it, his mate. Ben had fallen instantly in love with his “savior,” as he referred to Jasper, and despite his best efforts to convince him he wasn’t one, Ben wasn’t taking no for an answer. All Jasper had wanted was to do the honorable thing for once and help the poor kid. Now they were mated, and Jasper was privy to exactly what a jumbled mess of emotions was running through the kid’s head after his years of abuse. Jasper hadn’t the slightest idea how to cope with those feelings, let alone help Ben deal with them. He already had his own screwed up past weighing down on him. Absently, he dove his hand into his pants pocket for the Zippo lighter he always carried there. He felt for it in vain. Jasper checked his other pocket, and his brow furrowed with renewed frustration when he remembered Ben sneaking a hand into his pocket when he tried to grope him in the car earlier. The little bastard had stolen it out of his pocket. Jasper’s frustration rose for a moment, but receded when his mind continued to replay those first fumbled gropings. Even as he’d resisted them, trying for the first time in his life to ignore his standard fuck-first-and-ask-questions-later impulses, he’d enjoyed the hell out of those touches. He couldn’t help it. His mate was sexy as sin. Sighing with resignation, he plucked the cigarette from his lip and dropped it back into the pack, unused. He supposed he could just raid the fridge instead. He’d always suspected his figure would go to shit the day he settled down, anyway. Closing the screen door behind him, he headed into the kitchen and flipped on the light, surprised to see Lars’s mate…or friend…whatever he was, standing at the kitchen table, rooting through his backpack with disturbingly single-minded resolve. “Danny?”

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Danny didn’t say a word to him, didn’t even turn around as he pulled away from his backpack, not bothering to zip it back up as he turned with zombie-like determination back toward the stairs. “Nice chatting with you,” he said toward the disappearing shadow. Good lord. It had been sufficiently awkward seeing Danny earlier when Jasper was ass naked and unable to get his mate under control, but worse still, the little bastard had gone and shown him up, calming Ben into submission without even breaking a sweat. At the time, it had ticked him off a little, but admittedly, part of that had been jealousy. Jasper’s neurotically perfect shrink brother just had to find someone as annoyingly well-adjusted as he was while Jasper had ended up with a head case for a mate. Now, watching the kid shuffle somnambulant into the living room like an extra in a George Romero movie, Jasper was beginning to reevaluate that initial appraisal. Lars had implied in the past weeks that Danny was “going through a difficult adjustment period,” but everyone was troubled or repressed or neurotic in Lars’s estimation. At least, that was what Jasper had thought at the time. Now he wondered if Lars wasn’t right. If Danny had seemed like the fucking Zen master earlier, it was likely only because he was repressing some pretty serious shit. Obviously, Danny had a few quirks of his own he was hiding. Yet another thrilling drawback Jasper could expect after being bound for eternity to someone he’d only just met. Ker-thunk. Ker-thunk. Ker-thunk. Jasper wasn’t sure what it was about the noise that turned his blood cold. He cocked his head to listen, but couldn’t make out what it was. Wandering absently in the direction of the noise, he followed it to the staircase, and terror seized his chest at what he saw. Danny was the one making the noise as he walked slowly, trancelike up the stairs. His left hand gripped the banister, but his right dangled loosely at his side, and with each step he took, a thunk sounded from the wood beams as the object in his hand brushed

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against each one. The glint of light from the kitchen reflected off the shiny, metal surface. Danny was holding a knife. He could swear the blade was silver. Jasper shifted and bounded up the stairs, tackling Danny onto the top step and knocking the weapon out of his hand. Danny wrestled with Jasper, trying to squirm out from under him, his eyes wide and glassy as he grasped for the knife. He succeeded in grabbing it, and Jasper snarled at him, his fur prickling on his back as he guarded the door to Lars’s room, the door that Danny was heading for. Again, he lunged at Danny, but he didn’t want to hurt him. Issues or no issues, he was still Lars’s mate. Danny kept moving, shoving him out of the way to push past the door, nearly knocking his hand into Jasper’s teeth as he snapped at him, trying to get him to drop the knife again. Jasper growled, feeling the jittery surge of panic coursing through his body. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He had to make him stop. He heard a creak as Lars shifted his weight on the bed, tossing restlessly. He moaned in his sleep, a horrible anguished sound emerging from a world he seemed frantic to escape. Jasper let out a howl, loud and low and long, hoping to wake him up as he continued to snap and lunge at Danny. In seconds, Alexander burst through the door, his every muscle moving in harmony to lunge at the kid. He pinned him onto the floor, kicking and flailing as Alexander wrenched the knife from his hand and shoved it away. Jasper watched it skitter across the hard wood floor and slide under the bed, and he huffed out a breath. The nightmare was over. That was when he heard Lars’s scream. **** It was the worst nightmare Danny had ever had. He’d had them every night from the time he was five. Murderous mobs chased him as he fled, cornering him, surrounding him, jeering at him, torturing him as he begged for his stupid, sorry life. Even a

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monster, it seemed, would plead for its life, but deep down Danny knew, even as he fought for survival, that he didn’t deserve it. That knowledge only made the dreams more horrific, but this time, he was the attacker, the one hell-bent on destruction, only his victim had scarcely deserved the cold edge of fury he had directed at him. He had tried to kill his mate. Something had pulled the knife from his hand, but he had continued to flail at him, to grasp for his throat and claw at his chest, desperate to hurt him any way he could. It was Lars’s scream that had finally shaken him from the dream, pulling him out of the woods and through the darkness. He blinked his eyes as he felt a pressure on his chest and arms, holding him down, and he jerked against it. It was Alexander, crouched over him, straddling his chest as his big hands pinned Danny’s wrists to the floor. He recognized the look in Alexander’s eye. Not fearful, exactly— he must have known he could restrain Danny. It was not angry, either—the weight of his hands on his wrists was firm but controlled. Alexander had been careful not to hurt Danny, which meant he didn’t want to punish him. No, it was something more like worry in his faroff expression, which had already dismissed the present and looked onward to what might happen next time, what would happen if he slipped up and let his guard down. It was the same one his parents had given him as a child, but he knew what they were afraid of. What had he done to make Alexander so uneasy? Catching Danny’s eye, Alexander eased off of him. “Morning,” he said, but the joke fell flat. A terrible tension still hung in the room. Jasper stood behind Alexander sheepishly, and the way his eyes darted away from Danny’s afterward spelled out exactly how bad the situation was. Danny glanced around the room slowly, afraid to lift his eyes over to the bed. It was plain enough that he had ruined things with Jasper and Alexander. That hurt, but he could handle it. He didn’t think he could stand to see Lars turn away.

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“What happened?” he asked. “What did I do?” It was Jasper’s voice that answered him. “You were sleepwalking,” he said, and stopped there. But that wasn’t the whole story, not by a long shot. He’d been stupid to think he could be happy. He had run away from home, but it didn’t matter. There were things buried inside him that he couldn’t escape, things that would always be with him, would always find a way of resurfacing, no matter what each day would bring. Here, he had found someone to love him, but at night, he’d return to the lonely, frightening corners of his mind. Danny hugged his knees to his chest. His eyes fixed on a great, long gash in the polished wood floor, so old the wood was worn and smoothed over it. He rubbed his thumb against it, once, twice, again. Try as he may, it would not go away. “Why were you holding me down?” They all must have seen what he’d done to make Alex react like that, but no one wanted to answer him, not even Lars. He’d thought Lars’s rejection would kill him, but the silence was miserable. He had to do something, say something, at least, even if he couldn’t look at him yet. “I had a nightmare,” Danny said slowly, “that I attacked you.” The words fell out of his mouth, hard and heavy. It hurt to say them, but that hurt was nothing compared to the jab of white-hot terror he felt when his eyes fell on the glint of the silver blade lying under the bed. He had used the knife. It was real. He’d actually tried to kill him. A hurricane of emotion welled up inside him, but it ground to a dead, cold stop when he heard Lars’s response. “Your nightmare,” he said. “I remember. I was there, too.”

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Chapter Five “How is that possible?” Danny asked, his eyes never leaving the floor. He was still sitting there on the hard wood, in the exact same position Alexander had pinned him to, even though Lars had long since sent him and Jasper out of the room. Lars had hoped that once his brothers were gone, when it was just him and his mate, it would be easier for Danny. He had hoped that some of the terrible tension in the room would dissipate, but it was still there, palpable and real as the knife he had tried to attack him with. Alexander had taken care to remove it when he left, his eyes giving a cautious glance to Lars to ensure it was okay to leave him there, as if the warrior inside him distrusted leaving his brother in what he judged to be a dangerous situation. As if his mate would try to harm him. Lars could still remember the look in Danny’s eye as he had lunged at him with the knife. He shook his head to clear it of the memory, focusing instead on the question Danny had presented him. But he did not know the answer. He looked at his mate, helplessly. He could feel the fear still coming off of him in waves, just as poignant, if not more so, than it had been in his dream. Like a scared child, Danny needed Lars to do what he had always done best, to be the voice of reason, to turn on the lights and say to him that the demons that visited him at night were not real. That there was nothing in the closet. That there was nothing under the bed. That it was only in his head. Except Lars had seen it, too.

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“You don’t know,” Danny stated quietly. He hadn’t bothered to wait for Lars’s response, hadn’t even phrased it as a question. “I thought you were supposed to be some big genius or something.” “No,” Lars replied, prickling at the hateful way Danny had spat out the words. “I don’t. I’m sorry, but I’m not the world’s foremost expert on dream sharing. For Christ’s sake, I’m not some New Age spirit guide, I’m a student of psycholog—” He stopped cold. For the first time in what felt like hours, Danny lifted his eyes to meet his. “Do you know what the word psychology means?” Danny quirked an eyebrow at him. “Don’t you?” Lars dismissed his sarcasm with a wave of his hand. “Smart-ass. It means study of the soul. Something a lot of people in my profession would like to ignore, but—” “What about you?” Lars blew out a breath, staring at his little mate on the floor. Up until two weeks ago, he’d been an expert in masking his own feelings, his fears, from others, to keep the storm of his own emotions still so he could focus on his thoughts. Now that he’d mated with Danny, there was no hiding from him, not even in his own mind. Danny seemed to instinctively take hold of his every uncertainty, his every anxiety…and maybe his every dream. “There are a few people in the field, not many, but a few, that believe that dreams are a powerful window into the human soul,” Lars continued. “The way that certain motifs, certain images, crop up again and again, across time and distance and different cultural backgrounds—” “What are you saying?” Danny interrupted. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe dreams aren’t expressions of the subconscious. Maybe they’re an expression of the soul. And our souls are mated now.” “Jesus.” Danny stood and paced the room, his hands dancing and jumping at his sides. Finally he stopped in front of Lars on the bed.

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“Well, that sucks for you, because my dreams?” He shook his head, guilt and anxiety written on his face. “Let’s just say there’s a lot more where this one came from.” Lars smiled weakly at Danny as his feet took flight again across the floor. “You dream of killing your gay werewolf lover every night?” Danny turned on him, venomous. “Stop it! Stop being so calm about everything!” His bottom lip twitched, and he bit it to stop its shaking. “I tried to kill you,” he whispered. “Doesn’t that hurt you even a little bit?” Danny collapsed on the bed, furiously wiping at the tears that brimmed in his eyes. Lars moved behind him, placing his arms around his shoulders, and his sobs broke. He wrapped his arms tight around Danny’s waist, feeling him jerk and shake with each new sob. Lars smoothed a hand over his hair. “I’m not afraid of you,” he whispered. “Yeah, well, you should be.” “I trust you,” Lars said. “It’s my job to read people. Sometimes to tell whether they’re dangerous or not. And I’m good at it. Even when I don’t have a supernatural pipeline to their hearts.” Danny’s chest heaved. He wasn’t crying anymore, but he shook his head. “Do you know what happened before you found me? I ran away from home because I couldn’t stand to see my father. I got in trouble at school, and I didn’t want to see him once he found out.” “You were afraid of what he’d do to you?” Danny shook his head. “I was afraid of what I’d do to him.” “You’re not dangerous—” “I hurt somebody!” he exploded, pulling away from Lars. “We got in a fight, and I couldn’t control my wolf. This kid, Kirk Schoenherr…for a while, we used to fool around together after school.” His face reddened. “It was stupid. I didn’t want him. I just didn’t want to feel so alone. You know?” Lars nodded. He knew that feeling.

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“Then, one day, his little sister walked in on us. It was only for a second. I don’t even think she knew what she was seeing for sure, but…that was the end of it. The next day, he cornered me in the locker room during gym class. Him and his stupid friends. They called me every stupid, ignorant name there is. Fag, cocksucker, queer…and it was just the way he said it. Like it was the worst thing he could possibly say. Like he wasn’t one himself. “I just snapped,” Danny said, wiping at his eye again. He squeezed both eyes shut. “I clawed at him, and I scratched him. If I’d shifted all the way…I don’t know what would have happened.” Danny’s shoulders shuddered with another long convulsion. Lars wanted so badly to comfort him, but Danny wouldn’t let him touch him. Right now, he wouldn’t even look at him. He had to get his attention, and he could only think of one way to do that. “Is that why you had the silver knife?” Danny’s eyes snapped over to his. “I wasn’t going to use it,” he said defensively. “So why’d you have it?” Lars asked. “You brought it in here, right? We don’t keep silver in the house. And you never got rid of it, even after—” “I was saving it,” Danny said, pain lacing his voice. “I didn’t know if you were going to get sick of me and kick me out. Then where would I go? What would I do, go back to my parents? They hate me.” He dropped his eyes to his lap again. “I just didn’t want to be a burden to anyone.” “Do you really hate yourself that much?” “That thing isn’t me,” Danny snapped. “And if you wanted to help me, you would teach me how to get rid of it. Or get the hell away from me before it hurts you again.” “But it wasn’t your wolf that tried to hurt me.” Danny gave him a hard glare. He was angry, but he was listening. Lars continued. “I saw what happened before you attacked me. You weren’t shifted. You

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were human, and you were talking to someone who looked just like you.” “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Danny mumbled. “Yes, I do. I did my master’s thesis on survival instincts in dream research. Do you know what I found out? Every night, when people go to sleep, they relive certain experiences from the day, repeating them, over and over, during each REM cycle, trying to do over the things they got wrong during the day. Trying to get those things right. They help us mature, to adapt better to society. And in order to do that, we have to give up certain idiosyncrasies. “When you have a nightmare, what you’re experiencing is that instinct to adapt and mature gone awry. For one reason or another, you perceive the world as a threat to you. You think it’s trying to get you to give something up you can’t let go of. Or change you in a way you don’t like.” “Like how?” Lars’s heart clenched. He didn’t want to say this next part, but the scientist in him, that self-satisfied bastard so enthralled with his own thoughts and ideas, couldn’t help it. “Like mating with me. You felt yourself change when it happened, didn’t you?” Danny nodded. “I think part of you is resisting that change. Violently.” Danny screwed his face up as Lars spoke. He still hadn’t touched him, still hadn’t moved from the spot on the bed he had fled to. It wouldn’t have taken a psychologist to figure out what was going on with him. All the old fantasy stories his parents had told him about mating had gone to his head, and he had let things happen too fast. He was scaring him away. It was a long time before he responded. “That’s bullshit,” he said finally. “I liked how it made me feel.” Tentatively, he turned to Lars and placed his hand on his leg. He raised his eyes to meet Danny’s, hope rushing through him. “Me too.”

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“For the first time in my life, I feel like I like who I am. I like that I can feel that around you instead of hating myself all the time. Even the wolf part. Especially the wolf part.” His voice broke again as he continued. “You were right before. I did hate myself. I just don’t know why I’d want to hang on to who I was when it made me so unhappy.” Lars thought about the boys at the diner and the way they’d treated Danny, about Kirk, the boy he’d fooled around with, about his parents and the way they seemed to treat him, the way they’d made him disgusted with himself. Practically everyone Danny had come into contact with had attacked him in one way or another. It was easy to see why he would be so afraid of making himself vulnerable. He was probably waiting for the other shoe to fall. “You’re never going to be a burden here, not to me. We’re mates now,” he said. “So get rid of the silver, okay?” Danny’s lip was trembling, but he managed a weak nod, and Lars leaned in to him, wrapping his arms around him. This time, Danny did not resist, letting his small body fold into Lars’s bigger one. “You just have to learn to trust me,” he said, and Danny nodded, slowly, cautiously. It wouldn’t be an easy battle, but Lars vowed to earn that trust. He wanted Danny to believe it was okay to be loved, that he deserved it. He had to. His own heart depended on it. **** Danny sat on the bed, toying with the sleep mask Lars wore when they went to bed. In the past weeks, he’d done everything he could to make Danny feel safe at night, wrapping his big arms around Danny’s body as he went to sleep, and even, to Danny’s profound embarrassment, agreeing to leave the light on at night. It was embarrassing, having someone he had known for such a short while be able to know what he was feeling so completely all the

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time, but it was also comforting. True to his word, he had gotten rid of the knife, the very next day after the nightmare. He didn’t need it anymore. He had Lars and his brothers to keep him company, and during the day when they were gone, he had Ben to hang out with. Now that he was mated, he had never felt less alone in his life. Or more horny. It was a rare occurrence for the two of them to be lying in bed with their clothes on, and one Danny intended to reconcile. Like, immediately. Pushing aside the untouched GED book, he slipped the sleep mask over his head, holding his arms out ahead of him like a blind man as he fumbled for Lars next to him and only came up with a handful of the paperback book he was reading. Damn. He thought he’d been aiming considerably lower than that. Lars yanked the sleep mask up over one eye and crooked a sarcastic eyebrow at him, setting his book down. “How’s the studying going?” Danny smiled. “Ever tied anyone up during sex?” “Where did that come from?” “You know, contrary to popular belief, I have looked at some of the books in that study of yours. Not all of them are exactly PG-rated. Like that guy Marcus DeSad? What a freak.” “The Marquis DeSade,” Lars corrected. “And it hardly counts as porn.” “Liar.” Danny snorted. “Besides, there’s girl sex in there.” “How very observant of you.” “Have you?” Danny persisted, jerking the blindfold back over his eyes and snuggling against Lars. “What?” Lars asked. He could feel his chest move when he said it. “Tied someone up.” Silence. After a moment, he felt the corner of his shirt lifting up and a hand stroking softly under it. Danny smirked, leaning into the touch, and felt the hand move higher, circling a nipple. Danny swallowed. It was pretty hot, not knowing what was

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coming next like this. He’d nearly forgotten the question Lars was still trying to avoid. “Quit trying to distract me.” “What in the world made you bring this up, anyway?” Danny felt over to Lars, trying again for his crotch and smiling when he found the stiff ridge of his cock pressing against his soft cotton pants. He stroked Lars’s cock through the fabric, listening for his soft moans and the hitching of his breath. Two could play at this game. “You’re the one who’s always going on about trust and vulnerability.” Danny rolled his eyes as he said it. He couldn’t help it. Lars had certain words he liked to throw around a lot, and vulnerability was one of them. In fact, it was probably the number one most frequently used word in the shrink dictionary, which also made it Lars’s favorite word. The guy ought to win some sort of psychology merit badge or something for all he’d done to get Danny to trust him. And, he had to hand it to the guy, it seemed to be working. He had never been a fan of the dark, and yet, here he was, in total darkness, and the only overriding emotion he felt was his ever-growing lust. “I was talking about psychology,” Lars said, his voice tightening as Danny rolled his hand over his balls. “Not bondage.” Danny sighed. Time to bring out the big guns. “I found the leather straps in your dresser drawer.” Lars’s breath hitched, and Danny felt his fingers tighten over his hardened nipple. For a moment, he didn’t hear anything, only felt the pleasure-pain of those fingers plucking at him. Then it stopped. “I’ve tied guys up,” Lars said slowly. “And blindfolded them.” “Um,” he said. It was about the best he could manage under the circumstances. Suddenly, Danny felt very dizzy. Had he stopped breathing? He forced a long breath in and out of his nose and took a dry swallow. How was it the edge of panic had only just now seemed to catch up with him? He couldn’t see anything. It was pitch black.

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Before he could do it himself, Lars reached over and pulled the blindfold up off his eyes. Danny blinked, adjusting to the light. “Hey,” he said. “It’s just some stupid thing I’ve done before. Not like a fetish or anything.” Danny nodded, taking in Lars’s concerned expression. It was the same one he always had for him, endearing as it was infuriating. As much as he liked the concern Lars had for him, he didn’t want the guy to think he was some stupid kid who needed to be babied. Fat chance of that when he couldn’t even sleep with the light off at night. “Did you like it?” “Why should that matter?” “Do you want to?” he asked shyly. “With me?” Lars leveled a glance at him. “Do you?” Danny snorted. Like he could even begin to answer that question. The idea of it was equal parts arousing and terrifying to him. Half of him was already crazy with need, remembering the feel of his shirt being lifted, his body being stroked, feeling every sensation twice as strongly without the ability to see it. Lars was always going on about trust and its importance in a relationship. So why the hell couldn’t Danny just give it to him? He’d never love you if he knew you were a murderer. Danny bit his lip. It wasn’t Lars he was afraid of. It was that blackness. Those dark shadowy places only reminded him of the nightmares, of the secret he was still keeping from his mate. Would he ever be able to get that voice out of his head, to keep it from creeping in whenever the blackness set in? “I want to,” he said slowly. “I just…the dark…” Lars nodded. “I know,” he said. “It’s okay.” “It’s not,” Danny said. “I want to trust you. I mean, I do trust you. Not to hurt me or whatever…not that you would, but…” “I wouldn’t.” “I know,” Danny said, but his voice didn’t sound as sure.

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If anyone should be afraid of being hurt, it was Lars. He’d been the one to attack him, after all. Lars had told him the nightmare came from a part of him that didn’t want to give himself over, to relinquish that control. As much as he loved Lars—and fuck it, he did love him, so much it hurt—a part of him was still trying to keep him out of his heart. He was just so afraid of what he would find there. “If I freaked out…” he began. “I would stop,” Lars said. “Okay.” “Okay?” He could see the surprise in Lars’s eyes, but more so, he could feel the way his cock twitched against his hand. Danny teased it, slipping it into the waistband of his pants and thrilling when he felt his mate wasn’t wearing any underwear. He was just full of erotic surprises today. Slipping another hand into the waistband, he tugged at the pants to pull them off, and Lars adjusted his position to let him, helping him tug off his own clothes afterward. When they were both naked, Danny lay back down on the bed then dropped the blindfold over his eyes again. He felt Lars’s weight shift off of the bed then return to it. Two muscular thighs straddled his stomach, and he felt Lars’s balls brush across his chest as he leaned over him, raising his arms over his head. “Does this mean I get a safe word?” he asked. He felt Lars’s hands still above him. “Where in the world did you hear about that?” “Internet?” “Forget it,” Lars growled, and Danny smirked at the note of jealousy that had crept into his voice. “I don’t want to know. What did you have in mind?” Lars had finished with the ties, and Danny tugged against them to test their durability, see if he could wriggle out of them if he wanted to. Nope, he determined with a few flicks of his wrists, those suckers weren’t going anywhere. And neither was he.

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“How about vulnerable?” “Smart-ass,” Lars said as he got off of Danny’s chest. A moment later, Danny felt his rough palms pressing against the backs of his thighs, forcing his knees to bend. “You’re going to regret a mouthful like that the minute I start smacking this perfect little ass of yours.” Holy shit! Danny could feel his whole body flush at that idea so fast he couldn’t tell if it was from fear or arousal. He felt Lars’s palm caress gently down the length of his thigh to palm his backside, and he swallowed. Was that really a possibility? Inadvertently, his wrists tugged against the leather straps securing them to the headboard. Either way, he wouldn’t have much of a choice. His open eyes stared into the blackness in front of him. His breath quickened, and he wondered what he had gotten himself into. “Thought you said you wouldn’t hurt me,” he teased. He could hear the worry in his voice. He hoped it didn’t hurt Lars’s feelings. “I won’t,” he said quickly. “I’m sorry. I was just…” “It’s okay,” Danny said, his voice raspy. “I liked it, I just…” It was unnerving, being in the dark like this. Exciting, but unnerving. He could feel Lars’s weight shift between his legs. A hand grasped each of his legs, but he couldn’t see them. All he could see was the darkness. The edge of fear pressed against his need, but Lars’s hands stroked his legs gently, and his breaths slowed. He choked back a dry swallow. They had fucked a lot in the past weeks, hot and fast and frantic. He liked the rush of sensation he felt inside that abandon, the way the whole world seemed to almost disappear when those sensations overwhelmed him, hanging on the border between pleasure and pain. He didn’t think he could handle it like this. “Do you think…I mean, this time…could you go slow?” A moist kiss pressed against the inside of his thigh, and Danny felt Lars nod against his skin. Electric sparks raced through him as he felt the wet tip of Lars’s tongue trail his thigh, licking a path downward. When he felt warm

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hands part the cheeks of his ass, he hitched in a breath in anticipation. Then the wet muscle moved against the sensitive skin between them, and he jerked against it. “Okay?” Lars asked. Danny nodded. “Feels good,” he breathed. It was weird just how much he could feel in the dark like this. Lars licked him again, slower this time. His muscles contracted as he felt the careful motion of his tongue circle his hole then plunge inside. “Oh, God,” he moaned, bucking his hips against the motion. His wrists strained uselessly against the leather straps. If he had free reign over them, they would have flown to his cock by now, desperate to relieve the pressure building inside him. The way things were now, he could tell he was going to have to wait a long time. He felt the wetness of Lars’s tongue moving upward toward his balls, languishing around the sensitive patch of skin underneath them, letting that slow heat build up inside him then backing off as he turned to nibble at his thigh and tease his ass again with the slow whirl of his finger. “You’re killing me,” he ground out, pressing down against the digit. He groaned as it plunged inside him, fast and deep with the motion of his hips. It pulled out just as fast, and then he felt the pressure push into him again, wider than before. Two fingers. When he felt them curl inside him, he bit back a scream. “Harder,” he said. “Please. Please fuck me.” Lars’s fingers pulled out of him, and he whimpered. He heard the creak of the mattress underneath him then felt Lars’s hot breath against his neck as he whispered against his cheek. “You’re pretty sexy when you beg.” The edge of his stubble brushed against his face as he felt Lars nip a trail along his neck. Their cocks pressed together, sliding against one another with the slickness of pre-cum, and he felt his Adam’s apple surrounded by the suction of Lars’s hot mouth. Need built

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inside him, and he clenched his hands into fists, wanting to grab Lars’s hair, his ass, his cock. Damn these restraints. He ground his hips under Lars again, and the tip of Lars’s cock slipped out from between them, pressing against his cheeks. Lars moaned, and he felt the sound vibrate against his throat. He was enveloped by total darkness, his throat trapped beneath the mouth of a man who could tear it out if he wanted, but he wasn’t afraid. He couldn’t see the caring look in his eye, but he knew it was there. Lars crushed his mouth against his, and he sucked his tongue, smiling at the moan he drew out of him. “You’re so fucking hot,” he whispered. Danny smiled, turning his face to feel his mouth on Lars’s skin again and licking at the hot flesh that met his lips. “Am I?” he murmured, finding the line of his jaw. “I can’t see.” “Smart-ass.” Desperate hands slid down to the globes of his ass, grasping them firmly before releasing them. Danny strained to push his hips up farther, lifting his ass off the bed. He might not have been sure about that spanking before, but he sure as hell wanted it now. “Do it,” he urged. Lars’s cock slid between his ass cheeks. The tip pressed against his hole. Danny wiggled against it, and he smiled when he heard Lars groan. “I know you want to.” “I don’t think I can be gentle,” he growled. “I don’t think I want you to.” The words were no sooner out of his mouth than he felt Lars’s cock push into him, hard and hot and fast. He pushed his legs apart, thrusting against it until he was all the way in. His cock bounced against Lars’s hard abdomen as he thrust in and out of him, and his hands squeezed against his thighs, pressing them farther back, spreading him wider. A hand stroked through his hair then tightened its grasp, pulling at it, causing Danny to hiss out a breath. That ungodly slow tease had snapped something inside him, making his whole body crazy with the

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need to be touched. He wanted to feel as much as possible, as quickly as possible. Gasping, he leaned forward, crushing his mouth against Lars’s skin, seeking out his mouth, following the soft sounds he made with each rhythmic thrust. He kissed up the hard ridges and soft hollows of his body until he felt the wet pressure of a tongue invade his mouth, and he greedily sucked it in. The harder he sucked the throbbing muscle, the harder Lars stroked into him. When Danny dropped down his canines to gently press against Lars’s lips, he felt a hand raise his ass off the bed and another crack down against it with a sharp sting. Danny pulled away from Lars, gasping for breath. The heat radiated throughout his entire body. He could still feel the sting of pain when the second smack landed. If Danny had come any harder, he would have passed out. Lars’s cock jerked inside him, and he felt the rush of hot liquid shoot into him. He moaned, jerking his hips against it, riding out his own orgasm as Lars’s thrusts slowed. He felt Lars’s body press close against him and his hands playing at his wrists. The restraints gave way with the force of a violent tug, and Danny sat up, wrapping his free hands around Lars’s neck as he curled his legs around him. Lars pushed the blindfold up with both hands, kissing his temples, his eyes, his brow line, and the crook of his nose. Danny opened his eyes, staring into his mate’s as both men sat panting for breath. Something was pressing against him, crushing against the wall of his mind, an emotional force radiating off of Lars stronger than any he had felt before. It was strange and deep and unfamiliar, but Danny recognized it right away. He had been waiting for it all his life. Lars had fallen in love.

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Chapter Six Lars kissed the shell of Danny’s ear, letting his lips linger there a long time afterward, as if he were waiting to say something to him. Danny already knew what it was. It was broadcasting off of his mate so loudly he was surprised the words hadn’t exploded from his mouth. “I love you,” Lars finally whispered against his ear. Just hearing the words made Danny’s heart seize. Lars loved him, just like Danny knew he loved Lars. He should be happy, but instead he was terrified. He said nothing, only lay on the bed, pressing closer into Lars’s chest, wanting to dissolve into him if only he could. It would be such a welcome escape from his own head. Lars moved his lips to Danny’s forehead, and he pressed a kiss to it. “You’re so quiet,” he said, and even though the statement came out casual, Danny could feel the anxiety coming off of Lars in waves. It was because he hadn’t said it back. He knew he loved Lars, too. It was almost embarrassing how much, like a character in some stupid soap opera or one of the romance books his mom was forever reading. He wanted to run screaming through the streets shouting it. He wanted to have it tattooed across his face. So why the hell couldn’t he say it out loud? Because he doesn’t know. Because if he did know, he wouldn’t love you. Because sooner or later, he’ll find out, and when he does, he’ll hate you for it. Lars stroked a hand across his forehead. “You’re worried.”

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“I’m not,” Danny said quickly, but his last thought echoed in his brain. Sooner or later, he’ll find out. There was no way to hide it. Not for long, anyway. Lars could sense his emotions and see his dreams. It was only a matter of time before he figured it out. His brow furrowed, and he gazed into Danny’s eyes. “Did I do something? Did I make you uncomfortable?” Danny shook his head. “No…” he started, but he couldn’t go further than that. He dropped his eyes, not wanting to see the hurt in Lars’s face, but it didn’t matter. He could feel it there, a mass of worry and hurt and frustration, and Danny knew he was the cause of it. He had let his emotions get the better of him, and they had infected Lars like a cancer. He used to worry he was overemotional. All his life, he’d been afraid of what his wolf would do if he couldn’t control the overwhelming feelings that were always getting the best of him. It had never occurred to him that the feelings themselves could cause just as much damage. “It’s not you,” he said forcefully. “That’s a familiar line,” Lars joked, but Danny could feel his muscles tense as he pulled away from him. “Why do I feel like I’m about to be dumped?” “You’re not,” Danny said. “God, no. Why would I—?” “Because you’re upset, and you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong. And I don’t know why else you would—” “Because I don’t want to lose you,” he said. Danny raised his eyes to meet Lars. He smiled a thin-lipped smile and quirked an eyebrow. “Try me.” He shook his head. “You don’t understand. This is—” “Worse than you stalking me with a silver knife while I’m sleeping? Come on. If that didn’t scare me off, I don’t know what would.” “Thomas,” he said. “His name was Thomas.” “Thomas who?”

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“The one you saw in the dream. The one who tried to attack you. Thomas Craven,” Danny said. He choked down a dry swallow. “My twin.” “I didn’t know you had a brother,” Lars said quietly. He didn’t ask for an explanation. “I don’t,” he said. “Not anymore.” He could stop now. He hadn’t said much, not really. The confession, innocuous as it was, would lead to more questions, and Danny might be able to evade them. The emotions he felt, the worry, the anxiety, the guilt, could all be played off, explained away as a reaction to his bad childhood and screwed up family, to the brother who died and that he missed. He could keep lying to his mate. By confessing just enough, he might be able to keep the secret forever, to hold on to it, a tiny black spot on his heart. But he wanted to let it go. “It was my fault.” Danny’s heart raced. He’d said it. There was no turning back now. He reached up a hand and traced the line of his jaw, trying to memorize the spiky feel of his mate’s stubble, the shape of his nose, the scent of his body, the way his arms felt around him. He wanted to remember it all, capture it all. He had felt Lars’s arms tense around him, saw his eyes searching his to gauge his sincerity. He was still holding him, but for how much longer? Danny took a deep breath and began. “I was just a kid when it happened, only five years old. I still don’t remember the details. I guess I must have blocked them out from the start because I can remember the days afterward. My parents were upset and scared, and people from the Wildlife Commission kept coming by. I knew that Thomas had died, and that he’d been attacked by an animal. They told everyone it must have been a coyote because,” he said bitterly, “like they said, there aren’t any wolves in Texas.

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“It was days later before I found out what had really happened. I was playing outside, and I shifted. I was just a kid, you know? I don’t even know if I knew the difference between shifting and playing. Like little kids with imaginary friends. I only did it for a minute, but my parents freaked out. I didn’t know why they were so upset. That’s when my mom told me. “‘You were with Thomas when it happened,’ she said. ‘You shifted. It was your fault.’” The memory of that day was as fresh in Danny’s mind as anything he’d ever experienced. It was the day everything had changed for him. The day he realized what a monster he was. He learned later that his mom had been there when it happened, had actually seen what he’d done to his brother. It was your fault. Her voice was cold when she said it. Danny didn’t know whether it was from the horror of the memory or the force of her own guilt. How fast had it happened? How big had he been as a wolf back then? Had she tried to stop him, or had she simply run away? He had always wondered, but he had never asked. The look on her face when she told him, the horror and disgust written there, had said enough. It was the look he knew he would see on Lars’s face when he finally brought his eyes up to look at him. He could already feel the frustration radiating off of him, slow and hot, even as he continued to hold him. It must have been killing him to do it, to stroke his hair and try to comfort him. Why the hell didn’t Lars just let him go? Unless he’s trying to accept it. Unless he wants to hold on. Unless he isn’t giving up on you. Danny dismissed the thought as soon as it hit him. Lars was a shrink, he reminded himself. He had a lot of experience trying to calm down screwed up people. It was in his nature. “I guess you and your mom don’t get along very well?” Lars asked. Danny blew out a breath. His face was hot, his throat constricted. “She doesn’t really talk to me. She was there when it happened. I don’t think she likes to remember.”

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Lars didn’t say a word, but Danny could feel the anger rising from him. “And your dad?” “He hates me. Since I was a kid, everything I’ve ever done, no matter how hard I tried…it’s like I can’t make up for it. It was always there, and he was always there to remind me of what I did. To keep me from getting out of control. To keep me from shifting. To keep me from thinking it’s okay. Even now, I still feel that way sometimes.” He couldn’t take it anymore. “I hate the way he made me feel, but there’s still a part of me that knows he’s right. I mean, after what I did…can you blame him?” Finally, Danny dragged his eyes up to meet Lars’s. His heart stilled when he saw the look there. “Yes,” Lars said, “I can.” There was no disgust in Lars’s gaze. If he was angry, it wasn’t at Danny. Lars’s brown eyes surveyed him, open and concerned and trusting. “You said it yourself. It was an accident. You weren’t even old enough to know what you were doing. I don’t doubt that what happened was hard for them, but I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. Because not only did you have to live with that guilt, but you had to do it alone. Your parents should have tried to help you deal with that guilt, not encourage it.” “But what I did—” “What you did you weren’t old enough to take responsibility for. What your parents did, pushing you away and blaming you for what happened, they did as adults.” “Is that the only reason you’re angry? You don’t think it’s fucked up or wrong or—” He could go on, but he didn’t have to. Lars was already shaking his head no. Danny breathed out a long, held breath, and relief washed over him. He didn’t remember much about his brother, but it was as if he had carried him inside of him his entire life. Even as a kid, he had felt

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it, an absence like a ghost living inside him. He was in his thoughts. He showed up in his dreams, but he realized now that he didn’t know what he was like at all. That vengeful, bitter thing he imagined had nothing to do with his brother. He had lost Thomas and the memory of him long ago. What remained now was nothing but a warped distortion, formed from his own guilt and regret. He thought he had let Lars in, but he hadn’t. He was still defending that empty space inside him because he thought he had to. It was his responsibility, his punishment, his fault. He had lived with that emptiness all his life because he didn’t think he deserved to let it go. But things were different now. He didn’t want to forget his brother, whatever memory remained of him, but he did want to get rid of the awful pain his memory evoked. He wanted to believe that he was good, that he deserved good things. That he deserved Lars. Taking a breath, he said the words he’d already thought to himself so many times before, the words that invaded his mind every time he looked at his mate. “I love you,” he said shyly. He squeezed Lars’s hand. Lars’s lip curled as he looked down at him. “Say again?” “I love you,” Danny said, and he smiled. He would say it a thousand times if he had to. He wasn’t afraid anymore. **** Lars’s eyes were open, but he couldn’t see a thing. Whatever was surrounding him, it was cold and dark. Nothingness, he thought, but then he corrected himself, feeling a solid surface under his feet. He was standing on something, but it seemed to be all that existed, just a vast expanse of nothing above the long, flat surface. Not a surface. A plane.

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His breath quickened at the thought, and he shook his head to dismiss it. If this was Morgana, he could see why his parents escaped. What he couldn’t see, however, was why they would ever want to come back. If he had to live in this terrible place, he couldn’t imagine what sort of person he would become. No sound echoed beneath his feet as he took a few steps in one direction. Then a few steps back. He turned, unsure which direction he’d headed in the first place. Where the fuck was he? A dream. This has to be a dream. But if this was a dream, that meant Danny was here, waiting in the blackness, the same as him. Lars bit his lip. Danny wouldn’t like that. What the hell had he been thinking, blindfolding him like that earlier? If he ever woke up—when you wake up, idiot. It’s a dream. Be rational, for Christ’s sake—he solemnly swore to light up every room in the house like a Christmas tree the next time the two of them went to bed. If Danny was there, he needed to find him. Lars thrust his hands out in front of him, desperate to feel some point of reference other than his own weight tethering him to the ground. He walked and turned, walked and turned, grasping at the nothing ahead of him. When he finally swung his arms around and struck a solid surface, he was certain he’d gone into cardiac arrest. Immediately, he jerked his hand back, retreating back into the nothing, but his senses were sharper now, tingling with the fear of whatever was in front of him, his mind racing with the possibilities of when it might strike and where the attack might come from. There were too many places to count. Tentatively, Lars stuck his hand back out in front of him, cautiously waiting to hit that awful solid wall again. He did, feeling carefully up it. Cotton. It was cotton beneath his hand, a T-shirt. He pulled back again, afraid at what—or who—was waiting underneath it. It could be Danny, he thought, and although the strangely silent

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body he’d brushed against twice now scared the crap out of him, he had to touch it again to see who it was. He had to find his mate. Tentatively he reached out to feel the smooth, taut frame…and felt a wave of relief wash over him with the spark of recognition. Thank God. It was bad enough being banished to some weird nowhere place without having to worry about the moral ramifications of dreamgroping a stranger. “Danny?” Two white corneas popped out of the darkness. The irises were Danny’s shade of icy blue, but there was none of the trust or love he’d seen in them earlier that night. Gone was the rush of emotion, the surge of feeling Lars usually got from staring into them. Unless he counted fear. This gaze was hard, and cold, and dead. “Not Danny,” a voice teased. But was it Danny’s voice? Lars didn’t have time to consider it. Two white fangs appeared in the blackness ahead of him. Whoever was looking at him was not human. And from what Lars could tell, he was angry. No, anger wasn’t the word, Lars corrected himself. Anger came from a place of resentment, of frustration. It had roots. What he was seeing in the cold stare ahead of him was a wild inhumanity that resulted from a lack of emotional tether. Lars had wondered how much this nothingness would weigh on him if he had to stay here for long. He didn’t have to wonder anymore. He had come face-to-face with the answer. “You were so young when you died,” Lars said. The words left his mouth seemingly of their own volition, but once they were out, he knew what the thing in front of him was. It had a name. Thomas. He smiled, baring more of his fangs. Lars’s parents had raised him to believe the wolf inside him was natural. He had never once feared or felt ashamed of it. Until now. “I didn’t die,” Thomas corrected. “I came here.”

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“Where are we?” Lars asked, his heart racing. You’re in a dream. You’re wandering around in your own stupid subconscious. A myriad of ready analyses came to mind to explain the lack of setting. Danny’s confession had upset some part of him, and this was the manifestation of that anxiety. He was experiencing his repressed guilt for blindfolding Danny. The intensity of falling in love had overwhelmed him, and his subconscious was overcompensating by dropping him into the abyss. Rational, logical, explainable as those ideas were, the sinking feeling in the pit of his gut suggested otherwise. Something was very wrong here. “Am I dead?” “Close. Very close,” Thomas droned, “but no. You’re only visiting. Welcome to my plane.” Lars’s breath stilled. All his life, he had wanted to believe in the existence of something beyond this world. After what had happened with his parents, it was his only recourse. Despite his best efforts at rationality, he clung to the possibility that they were out there waiting somewhere, if not in Morgana than some kind of afterlife. Science be damned, his heart’s hope depended on it. But not here. Not this. “This is where we go after death?” “This is where I went.” Lars nodded, the gesture lost in the darkness. His head swam with the possibilities of what Thomas had told him. Thomas had gone here in death, but it was not a universal place. It was subjective. It was a little like a dream. Was this place, too, created out of the ruined fragments of one’s past life? You were so young when you died. That was what Lars had said to him earlier, and he thought now he understood the significance of it. Thomas had died before his memories had developed, with nothing from his life to hold on to. He was cut off here, lost in the void of possibility.

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“You’re stuck here?” he asked. The very thought caused panic to rise in his chest. “You can’t ever get out?” “I get out sometimes,” Thomas said, and his fangs seemed to almost form a smile. “When he lets me.” Those cold blue eyes left Lars for a space in the emptiness behind him. Lars turned to follow their gaze and saw that it was not emptiness behind him at all. A door had appeared, cutting through the blackness and breaking the void. A bright red door. The lone object in the darkness, it stood out like a beacon, but something about that terrible, pulsing red, warned him to stay away. He wondered what was behind it. Or who. Lars swallowed to soothe his dry throat. “When he lets you out,” he repeated. “Who’s he?” “You know who. Danny.” Danny. His first thought was to get to him, and he started toward the door at once, but the closer he got to it, the worse he felt. It was nothing like the dizzy giddiness of heading toward his mate, although he could, however dimly, sense that Thomas was right. Danny was there behind the door, but Lars was afraid to open it. Something wasn’t right about the situation. The door connecting Danny to this monster before him was marred with pain. Waves of terror and hurt and regret seemed to radiate off of it. That Danny would come to such a place was frightening for Lars. He didn’t want to lead him back to it. He stopped, but clawed fingers dug into his wrist, pulling him back toward the red door. Thomas was strong. Surprisingly so. “He locked me out,” he said. “It’s your fault.” Those words, the ones that Danny’s mother had said to him, echoed in his head. Did Thomas know their significance, the effect they had had on Danny? The way they had rubbed his every memory of his brother raw with guilt and remorse? From the satisfied way he’d spoken the words, he suspected he did. Lars stared at the door ahead of him. Red. Raw. Hurting. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to enter that door, to revel

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in the pain that seemed to stick inside it. Unless that person knew nothing else. Lars stared at the door again, its vivid color beckoning out of the nothingness like a siren song, promising that for all its foreboding, it existed. It was here. He stared at Thomas’s narrowed eyes again, and he thought he saw a desperation in them. Like he needed to get out of this place. Like he’d go anywhere, risk anything, to escape it. Thomas’s words echoed in his mind. He locked me out. Lars remembered the sense of peace he’d felt when Danny told him he loved him. He had felt it, almost as if that peace had crawled out from something blocking its path. Something Danny had let go. Or shut out of his mind. “He did this tonight?” The specks of white, eyes and teeth, moved up and down in the black. The hand on his wrist clutched at him like that of a needy child. Thomas needed, but it wasn’t a child lurking here in the dark. It was a parasite, a grown creature that wanted something to feed his lonely existence, to help shape his world. Like the red, raw edge of Danny’s regret. How long had Danny spent thinking about Thomas, worrying about what he’d done for him, wishing to have him back? He had told Danny the night he attacked him that a part of him was resisting the mating of their souls. He hadn’t wanted to change, had been afraid to give up a part of himself. Lars knew now what that part was. Thomas shoved him toward the door. “Open it,” he said. Lars shook his head, and the claws bit into him harder. He felt the wet blossom of blood running warm against his skin. He gritted his teeth and shook his head. “It wasn’t you he let go of,” Lars said. “Only his pain.” Thomas chuckled. “Pain keeps me strong.” Thomas pushed at Lars again, harder than before, flinging him against the door. The wood splintered against him, the shards pressing into his body. Lars gasped for breath and finally felt it rush into his

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lungs. The wind had been knocked out of him. He struggled, sputtering, trying to regain his breath in big, cold gasps as Thomas moved closer to him. His arm still stung from before, and he could feel the warmth of his blood running down from the deep, stinging gashes. He moved behind Lars and pressed against him. His arm stung, and he felt warm breath on the back of his shoulder, felt the jagged edge of teeth graze his neck. In an instant, Thomas could destroy him. He had nowhere to go but through the door.

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Chapter Seven Something warm and wet slid against Danny’s stomach, pulling him out of his sleep. He opened his eyes, glancing down to the place where Lars’s arm was wrapped protectively around him, and saw red. It was covered in blood. Panic choked Danny’s throat as he pulled away from the arm, grasping at it desperately to stop the flow of blood, but as he turned, he saw that the cuts, deep as they were, weren’t his only injuries. Two round red holes hollowed into the skin on his neck, as if some sharp unseen points were pressing into it. Then the holes bloomed with blood. Danny’s eyes widened in horror at the sight. He had seen the same thing in a horror movie when he was a kid, a sleeping body ripped apart by some unseen attacker. It terrified him, but not as much as the thought of losing his mate. He couldn’t, not now. The memory of their mating pounded through his head. The same circles of blood had risen up from Lars’s skin then, and for a moment, Danny had panicked at the sight, not wanting to hurt him. Instinctively, he had stuck out his tongue to lick the wound, and it had healed. Could he close the wounds the same way now? Frantic, Danny shifted, lapping at the wound, watching it grow and recede, open and shut. For a few hysterical moments, Lars continued to convulse on the bed. Danny felt the force of each bare second press against him like a great yawning abyss doubling over itself, threatening to swallow him whole. He had felt misery before, and terror, and panic, but never such complete despair. Never in his life had he had so much to lose.

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Finally, Lars jerked awake with a gasp, terror in his eyes as he looked at Danny in his shifted form. Danny continued to lick at his wounds, feeling the taste of copper flood his mouth and watching the skin and tissue knit over the ragged wound until it finally closed, as if nothing had ever happened. Lars was okay, but he couldn’t forget the look of terror Lars had given him as he woke up. It was a look he had never expected to see from his mate. In a fluid movement, his wolfish body melded and reformed into his human one, and Danny stood before the bed in front of Lars, torn between his relief that he was alive and his fear of what he saw in Lars’s eyes as they continued to look at him. Detached. Cautious. Uncertain. Danny felt his stomach tighten with shame as Lars rubbed at his throat, the remaining traces of blood spreading under his touch. It was surreal. A minute ago he had feared for his life. Now he was sitting up on the bed, blinking at him, his breathing steady and calm. “Are you okay?” he asked. “There was so much blood—” “I’m fine,” Lars said. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Danny let out a breath. “You shifted,” he said. Danny stared at him, unsure how to respond. “You almost died.” Lars nodded, taking in the red-stained bedsheets. He pressed a hand against them then pulled it back, crawling off the bed. Danny wanted to go to him, pull him tight against his body and hold him there. He was relieved that Lars was okay, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of discomfort he sensed in his mate. How much did he remember of what happened? Lars’s eyes flitted to the sheets, taking in the deep red that stained them. For a moment, his eyes seemed to flash with recognition. “I was having a nightmare,” he said, dazed. He looked up at Danny. “You weren’t there.” Danny bit his lip at the hollow tone in his mate’s voice. His mate. They had always shared dreams before, ever since that first night. But the dream Danny had just woken up from was different. In his dream, he awoke in Lars’s bed, but Lars wasn’t there. For a moment, he had

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panicked, wanting to rush to the door to find him, but when he got there, he couldn’t bring himself to go through it. The door wasn’t like the door to Lars’s room, and it scared him. It had been such a strange, foreboding color of red. Still, he would hardly call the dim memory a nightmare. “Do you remember it?” Danny asked, forcing Lars to meet his gaze, but he still seemed dazed. Danny bit his lip, averting Lars’s eyes as he pulled his boxer shorts back on. He couldn’t stand the way Lars had looked at his wolf earlier, especially after all the time Lars had spent helping Danny get comfortable with it, showing him it was okay. Now, all Danny wanted to do was get dressed as quickly as possible, to show his mate just how domesticated he could be. Finally, Lars looked up at him. “I remember darkness,” he said. “And a red door.” His head cocked to the side, and his eyes slanted. “Didn’t you have the same dream?” Danny blinked. A red door. He remembered that, but not the darkness. “I was in the room,” he said, “but it wasn’t dark. There was a door there—” Lars cut him off. “I wasn’t in the room.” “Where were you?” Lars’s eyebrows furrowed the way they always did when he was thinking. Then he shook his head. “I don’t remember.” His face was blank. “I don’t remember anything else.” “I woke up and saw that you were hurt,” he said slowly. “Something was attacking you.” Lars’s head jerked up. “Something. What was it?” Danny’s head swam with the uneasiness he could feel rolling off of Lars in waves. He could feel his face growing hot. “I don’t know. It was sort of…invisible?” Lars looked at him. There was no mistaking the disbelief in that look. “You shifted,” he repeated. “I–I thought I could heal you,” he stammered. “Like when we mated. Was that wrong?”

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Lars shook his head. “No, but…” he sighed. “You’re certain this was after you woke up? I mean, maybe what you saw, when I was attacked—” Danny didn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence. He already knew where it was going. “You think I attacked you in my sleep.” He stared at Lars, hard. “Or rather, you think my wolf did.” All the guilt and shame that he had felt from his childhood returned with a vengeance, washing over Danny. His head hammered, pounding out a frantic pain, and the acid surge of regret rose in his stomach. He glanced at the clock. How long had it been since he had let go of that burden? An hour? Two? He had thought he would never feel it again, but it was there now, stronger than ever, edged now with the sharp sting of betrayal. Thirteen years ago, he had done something bad. He would never atone for it. No matter how many times he tried to seek forgiveness, he would only find new ways to open the wound. How stupid had he been to believe it would be different with Lars? That he could trust him? Love him? His chest squeezed as he realized that he still loved him, and it didn’t matter. No matter what Lars told him, no matter what he thought he felt between them, the facts remained. He was a monster. He was unlovable. He was dangerous. Even if this time, it wasn’t his fault. Lars eyed him carefully. “If you did, I wouldn’t be upset. You know that, right?” He could feel the nervousness flooding from Lars and squeezed his fists as if to defend himself against it, but Lars moved closer to him, putting his arms around him. “Don’t shut me out,” he said. “I love you.” “Please don’t say that right now.” It came out cold, that statement, and Lars pulled away, dropping his hands from his shoulders like lead weights. He didn’t mean to hurt him. He knew what it must look like, waking up injured to find a

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beast standing over him. He knew what had happened in his last nightmare, how close he’d come to hurting Lars. And, worst of all, he knew what he’d told Lars earlier that night. That he had a history with this sort of thing. It was only fair to accuse him, but it hurt all the same, and he couldn’t keep that hurt out of his voice. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I know what I saw.” Did he? He shut his eyes, remembering the image of the red door. Just before he woke, he could swear he heard someone screaming behind it. As if that person was being attacked. Lars? His thoughts stilled when his eyes drifted to the red-stained bed that still stood between them. Fuck, Danny thought. He would have to do something about that. Strip the sheets. Wash them. Burn them. If he looked at them any longer, he thought would lose his mind. He tugged at one edge of the sheet, then another, rolling the corners together into a point. He glanced up at Lars. His wounds had long since healed, but red splashes still streaked across his neck and arms. “You should shower,” Danny said. “I’ll take care of this.” Lars nodded. “You’re a good person,” he said quietly. Danny busied himself with the sheets until Lars finally disappeared into the bathroom. He couldn’t bring himself to respond to that last statement, but he wanted so badly to believe it. **** Lars stayed in the shower a long time, letting the hot water wash away the traces of blood clinging to his body. The water was hot, too hot, but he didn’t care. He ought to feel at least a little pain for the hell he’d put his mate through. Even setting aside just how uncomfortable Danny still was with his wolf, he’d been a world-class jerk. No matter how unbelievable what Danny had told him was, he should have accepted it. Irrational or not, he was a werewolf, for Christ’s sake. His life wasn’t exactly a parade of normalcy to begin with.

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After all his talk about trust, he hadn’t been able to extend that same basic courtesy to his mate. Whatever had happened had obviously scared the hell out of him, and he’d added salt to Danny’s wounds by not only dismissing his side of the story as impossible, but jumping to the absolute worst possible conclusion. The kid had spent all night confessing to him just how hell-bent he was on believing his wolf was some dangerous, rabid beast, and here he’d gone and accused him of being exactly that. Why the fuck hadn’t he just lied and said he believed him? Because he was afraid. The dream was only a vague memory now, slipping out of his mind the second he awoke with the pain and shock of his injuries and the image of Danny standing over him. All he could remember was that damn red door, and a shaking, uneasy feeling when he opened his eyes and looked at Danny. He wanted to believe he hadn’t attacked him again, but that feeling…it was as if he’d seen something different in him now. Some other part of him he kept hidden away. A harbor for all the pain and misery and hatred he’d tried so hard to block out. He spent a long time in the shower, turning the images over in his head, but when he got out, Danny still hadn’t returned. Pulling on a pair of gym shorts, he headed out into the hallway to get a pair of fresh sheets from the linen closet. He could at least do that much to help. When he walked out into the hallway, he saw Alexander standing there. The color was drained from his face, and he was visibly shaken. “What happened?” Lars averted his gaze, his hands numbly rifling through the linen closet. “Nothing.” “I came in through the laundry room, and I saw Danny putting a pair of sheets into the wash. They were soaked in blood, and he wouldn’t talk about it.”

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Lars shut the door and turned back to the bedroom, but Alexander followed close on his heels. “Can’t a guy catch a minute’s privacy in this house? It’s late.” “What happened?” Alexander repeated. Lars shook his head, balling the sheets in his fists. “Leave it,” he growled. “It’s between me and Danny.” His brother crossed his arms over his wide frame, narrowing his eyes. Since they were young, he had used his hulking size to loom over him and Jasper like some kind of supernatural bodyguard, a trait that was at times endearing and at others infuriating. Right now, it was bordering on intolerable. If Danny was as much of a danger to him as Lars suspected, he couldn’t risk Alexander finding out. He didn’t know how he would react to the news, and he couldn’t stand to think of Alexander getting upset with Danny. He had already caused his mate enough worry for one night. He smoothed the sheet over the bed and stared at it, shining and white again. He had hoped replacing it would cover up the memory of what had happened. It didn’t. He sat down on it, aiming his frustration at Alexander as he looked up and saw him still standing in the doorway. “You don’t always have to play the protector, you know. It’s not your job to rescue everyone.” “You don’t always have to shut everyone out.” Lars tensed at the words. They were the same ones he’d said to Danny earlier. “I don’t do that,” he said. Alexander looked at him with apparent disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? Ever since Mom and Dad left—” Lars bristled. “This has nothing to do with that,” he said. “And they didn’t leave. They’re in the hospital. Or is that too hard for you to understand?” Alex blanched at the low dig, but Lars continued, hating himself for the spite in his voice. “Jesus, Alex, how long are you going to hold on to this ridiculous fantasy? They’re lying there, their brains deteriorating into God knows what while—”

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“You’re right,” Alex snapped. “I don’t know what’s going on in their heads. And neither do you. For all you know, they’re on another plane.” Heat surged into Lars’s face at the word. Plane. It jostled something in his memory, nagging at it like the image of the red door. He choked it down, along with the uneasiness it brought him. “That’s bullshit,” he said. “You know it is.” But his voice no longer sounded cool and certain. “Anyway, how could they? Their bodies are still here. I suppose you think they just left them behind? That they’re two places at once? How do you explain that?” “I can’t,” Alex said, his gaze leveled coolly on Lars. “It’s just what I believe.” That stung. The kind of unwavering faith that seemed to come so naturally to Alex wasn’t something that Lars had ever been able to muster. Not for at least ten years. He’d spent that time searching for explanations, theories. And now he didn’t have one. Or did he? If what Danny said was true, something had reached out to Lars from one reality and attacked him in another. As if he’d been caught between two worlds. Two planes, his mind corrected. Damn it, the more he thought about it, the more agitated he became. “Even if it was possible, what difference would it make?” Lars snapped. “Suppose they did go to another plane or got trapped between two of them. They left us here. And wherever they are, we’re stuck here. Nothing is ever going to change that. At least if I believe they’re lost to us, I can move on. I can be in control. Not waiting around for some fairy tale to come to life. The more I believe that I don’t belong here, that I’m just some refugee from another world, the more I ruin my chances of happiness in this world. And I’m not going to do that. Not now that I’ve found Danny.” Alex gave a slight nod. “Makes sense,” he said. “For you. But for those of us who haven’t found anyone…”

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Goddamned Alex. Lars sighed. He and Jasper might have given up on their parents’ stories, but he never had. The years he and Jasper had spent trying to fully acclimate themselves to higher education and jobs and house payments, Alex had continued to train, disciplining himself, preparing to be a hunter and warrior. He had never given up on the idea that there was some distant plane out there somewhere, waiting for them to return to it, and that they would return there one day to find love and fulfill their destinies. But apparently, fate had a sadistic sense of humor. So far, Alex was the only one of the brothers not to find a mate. Which explained why he was spending so much of his time interfering with Lars’s love life. “What were you even doing out, anyway?” Alexander winced. “Guarding the house.” Lars raised an eyebrow at him. “From what?” “I don’t know, maybe I’m just being paranoid, but…something happened the other night between Ben and Jasper. Jasper has a cut on his back that won’t heal. I asked him about it, but you know how he is. Ben didn’t say much either. Something about scratching Jasper in his sleep, or before he fell asleep, I guess, but…” Alex trailed off. “It doesn’t make sense. If Ben did it, it would have healed right away, but Jasper didn’t. It was like he’d gotten cut by something silver. And you know we don’t keep silver in the house.” Lars nodded. “I know.” Danny had long since gotten rid of the silver steak knife. “Right. So it must have come from somewhere else.” From another plane. Lars’s body stiffened as if to rid his mind of it, but this time, it stuck. It was coming back to him now, the whole terrible narrative of his own dream. He had searched in the dark for Danny and found Thomas instead. He had wanted Lars to unlock the red door, and Lars had opened it to find— “Was he having a nightmare?”

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Alex nodded. “That’s what Ben said.” He shrugged as if to dismiss the fact as unimportant, but Lars latched on to it, his mind turning it over. “I don’t know, I thought if it was silver…maybe someone who knew about werewolves found out we were living here and tried to attack us. Maybe Danny’s dad or someone from his family—” The realization of what had happened suddenly hit him full-force. It was irrational, unfounded, and impossible to prove, but he had never been more sure of anything in his life except for Danny. Lars cut Alex off before he had time to finish his sentence. “You were wrong.” It was uncanny how unlike each other the two of them were. If Alex had been the one telling Lars that, the glare Lars would have met him with would have been murderous. But Alex merely folded his arms across his chest, waiting for an explanation. Lars blew out a long breath. “The blood you saw on the sheets was from me. I was sleeping when it happened, the same as Jasper. I woke up, and Danny had shifted, and I was hurt. I thought he attacked me in his sleep, but he swore he wasn’t sleeping when it happened. He said he saw the scratches appear on me from out of nowhere.” Alex stiffened. “Maybe he dreamed the whole thing.” Lars shook his head. “That’s something else that was weird. Usually we share dreams, but not this time. His was different from mine. And I don’t think what I experienced was a dream. I think I was on another plane.” It sounded crazy. It was crazy. This was how all the textbooks he’d studied in graduate school had described delusions as beginning, wasn’t it? Life had dealt him a bad hand, and his brain couldn’t handle it. So instead of facing the difficult truth, he’d started spinning some crazy web of paranoid connections in to justify believing in some pleasant impossibility. Any minute, he was going to be carted out of here in a straightjacket.

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Lars flitted his gaze to Alexander to gauge his expression. But there was no skepticism or concern there. Surprise and confusion, maybe, but he could handle that. He took a deep breath and continued. “What do we really know about Mom being a planeswalker? Dad was a werewolf, too, and we’ve known how that affected us since we were kids. But maybe he isn’t the only one we take after. Maybe we’re planeswalkers, too. And the things that attacked me and Jasper came at us…” “From another plane.” He didn’t have to complete the sentence. Alex was right there with him. Believing came easy to Alex. It was one of his gifts. Lars had always been the opposite, always afraid he’d get hurt if he let himself go. Still, that kind of caution could be a gift, too. He remembered the peace he’d sensed in Danny when his own obsessive steadiness had rushed into him for the first time. It seemed like mating had taken some of his fear away. And Danny had a lot to be afraid of. “Bits and pieces of the dream have started to come back to me. It didn’t feel like a dream at all. Danny’s brother, Thomas, was there, and he attacked me. He died when they were kids…” Lars trailed off, eyeing Alex. He knew he could trust his brother, but he didn’t want to say much more than that. If Danny wanted to share his story with him, that was fine. But that was his decision, when they were ready. It was best to keep it simple. “Danny has been holding on to his memory ever since it happened. When we started having dreams about him, I thought it was Danny’s subconscious attacking me. I thought I was helping him by encouraging him to let the memory go, but now…” He sighed. All that guilt and anger, all that rage and hurt that was inside Danny, it was as if he’d turned it free somehow. As if he’d opened a door. “This thing, Thomas or whatever it is he’s become, he’s in a bad place. Like a halfway point where he got stuck on the way to the afterlife. I think Danny is keeping him there because he won’t let him

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go. Instead, he just shut his memory out of his head. And that’s made him very upset. “He can’t get to Danny anymore so he’s using me—and whatever planeswalking abilities I have—as a way to get to me. To bring me into his world. To hurt me.” His head was swimming with the contradictory directions he was being led in. He’d intended to help Danny work through his demons, not breathe them to life before his very eyes. It was as if they were walking toward each other in a minefield, and every step they made only served to set off some new chain of explosions, forcing them to slow down, to stay away or be swept up with the rest of the wreckage. “Christ,” he said weakly. “This is dangerous. It would kill me to stay away from him, but the longer I stay with him…” His thoughts swam round and round, unable to break free. Only weeks ago, he’d been so cool, so detached, that he’d be able to think through any problem. He’d been desperate to rationalize what happened to his parents, preferring to process what had happened intellectually rather than deal with the emotional fallout of feeling abandoned by them. Now, his thoughts were distorted, clouded by emotional need and instinct. The same thoughts pounded through his head, over and over. Tell Danny you believe him. Don’t let him get hurt. The only problem was, he didn’t think he could do both. “I can’t take this,” he said. “Being in love. It’s like losing my mind.” He had scarcely been able to look at Alex, not wanting to admit his weakness. But when his eyes finally fell to him, it wasn’t disappointment he saw in Alex’s face, but a smile of encouragement. “So lose it,” he said. “Let go.” **** Danny had stood in the hallway outside their bedroom for a long while, listening to Lars, watching his pained expression as he talked

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to his brother. Horror washed over him as he heard his mate’s conclusion, and that horror turned to despair when he waited even longer to hear him confess his feelings on the matter. I can’t take this, he’d said, meaning Danny. Their relationship, mating, whatever it was, he didn’t want it anymore. That was all Danny had needed to hear before turning and walking out of the house. He’d known it would only be a matter of time before he screwed things up again. It was his fault. His fault after all. There had been tenderness, even concern, in Lars’s voice when he explained it to Alex, but that didn’t change the facts. As long as he’d held onto Thomas, he’d kept himself from loving Lars. As soon as he’d let go of him, he’d put him in danger. Some relationships just weren’t meant to be. Or perhaps, Danny thought bitterly, some people just weren’t cut out for relationships. Danny flew down the stairs and out the door into the night, halfrunning, half-stumbling down the long gravel drive that led up to the Craven brothers’ house. He turned one way, then the other before he decided where to go. The uneven tip of Borderland State Park jutted out like an island between the house’s backyard and his destination. He could walk the distance if he cut through the wooded area, could make it quickly if he shifted and let his wolf run there, but he wasn’t about to do that. It wouldn’t suit this homecoming. Turning off the gravel drive and onto the main road, he stuck out his thumb and turned around, walking backward into the night to catch any passing trucks and hitch a ride. His parents might have been wrong in the way they’d treated him, but they’d been right to be scared. There was something poisonous inside him. He could never get too close to anyone, could never let go, for fear of unleashing it. He’d believed it all his life, but something inside him had always protested it. This time, he would ignore that truant pull. This time, he would not disobey. His parents would be proud. He had learned his lesson well this time. They’d take him back if he made them understand that.

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Chapter Eight “You wanna tell me where the fuck you ran off to?” Mark’s tone was quiet, but there was no mistaking the rage in his voice. The shouting would start soon. It would only get worse from here. Gabrielle watched her husband from the doorway of the kitchen. Danny stood in the foyer, his shoulders slumped, his body shrinking against the door. She didn’t blame him. God help her, she loved her husband, but not like this. Never like this. “You better answer when I talk to you, boy.” “Nowhere. With a friend.” “Is that right? I didn’t realize you had any.” Danny’s blue eyes flashed with icy contempt, but he, too, kept his voice cool and even. He was a good boy. He knew how to control himself. “You wouldn’t know him.” “Well, I hope you didn’t wear out your hospitality,” he said. Danny stood, unmoving. He did not answer. “Did you?” Gabrielle’s hands tensed, and she bit her tongue. For thirteen years, she had listened to her husband remind her son he was a mutant, a monster, an abomination, and each time she’d had to bite back the tears, to remind herself that it was her son he was talking about, not her. Never her. Her husband might despise her son, but he loved her. He didn’t know her secret. She had been so happy to find him. Her mate, she thought, then chastised herself. After all this time, the old instincts still slipped out

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from time to time. She would have to remember to keep them better in check. It would be all right. She’d already been doing it for so long. She still remembered it, her past life. Back then, she hadn’t been much older than Danny. A planeswalker had kidnapped her from her plane. She had panicked and attacked him. He had died in transit, and she had ended up here. It was petrifying, being in such a distant place, one that apparently had no other supernatural beings. And then, impossibly, she had felt the pull. The mating instinct. She had all but given up on companionship here, but she’d found him, all the same, this strange, fragile human. The urge to bite, to claim him, had been so strong, but she’d been very disciplined at keeping it down. Her mate—her husband—was a big believer in discipline. “You settle on an answer yet?” Danny’s chest rose and fell, and then he picked up his chin and started toward the stairs. “You wanna tell me where you’re going?” Danny froze at the foot of the stairs. His hand clenched the railing. “Upstairs.” Mark rose from the couch, walking toward Danny with long, deliberate strides. “No, sir. You’re going to come back here, and we’re going to talk about this. About what you did.” He shuffled toward Danny, grabbing at the tail of his shirt to pull him back. Danny jerked away, and he grabbed his arm, roughly, yanking him back. So it was starting again. He hadn’t always been like this. He’d been so gentle when they met. When they first made love, he’d looked at her with such reverence, she could swear he felt the connection between them. She couldn’t give into it, though. Things simply did not work that way on this plane. Here in Texas, red wolves had been hunted into extinction, and werewolves were grotesque monsters reserved for midnight movies. One did not mate here. One got married.

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At first, it had been so hard to bite back the need to seal that connection, to choke down her instincts and push them out of her mind. It had made her antsy, nervous. On edge. Those feelings arose whenever she was around him, that terrible itch that made her crazy, made her only have to redouble her efforts to conceal what she was. But after a while, it got easier. She grew to see herself the way people here did. Disgusting. Monstrous. Uncontrollable. She began to have these terrible cravings. She would wait until he was asleep then slip out into the woods to unleash her wolf in a frenzy of unrestrained emotion. Back on her home plane, her wolf had been so peaceful, but here its urges, when she gave into them, had grown wild and violent. The beast inside her wanted only to destroy, to devour. It hated everything, even Mark. Especially Mark. She’d made a point to wander far into the woods before she shifted, afraid of what the beast might do if it encountered him. Even out in the remote wilderness, she’d done things out there in the dark cover of night that she wasn’t proud of, but like so many other things, she tried her best not to think of them. Did Danny have the same cravings? Did he feel the need to hurt, to destroy? Mark certainly seemed to think so, but Danny had never hurt his father, no matter how spiteful or rough he was with him. And he was being plenty rough now. He dug his fingernails into Danny’s arm, his teeth bared in a grimace, his eyes flashing with anger. But Danny held his ground. “I’m fine, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Danny said. “That’s not what I’m worried about, and you damn well know it. Who did you hurt? How many? “One,” Danny spat. “But don’t worry. He was a werewolf, too. So I guess it probably doesn’t bother you.” Mark yanked again at his arm, pulling him off the stair, shoving him against the wall. “Don’t you dare get smart with me. You think this is a joke? I am trying to hold this family together, and you…” “What?” Danny asked, a challenge in his eye.

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“You know what you did.” Did he? Gabrielle’s face burned as she silently watched them. What Danny did. Danny’s accident. Danny’s fault. Those oft repeated words had been the story, anyway, and she had told it for so long she almost believed it herself. Almost. Gabrielle took a few tentative steps out of the doorway of the kitchen. She stared at the simple black flats on her feet, as if they had moved of their own volition, willing her out of the spot she’d stood rooted to, trying to get her to intervene. She didn’t think she could. For so long, she’d left so much unsaid, she didn’t think it was possible to open her mouth now without every little thing tumbling out. And she couldn’t have that. Mark could hurt Danny, yes, but he would heal. It was one of their gifts as shifters. It would only hurt for a little while. She repeated that thought to herself like a litany while she watched Mark size up her son like a predator with his prey. “What happened with the Schoenherr kid?” he asked slowly. “Did he see anything? Does he know?” “No,” Danny said wearily. “You have to learn to control yourself.” “I have.” There was something in those words, some hidden sadness, that snapped something in her. She knew what it was like to hide herself, and it was killing her, killing all of them. Mark had said he was trying to protect their family, but they had never been a family, not really. She’d never let them. “Mark—” Two sets of eyes looked up at her before she realized her mouth was open. She snapped it shut immediately, terrified at the raw anger in Mark’s accusing gaze, but when she saw the look on Danny’s face, the first meaningful glance they’d shared in years, she continued. “Leave him alone.”

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“This isn’t your business, Gabby.” It is my business, she wanted to scream, but she didn’t. Instead, she let the urge fester and rot, growing cold and sharp and mean, like it had done for years. She could feel it changing her. She folded her hands in her pockets, closed her eyes, and shut her mouth until the feeling passed. She could go out later, explore it. Give into the urge. Until then, she didn’t want to give herself away. **** It had been a rare, shining moment when his mother, for the first time in God knows how long, had looked at him with sympathy and tried to come to his defense. Her words, however brief and quiet, had lit a hope in Danny that things would be different now, that his father had finally crossed a line she wouldn’t tolerate, and that he could finally find some compassion or understanding from his own family. That hope died when he saw her, as usual, shut her eyes to what was going on and shuffle out of the room with her hands in her pockets. What the fuck was wrong with this family? For the few weeks he had lived with Lars and his brothers, they had all stuck up for each other, looked out for each other. Alexander and Jasper had rushed to save Lars when he had tried to hurt him. He and Ben had befriended each other. No one attacked him there, although they had plenty of reason to after the sleepwalking incident. No one would have turned his back on Danny if he was being attacked. He tried his best to block out the memory. None of that mattered now. He couldn’t go back there—wouldn’t, not if he was a danger to Lars. He had already screwed up one family, just by being there and making everyone crazy with their constant worrying. He wasn’t about to do that again.

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He lifted his eyes to look at his dad, sizing him up, trying to figure him out. “I know you hurt that kid,” he said. “Just tell me what happened.” Danny leveled a steady glare at him. He was tired of keeping secrets. “He called me a queer,” Danny said slowly. “And I snapped.” “Why?” His dad’s fingers dropped from his collar like they were weighted with lead. “Because you provoked him?” “Probably because I sucked his cock.” Crack. Danny’s dad snapped his hand away from his face the moment it came in contact with it. For the first time since Thomas died, his father seemed afraid of him. He kept his distance now, backing instinctively up against the back of the couch. Danny touched his hand to his cheek. It stung, but that was all. Was this what he’d been afraid of all these years? He’d always known this day would come. His dad’s temper had gotten worse and worse over the years, and despite his warnings to keep control of his emotions, to be careful and calm all the time, there were times when he would jerk at a wrist or shove at a shoulder so hard Danny had figured it was only a matter of time before he hit him in earnest. He had worried about what he’d do when that happened. He had withstood a lot over the years, but physical abuse had never entered the picture. He had feared that his wolf would take over and fight for his own survival, maybe harder than necessary. But it had happened now, and he was okay. He had never felt more in control of his own emotions. “Show me your eyes,” his dad said, his voice wavering, and he snapped his head up to look at him. He could tell from the relief painted on his face that they were his usual pale blue, not the sharp yellow of his wolf. His dad had hurt him, but he wasn’t going to fight back. He was in control now. He could just walk away.

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“You shouldn’t hit me,” he said, keeping his voice strong and even. Noticing the fear that still lined his dad’s eyes, he added, “You might regret it.” The ambiguous statement did the trick. His dad didn’t move a muscle to stop him as Danny turned, walking past his dad, through the kitchen, and out the door to the back porch. Maybe his mom had been right all these years. Maybe the best thing to do was just to disappear into the night and come back with a cool head. “Danny!” his dad called after him hoarsely. Not “son,” not “boy.” His name. Danny turned. He would give him that much. “Don’t worry,” he said wearily. “I’ll be back.” He could hear the note of resignation in his own voice, the unspoken ghost of a sentence that followed it. I don’t have anywhere else to go. He flew down the steps of the porch and headed for the place where it tapered off into the shadows under the branches of the trees. It was either a natural clearing in the woods some real estate developer had capitalized on to build the smattering of houses on his street, or some construction company had bulldozed over the rest of the forest years ago. Either way, he’d never seen any place where the boundary between civilization and the wild was more deeply delineated than it was in his own backyard. There was something about this space, this area, that stirred something inside of him, tugged at his memory as if it held some special significance. Something about this place bristled the hairs on his neck and made him want to surrender to all the animal instincts he’d been taught so carefully to ignore in this house. Probably Lars, with all his psychological expertise, would have something to say about that, he thought with a snort, but despite his sarcasm, he felt the tug of his heart at the thought of his mate, and fought to dismiss its pull. He had nearly left the trim, tame grass of his lawn for the unruly forest floor when he stopped dead in his tracks.

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There, in the shadows, two yellow eyes were watching him. “Lars?” He approached him slowly, head down, one foot slowly lifting and dropping ahead of the next. Even in his wolf form, Danny recognized Lars, but this was not the controlled, collected strut of his wolf. In the pale light of the moon, he looked almost submissive in his approach. Danny approached him, walking further into the cover of the trees. It was that same pull that he’d felt weeks ago that drew his feet toward him, willing him to take the steps even before he’d had time to think through the barrage of questions racing through his mind. How had Lars found him? What was he doing here? Did this mean he’d changed his mind about their relationship? Would it even work? With every ounce of will he had inside him, he stopped his feet from moving. He could feel regret flooding off of Lars, and love, but the waves of emotion weren’t enough to wash away the memory of what Danny had heard him say. That it didn’t matter what they felt for each other. That they were better off apart. Lars had thought those things through and come to that decision, regardless of what he felt. He hadn’t put any faith in their bond or its ability to conquer his demons, and neither would Danny. From everything he had seen so far, all it had done was make things worse. “You can’t come see me like this,” he said quietly. “It’ll be hard enough to stay away from you as it is.” It would be hard enough to keep from dreaming, he added mentally. He’d gotten away from Lars for a few hours, but he didn’t know what would happen when sleep overtook him. Hopefully nothing. Hopefully the bond between them would fester and rot, and leave him alone with his own freaked-out past. He could just bottle it up deep inside himself again, where it couldn’t hurt anyone. All he had to do was convince Lars to go away. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

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Lars stared at him, his eyes big and glassy. “I don’t want to be with you.” His feet were planted. He didn’t turn around. “I don’t love you,” Danny croaked, his heart aching. His mate would feel that for sure, but he could make him understand. Lars always listened to reason. “You know what I am. What’s inside me. I can’t. I’m too fucked up. I don’t know how.” Lars stepped up closer to him and rubbed his muzzle against his side. His hand reached out absently and touched his fur before he pulled it away. He could have said more. That this was disgusting and wrong. That his wolf only reminded him of what he was and what he’d done. That he could never love anyone, let alone another freak like him. Instead, Danny just turned back to the house, eyes to the ground, and walked away. He couldn’t stand to look at Lars anymore. He turned on his heel to leave, but the sight he saw in front of him when he did rooted him to the spot. His dad was on the porch. How much he’d seen, he didn’t know, but from the look on his face, that same mixture of fear and repulsion he’d turned on Danny so many times, he could guess it had been long enough to learn exactly what Lars was. He could also guess what his dad intended to do about it. He was holding his Remington hunting rifle. It was trained on a spot just behind him. “Just go ahead and stop right there. That’s enough,” he said, pulling back on the handle to unlock the bolt. There was a tremble in his voice that Danny hoped didn’t spill into his movements. His hand was poised ready over the trigger, but gone was the calm, steady gaze Danny remembered in him from their hunting trips. Even if he hadn’t quite worked up the will to shoot, it seemed that any slight jerk or sudden movement could prove disastrous. “Danny, get away from that thing, and get back inside the house.”

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Danny held his ground. His mind was racing and his heart was pounding, but he had to stay calm. “What exactly were you planning to do with that gun?” “You know what I have to do. Get in the house.” A low growl erupted from behind Danny, and he could sense Lars as he approached his side. Gone was the submissive gesture he had adopted earlier. Now, his paws jutted straight out ahead of him, his body crouched, his ears pinned back, as ready to attack as his dad was with the rifle. “Get in the house before it hurts you!” his dad yelled, his voice rising in pitch and flooded with urgency. “He’s not going to hurt me,” Danny said, raising his tone to match his father’s. “He’s a wild animal!” “He’s not!” Danny shouted back. “He’s just like me.” Danny couldn’t read the reaction on his father’s face. He winced, but whether it was from fear or remorse or anger, Danny couldn’t tell. The barrel of the rifle, which he had held straight out with both hands, his eye trained on the sight until this moment, fell as his arms collapsed beneath it. For a bare moment, he thought that this admission might have somehow changed his dad’s mind. Then he heard the crack of the shot explode into the night. Danny didn’t know if his dad had slipped up and misfired, or if he had deliberately fired a warning shot, but he didn’t have time to figure it out as the shot scattered on the ground behind them, kicking up the dry, dusty ground. Before he even heard the chamber reload, Danny saw Lars spring out ahead of him, snarling, his ears pitched forward, tail pitched back, bounding toward his dad with lightning speed. Danny didn’t know how much damage the rifle’s ammunition could do to Lars, but he didn’t want to wait around to find out. Without thinking, Danny shifted into wolf form, springing at Lars, nipping at his heels and haunches, trying to get him to pull back. He began to turn just a fraction of a second before his dad fired another cartridge, again wild. This time, however, the shot flew close

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enough to graze Lars’s shoulders. He howled out in pain, even as the wound began to knit closed, and dove ahead of Danny to protect him from further fire, neglecting to notice that Danny wasn’t the one under attack. It was exactly what Danny was afraid of. Danny had seen him fire a rifle enough times to know that if his dad wanted to kill something, he aimed to kill. Lars might only be following his instincts to protect, but his dad wasn’t trying to kill him, only scare him, because he was scared himself. That fear made him all the more dangerous with his gun because obviously he wasn’t in his right mind. The farther Lars got away from him, the better chance both of them stood of getting away from this mess unharmed. Without waiting any longer, Danny took off like a shot into the woods, hoping like hell he was right to assume Lars would follow after him. He fled through the woods, running as hard and as fast as he could and didn’t stop until his legs burned and he struggled for air. The scene was a familiar one, played out dozens of times in his nightmares, the chase through town under the barrel of a gun or the pursuit of an angry mob. This time, however, the scene was different, less frightening in Danny’s waking life than it had been in even the most fleeting memories of his dreams. He was different now, more in control, and he smiled as he trotted to a stop inside Borderland State Park when he realized the reasons why. For one thing, he had outrun his pursuer. His wolf was fast, faster than his human, and if it had an increased potential to harm, it also had an increased ability to heal. For another, he had realized his dad could give him that dreaded disgusted look all day long, and Danny would pay it no heed. Never again in his life would he believe he was a freak, an abomination, an outcast, a loner. He couldn’t. Things were different now. He wasn’t alone anymore. ****

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It had hurt like hell to run on his shoulder while it was still healing, but Lars hadn’t had much of a choice. Danny had taken off like a firecracker, and Lars’s only thought had been to follow him. The fresh muscle that had sprung up to close his wound had torn with all the strenuous activity and sealed again, the cycle repeating itself until he felt he would nearly pass out, but Danny kept his pace, running with so much speed and agility and grace that Lars sensed the driving force behind his trek was equal parts self-defense and utter youthful abandon. When the merciless cub finally slowed his pace to a trot as they approached the Devils River, Lars had to resist the urge to tackle him. Whether that move would have been out of sheer thanksgiving that his mate was okay or the bitter need for payback, he couldn’t say. They’d gone a long ways, and fast. Borderland might not be a big town, and Danny’s father had seen them disappear into the woods, but there was no way he’d be able to catch up with them. And as long as they made it back to their house, Alex could keep an eye out for any trouble. He lived for that shit, Lars thought with a smirk. Satisfied that they were safe, Lars shifted and stretched out on the familiar bluffs of Ecstasy Rock next to Danny. The cliff was amazingly empty in light of the warm September night and the soft light of the full moon. He hadn’t been here for years. Was the place still as notorious an aphrodisiac as it had been when Lars was a teenager? Given the spot’s reputation, he would have expected to see half-naked adolescents everywhere. Instead, there was only one in his line of vision. Danny, too, had shifted, still panting from the miles they’d run. He rolled his head to the side to level a look at Lars. “You…fucking…dick…” he managed between gasps. “Scared the shit out of me.”

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Had Lars any breath left in his lungs, he would have gasped from shock. “I’m a dick?” he panted. “You took off…back to that triggerhappy maniac…if you ever make me rescue you again—” He had meant for his tone to sound menacing, given how terrified Danny had made him, but in the throes of his exhaustion, he could barely manage a whimper. A smile spread across Danny’s face as he turned it back to the stars above him. “Fuck off,” he said, still smiling. “I’m the one…saved you.” “Jerk.” Lars swatted an arm at him in reply then winced when the playful gesture sent shocks up his irate muscles. “Oh, ow…” Danny’s eyes widened, his head jerking over to Lars. “Your arm. Is it okay?” Lars nodded, his other hand rubbing his stiff shoulder as he tried to loosen it, rolling it in tiny, careful circles. “Better now,” he said. At the time, he’d mostly said it to reassure Danny, but as he turned to face him, his full naked frame pressing against Lars as he tenderly traced the line of muscle, Lars could feel another muscle stiffen, and he groaned at the bad timing of his unruly cock. No matter how picturesque their surroundings were, he had a feeling that being stalked by his father with a loaded gun probably wasn’t the world’s most effective foreplay. He cleared his throat, pulling away from Danny. “Sorry,” he said. Naked as he was, there was no way he could hide his ill-timed arousal. An apology was the best he could offer. “For what?” Danny asked, eyeing him coldly. The suspicion in his eye would have been bad enough, but on top of that, he could feel the cold chill of emotion rushing from Danny— inhibition, worry, regret. Things had gotten so life-and-death so quickly, he’d almost forgotten just how fragile things were between them to begin with, but he remembered a thing or two now. Like the fact that he’d acted like a world-class asshole. Lars blew out a heavy breath, pushing off the ground to sit up. The cliff continued ahead of them, disappearing into the darkness, but

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he knew what that darkness hid. The drop-off. And below it, the jagged, waiting rocks beneath the rapids. It was this very spot that a park ranger had spotted his parents leaping from ten years ago. Had he not been there, seen them, and radioed in for help, he might have lost them altogether, a fact that Lars regarded with equal parts gratitude and grief. Their wounds healed, but where the hell were their minds? For years, it had seemed cruel to leave them lying lifeless in the hospital, and he had bitterly regretted Alex’s decision to keep them there. His dream earlier had further stirred up those same old feelings, and he had expected upon arriving here to feel old wounds opening up as the memories of his loss sank in. He didn’t. Staring off into the darkness, hearing the soft crash of waves in the distance below, feeling the warmth of night surrounding him, he felt nothing but a sense of unexpected, overwhelming peace. It had been missing from his life for so long, he hadn’t even realized it was gone. Danny’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “It’s not fair,” he said quietly. “You keep everything so under control. I hurt you, I ran away, you got shot, but nothing fazes you. Even without…” His voice faltered. “You know. The nightmares. Fuck, it wouldn’t matter. It still wouldn’t work between us. There’s nothing I can give you. I’m too much of a mess.” Was that how Danny felt? Lars had been so concerned with helping him, he hadn’t stopped to consider why he’d done it. He had needed to be in control, to create the illusion that he could solve any problem, but that wasn’t a relationship. When he’d discovered Danny missing, he’d been shocked that Danny could have believed they couldn’t work through their problem, that he wouldn’t have even wanted to try, but Lars was starting to understand now why he’d left. Danny hadn’t thought it was their problem to solve. He’d thought it was his. And that was Lars’s fault.

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Danny sat up, hugging his knees to his chest. Lars could feel the fear and frustration wracking his inner world. Instinctively, Lars tried to cradle him in his arms, but Danny pulled away. He didn’t want to be held, but Lars needed so badly to feel his touch. “Control and calm aren’t the same thing,” he said, feeling the well of his own emotions tightening the back of his throat. Danny said nothing, only shrugged, the practiced pose of a scared kid pretending apathy. That single, callous gesture tugged the imaginary cord tighter against Lars’s throat. One word, one touch, one more minute of this ache inside him, and he’d crumple like he was made of paper. “So?” Danny asked him. “So I need you,” he choked out. That thin, fragile cord had snapped, and his body shuddered with the force of his tears as he collapsed against his mate. “I need you so bad.” Danny’s arms encircled him, wrapping around him, soothing him. They caressed his body and stroked his hair, cradling his head in Danny’s lap. He lay like that for a long time, letting the tidal wave of pent-up emotion, dormant for these long years, rush out of him. Lars had brooded over what had happened to his parents but never cried, afraid to let go of that weight that for so long had symbolized his last remaining connection to them. It didn’t feel like letting them go now. It felt like letting himself heal. It seemed like forever before that raging tempest of emotion finally calmed inside him, but it did, replaced by a peace that he had pretended for so long, but never possessed. He told Danny the whole story, from start to finish. How his parents had told him about the strange other world they came from as fugitives, wanting only to find a safe place to raise their children. How fragile and beautiful his mother had looked, and how deeply they had believed she was not human, but some ethereal being who listened to no voices other than the whims of fate. How she had told them of the pull she would feel from time to time, urging her out

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of one plane and into another. How she promised them someday they, too, would feel a pull, the pull of their own perfect mates calling to them to make a connection. How they had created their own private world for the boys, a world that was mostly cut off from that of their own peers. How they had never really felt like they belonged to this world, and how it didn’t matter because they had each other, their own perfect family. And how that family was destroyed by a single, faith-based leap into the abyss. “I’m so sorry,” Danny said. “All this time…” He struggled to get the words out, seeming to want badly to get them right. “You wanted to blame yourself, didn’t you?” Lars furrowed his brow. For all the time he’d spent convincing Danny not to do just that, he couldn’t say the same for himself. “At first, I didn’t feel anything. I think I figured I’d just beaten it, the grief.” He laughed a short, mirthless laugh. “Alex never gave up hope that they’d come out of it, but I didn’t believe that. Jasper was the most upset by it. I think he spent a long time trying different ways to cover up the pain, first by drugs and drinking, then…” Danny smiled weakly. “Fucking everything in sight?” Lars smiled. “More or less. I felt like I’d done better than the other two, maybe because I‘d graduated early from high school and was studying psychology at college. I knew all the clinical terms to categorize it. Delusional invincibility. Suicidal ideation. Whatever theory I could think of, I had a profile for. A set of symptoms.” Lars bit his lip. “I think a part of me did wonder if I should have noticed something was wrong. But a bigger part of me, a part that I was suppressing, wondered if somehow, maybe I was wrong, that science was wrong. That their bodies were here, but their minds and spirits were locked away in some other dimension. They were trapped between two worlds, but they were okay, and they were coming back.”

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Danny shrugged. “Maybe they are. You don’t know what’s going on inside them.” Then, tentatively, he added, “Stranger things have happened.” Lars swallowed. “Like what you saw happen to me tonight?” Danny glanced at him. “I know it doesn’t make any sense.” “It doesn’t,” Lars added, and Danny’s face fell. Taking a breath, Lars continued. “But I believe you.” Danny’s eyes shot up at this admission, shining with unshed tears. He shook his head as if to fight them. “Are we totally crazy?” he asked. “I mean…” Danny’s voice broke, but even as it did, he hugged his arms tighter against Lars’s body. Lars could feel every muscle in his stomach as it shook against him, and he lifted his head to look in his mate’s eyes. “I don’t care,” he said. “I would rather be there with you than anywhere you’re not. So help me God, if I have to battle death every day to wake up in your arms, I’ll do it. There is nothing—” He didn’t get a chance to finish. Danny cupped his face in his hands and pressed his mouth to his. Lars could feel the wet trace of tears on his cheeks, could feel his own body still shaking with the force of emotion, and he had to break the kiss to gasp for breath. Even as he did, he would not let Danny go, his hands grasping at his neck, his back, his arms, his thighs, unable and unwilling to break their embrace. He swung his leg around to straddle Danny, crawling into his lap. His cock, hard as a rock, rubbed against Danny’s stomach, and he groaned as Danny scratched his fingers down his back and palmed his ass, his fingers tracing the tender insides of the cheeks. “Fuck me,” he panted against his lover’s neck. “I want to feel you inside me.” Danny squeezed him harder, and he could swear he felt his cock throb against his. Lars reached down to stroke it as he continued to kiss his throat. Danny moaned as his thumb slid across the slick slit of

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his cocktip, but he pulled back, eyeing Lars nervously. “But you don’t—” “I want you to.” Danny slid his fingers between the round globes, tentatively pressing two of them against his hole. Lars drew in a ragged breath, and Danny’s ice-blue eyes searched his gaze. “Have you?” he asked. “Ever?” “Once,” he admitted. “In college. It was…” He bit his lip, refraining from completing the thought. An experiment. He didn’t want Danny to think this was anything so detached or exacting as that. Choosing his words carefully, he continued. “Not like this.” Danny nodded, but his expression fell a little. “You wanted to see what it would be like.” Lars smiled sadly. There wouldn’t be any hiding anymore, not from his mate. “How is it that you know me so well?” Danny shrugged. “Did you? Like it?” Lars dropped his gaze. He hadn’t. He’d been scared, and it had hurt. He’d been too embarrassed to tell his lover, hadn’t wanted to admit his weakness, hadn’t known how the guy, who he’d barely known, would have responded if he had. Would it be the same with Danny? He raised his eyes to meet his mate’s. They were full of concern and anxiety and need. “I like you,” he said, but that wasn’t it, didn’t come close to the truth. “Love you.” He drew one of Danny’s hands to his mouth and kissed it, then drew it inside his mouth, licking his fingers with long strokes of his tongue. Lars closed his eyes as Danny dropped his hand to the crease of his ass again, using the tips of those slickened fingers to circle the sensitive opening, teasing it. He pressed in gently, lacing the pleasure with a tip of pain. Nothing they hadn’t done before, Lars told himself as Danny’s knuckles pushed past the tight ring of muscles and he felt them clench instinctively. But then, Danny’s cock was a whole lot

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bigger than those two fingers. Danny withdrew and thrust in again, deeper this time, forcing Lars to lean over against him. He clutched Danny’s neck, tugging at his hair as he fucked in and out of him. When he felt those fingers scissor inside of him, stretching him for what would come next, he couldn’t suppress his yelp. “Okay?” Danny asked. Lars nodded. “Keep going.” Danny did, pressing in and pulling out, building a pressure in the pit of Lars’s stomach that his body was growing frantic to get rid of. He crushed his mouth against Danny’s, sucking his tongue into his mouth, trying to match his pace. When Danny pulled away, the corner of his mouth was upturned in that sexy, cocky smile. “You know, if you want something to suck on…” Lars rocked back, taking Danny with him. When his ass was in the air, he brought his palm down against its smooth surface, and Danny groaned. “Brat,” he whispered against the shell of his ear. “That is the absolute worst come-on I have ever heard.” “Oh, sure. Way less eloquent than ‘I’m gonna go take a shower.’” His sarcastic expression was replaced by one of amusement when he took in Lars’s face. “Are you blushing, mate?” “No.” The hot flush of Lars’s face grew under Danny’s watchful eye and teasing expression. “Maybe.” Danny touched a cool finger to his hot cheek. “I like you like this.” “Like how?” “Sweet. Sexy.” Danny grinned. “Vulnerable.” Lars could still feel the hot blush on his face, but he nodded. He liked it, too, this playful teasing, vying for dominance with his mate. Slowly, he traced his palm over Danny’s flat, pale stomach, then up toward his chest, harder, pushing him forcefully back onto the ground.

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“Little rough,” Danny said, his voice thin as Lars spread his legs and traced his hands up toward his cock. “You better be ready to give as good as you get.” His smart-aleck comments were silenced when Lars leaned over and took his length into his mouth. His tongue laved over Danny’s cock, taking as much of it as he could in big, deep thrusts. Danny’s hips surged upward, pressing against Lars’s fingers as he withdrew almost all the way out, his lips pressed around the rounded tip as his tongue lapped the salty pre-cum from its slit. Around and around he traced his tongue, exploring every ridge as he tugged at Danny’s balls. He worked his cock in and out of his mouth until they drew up, and then he pulled out, turning his tongue’s attentions over to the tight sac. “Keep that up,” Danny said, “and I don’t think I can hold out.” Lars smiled against his thighs, nipping at the soft flesh there as he worked Danny’s slick shaft with his hand. “Then I guess I’ll just have to make you come twice.” Danny’s body jerked and cum shot out of his cock, painting his belly. Lars moved his head to lap it up, enjoying the feel of Danny’s stomach quivering underneath him. Danny reached his hands down to play in Lars’s hair as he guided his head over each pearly drop. When he leaned up to suck his nipple into his mouth, he could feel Danny’s still-slick cock stiffening underneath him. He nipped at the side of Danny’s neck, watching his chest rise and fall with each deep breath he took. Danny’s hands slid down his ass, grabbing greedily at it before pulling one hot palm up and back down with a stinging crack. Lars’s cock jumped at the tingling sensation racing through him. Never before had he felt such a need to be possessed, dominated, invaded. Danny’s big dick pressed against his abdomen, electrifying his skin with need as it slid against him. “Ready?” he whined against Danny’s ear, and Danny nodded, turning his head to capture a kiss. “How do you want me?”

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“Hands and knees,” Danny panted, and Lars felt another surge of heat rush into his cock as he followed his command. Danny’s hands slid softly down his sides as he situated himself behind Lars. His heart pounded as the tip of his cock nudged between the cheeks of his ass and pressed against his hole. Lars spread his legs further to welcome it, unable to keep himself from clenching as he remembered its wide girth in his mouth. He wanted to trust his lover, but God, it had been a while. A gentle hand brushed against his ass to his thigh as if to reassure him, and then he felt himself breached by the first long stroke. It was such an unfamiliar sensation. At first, it was hard not to tense up, but he heard Danny’s satisfied groan and focused on the pleasure. Pulling back out slowly, Danny closed his hand around Lars’s cock and began to work the shaft as he thrust back in. His little mate knew exactly what he wanted. In and out, up and down, every cell in his body felt on fire as he was stroked, caressed, grabbed, and invaded. At first, the thrusts were slow and easy, but with each passing stroke, Danny seemed to lose hold of that careful control. His hand worked faster on Lars’s cock, tugged harder, squeezed at the balls, until Lars sucked in a breath. “I hurt you?” he gasped, but Lars shook his head, pushing back on Danny to meet his thrusts, desperate to force him deeper inside until he found that sweet spot that threatened to send Lars over the edge. The harder Danny thrust, the more Lars wanted it. He pushed back again, and Danny jerked against him. His hand slid back to the root of his shaft with each deep thrust in and his other hand gripped his hip, guiding him back and forth. Waves of electric pressure pounded through his body at a maddening pace. He couldn’t hold on any longer. He howled as his orgasm overcame him, sending his seed spilling out ahead of him. Danny continued to pound into him, one, two, three more strokes until he felt him jerk against him with the force of his

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orgasm, the wild thrusts radiating blissful aftershocks through his body to the tips of his fingers and toes. Danny snaked his arms around his waist to draw him close. Lars turned in his arms, pulling him down to the ground, letting him collapse on his chest. His face was slick with sweat as it pressed against him. “Holy. Fuck.” Lars grinned. “Second that.” Lars pulled Danny close, tangling his arms with Danny’s. “Next time we have sex, you’re going to have to fight to top me.” “Next time we have sex, I might not put up a fight.”

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Chapter Nine Mark Cowan held his Remington 750 Woodsmaster rifle across his chest with both hands as he stalked through the woods. Judging from every monster movie he’d seen as a kid, he would need a silver bullet to kill the thing he’d seen Danny run off with, but he imagined the 300-caliber slugs in his Woodsmaster would do a good deal of damage all the same. He hadn’t wanted to kill the thing, not at first, but Danny took off like a shot into the woods, and it had quickly followed after him. Whatever it was, he didn’t trust it. And whatever Danny was, he didn’t want him out there with it. He was going to get that message across, no matter what. He heard a rustle snap through the woods around him, and he froze, listening for the sound again as he lowered his rifle. When he saw the brown face peeking out of the trees ahead of him, he took aim and fired. As the ads suggested, one shot was enough. He had aimed for the spinal column and hit it. The shot should have been fatal, but the thing took off through the woods at a slow, limping pace. Mark watched it limp away, carefully following the blood trail to a clearing where he came face-to-face with the wolf, lying on its side, panting as it recovered. As she recovered. Mark did a double take. Could he be seeing that right? The wolf Danny had left with—the thing—had been male, hadn’t he? But not the one lying wounded in front of him. How many of these damn things were there?

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She growled at him as he approached her, baring her teeth. He took another step, and she snapped at him in defense, already seeming to regain some of her strength. Mark still had the advantage, though. He raised his rifle in defense. At this close of a range, he didn’t know what the slug would do. Apparently, the wolf didn’t either because she cowed her head and whimpered, as if she were begging for her life. That was when she began to change. He’d seen it happen many times before with Danny. He’d watched as his kid, his son, suddenly appeared in front of his eyes in the place where, only seconds before, a beast had stood. The movement had always been smooth and fluid. It only took a few seconds to complete, but all the same, it haunted him. What he was seeing now, however, was much worse. He had wounded her badly—too badly, it seemed, to transition smoothly back to humanity. She struggled against her wound, the patches of fur around it regressing slowly, her body seeming to battle to straighten out her spine as it continued to heal at that terrifying, miraculous pace. For years, he had known what Danny was, had hated and feared him for it. His son was a werewolf. But this was a monster. Worse still, it was a monster he knew all too well. He recognized her face. It was the face of his wife. “Gabby?” he asked fearfully as he lowered the rifle. His hands were numb. “You weren’t supposed to find out,” she said. He drew in a breath, deep and ragged, but the cool night air felt like battery acid in his lungs. All this time, living under the same roof, and he’d never seen it. He’d refused to see it, he corrected himself, stubbornly allowing himself to ignore what had been right in front of him. The late-night walks. The guilty, uncomfortable look in her eye whenever he criticized Danny. The way she changed after Thomas died.

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Panicked, he tried to block out the thought, staring into her wretched, naked form, at the wound on her back as it continued to close. “I didn’t want you to find out,” she said. “I didn’t want you to think it was my fault, the way Danny is, the way Thomas was—” Mark’s head jerked up, his heart rate surging again at the mention of the name he’d been trying so hard to keep down. “How did you know about Thomas?” he asked her slowly. He remembered the way the color had drained from her face when they discussed, for the first time, what Danny had done, and more importantly, how he had done it. She had looked so uncomfortable, so scared, that he assumed she’d been just as shocked as he was to learn that their son was a werewolf. That werewolves even existed. But apparently, she’d already known. She lowered her eyes. “I only saw it once,” she whispered. “They were so young, I didn’t know yet. I thought they were normal, but…” She trailed off with a sickening laugh. “They were playing out in the woods,” she said, and Mark felt his throat go dry. “I went out to get them for lunch, and I saw them. Danny was with Thomas, and he was running around like a little beast. I couldn’t stand it. I hated him so much right then. The way you feel about Danny—” Mark closed his eyes, feeling shame wash over him. “It was so much worse for me,” she continued. “I hated the sight of it, but mostly because I hated to be reminded of what I was. I knew, right then, that I would never escape it, no matter what I did. Not as long as that boy was alive.” “You killed him,” Mark said quietly. “It wasn’t Danny at all.” “I didn’t even know I had shifted until I was scratching him. He shifted back to human form, screaming at me. I think he wanted to yell for help, but I couldn’t stop. Not after I saw him change like that. It just made it so much worse.

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“I was so scared,” she said in a small voice. “Danny shifted and took off, and so did I. Only when I came back, you had already found him and assumed…when you saw…” Mark remembered. It had been terrible. At first, when he saw Thomas lying there, ripped apart, and the little red wolf standing whimpering next to him, he’d had a good mind to get his rifle. He was blinded by rage, wanting to murder the frightened little wolf cub. But then it had changed, right in front of his eyes, and suddenly things had gone from very bad to much, much worse. Danny had cried and cried, too traumatized to explain what had happened. The walk inside the house had been the longest of his life. Danny had kept wanting to touch him, to be comforted by him, but he pushed him away, feeling himself sick at what he’d seen and the tiny splatters of blood that were still on his son’s naked body. He had ushered him inside to the bathroom, wanting to get him cleaned up before his mother saw him, wanting to clean everything up before Gabby saw it. He still didn’t know what he’d tell her. Had he really just seen his boy emerge from that wolf? Could that tiny wolf cub have even managed to kill Thomas? He opened the door to the bathroom and confirmed his worst fears. Gabby was sitting in the shower, the hot water running down her back, crying and shaking. She screamed when she saw Danny, ordering him out of the room to talk to Mark alone. She told him what happened. Just as she saw it. “I never told you Danny did it,” she said weakly. “Only that I saw him shift, just before it happened. You’re the one who assumed…” Mark wasn’t listening anymore. He thought of how miserable he’d made Danny, how he’d hounded him all these years. How much he’d lost his temper, even as he screamed at Danny to control his own emotions. How he’d finally lost it earlier that night and hit him. He hadn’t hated him, no, but he hadn’t been able to love him, not after that day. He had never been able to get the image out of his head of

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Thomas, lying there amidst the dead leaves, scratched and bloodied almost beyond recognition. Anger welled inside him as he stared at Gabrielle. Her wounds were healed completely now. “You murdered him,” he told her. She screwed up her face in disgust, her canine teeth spiking out above her lip. “It was an accident,” she growled. “That’s what we always called it, anyway. Danny’s accident. You told the police it was an animal attack. You told me it was best we didn’t let others get involved in our business. You agreed it was best we keep it secret.” Danny’s accident. That had been his idea. He hadn’t wanted him to feel guilty, but he couldn’t help the way he reacted, the sinking repulsion in his gut every time he looked at Danny and thought of Thomas. Of what he thought he’d done to him. He had wanted to show him mercy, but he couldn’t fight his own instincts. A hot rage always rose up in his throat when he thought of it, and it was all he could do to keep from hurting the boy. It was the same rage he felt now, staring at Gabrielle. He felt his fingers gripping around the rifle in his hands. He had gotten her in one shot. There were still four rounds left. Gabrielle’s eyes widened as they saw him raise the rifle, and she snarled at him. He had meant to be careful, stealthy, in pulling it up. He still wasn’t sure yet if he planned to shoot it at all. In a flash, Gabrielle had shifted, and sixty pounds of snarling, snapping wolf lunged at him. Her last shift had been slow, but this one was lightning fast. It took Mark by surprise as he jerked up the rifle, helplessly, fumbling to reach the trigger. He didn’t think he would have time to shoot. **** Something had been wrong all day.

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Danny had never felt closer to Lars than last night in the woods, but a sense of uneasiness had settled over him the second they left for home. He’d imagined it could be any number of things at first. The memory of his dad as he’d chased them into the woods. The worry of what would happen when they got home and inevitably fell asleep. The uncertainty of how Lars’s brothers and Ben would react to him coming home if they thought he’d attacked him again. All of it had gone without a hitch, though. When they returned, dawn was nearly breaking. Alex and Jasper and Ben were all relieved to have Danny home. The weight of the long night allowed both him and Lars to fall asleep, and no terrible demons found them in their dreams. Instead, Danny was greeted in his sleep by something like a distant memory. He was at that strange place outside his house where the yard dissolved into forest, only he was much younger then. Something had scared him, and he took off into the woods, just like he had last night. Leaves crunched under him as he ran…but was it feet or paws that carried him through the forest so fast? He could only remember bits and pieces, and he had wanted to ask Lars if he’d had the same dream, if he’d remembered anything, but Jasper had burst into Lars’s room and dragged them both out of bed before he’d barely had chance to open his eyes. Now, they were gathered in the den, and Jasper was talking excitedly about something he promised was vastly important…assuming Danny could follow a single word he was saying. “It’s called Metyrapone, which is the same drug that’s used to treat Cushing’s Syndrome. Essentially, the syndrome occurs when certain triggers cause an overproduction of the hormone cortisol in the brain. In the daytime, cortisol regulates blood sugar and aids in metabolism, but at night, it plays a major function in dreaming.” Lars rolled his eyes. “Well, I wouldn’t exactly say major.”

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Jasper glared at Lars. “Really? You’re going to ruin this for me? ’Cause this is kind of my moment here.” “All I’m saying is that the vast majority of the neurological signals that occur during the REM cycle originate in the parietal lobe. That’s all I’m asking you to take into account.” “Says who? J. Allen Hobson?” Jasper snorted. “As a matter of fact, yes. You have a problem with Hobson?” Alex raised an eyebrow at Danny. “Do you have any idea what they’re talking about?” he whispered. “Nothing’s wrong with Hobson. It’s just that 1976 called? And they want their ‘groundbreaking research’ back.” “Well, 1995 called, and they want their joke back. And their trademark use of air quotes, which, coming from a grown man, is really just…sad.” “Oh my God, will you both just shut up?” Ben growled. “You know, some of us were actually listening before you started your little neuroscientific pissing contest.” “Will someone please just explain to me what neuroscience is?” Alex whined. “No!” Ben, Jasper, and Lars snapped in unison. “Fine,” Alex said. “But I don’t see why I have to listen to this if I don’t even—” “So Jasper can be the center of attention,” Danny explained, winking at Ben. “Exactly,” Jasper said, exasperated. “So, like I was saying before, cortisol is basically responsible for nightmares. It stops the flow of information between the hippocampus and the neocortex, which strengthens the force of memories by allowing you to free-associate them with related ideas and content from your waking life. This is particularly true of stress-related memories. But if the production of cortisol is limited—” “Your brain can’t make the associations, and you can’t have nightmares,” Lars said, cutting him off.

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“Way to steal my thunder,” Jasper muttered. “Like you were even going to get there.” Danny furrowed his brow. “So basically, I take this pill, and I’ll stop having nightmares?” Jasper nodded, glancing at Ben to gauge his reaction to the news. “That use of the medication is still experimental at this stage, but…yeah, pretty much.” That could be useful, Danny thought. He hadn’t had a nightmare last night, but wondering when the next one would be was like trying to fall asleep in a minefield—something that probably accounted for the sense of uneasiness he’d had all day. He couldn’t stop thinking about his dream, or the eerie feeling of déjà vu he’d experienced standing at the edge of the woods outside his parents’ house. Something had always kept him away from those woods before, but now that he’d crossed that line, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d run through those woods before. His wolf remembered them, he thought, but that was ridiculous. He’d never shifted in front of his parents on purpose. Well, almost never. There was last night, in front of his father. And there was… He shut his eyes against the thought. For years, he’d repressed the memory of his brother’s death. In the past few weeks, he’d finally felt like he was beginning to come to terms with it. But that didn’t mean he wanted such a gruesome memory back. He’d be more than happy to continue the rest of his life without it. “I’m in,” Danny told Jasper. He glanced at Lars. “You gonna write me a prescription, doc?” “Okay, first of all? Not a doctor. And secondly,” he began, turning to Jasper, “are you sure this is such a good idea? Unpleasant or not, nightmares still serve an important psychological function. What do you think the ramifications of just shutting them off like that will be? Jasper glared at Lars. “I think everyone in this house will be able to go to sleep at night with a clear head. Jesus, you better than anyone should agree with—”

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The doorbell rang. Alex stood. “I’ll get it. Not like I understand a damn word of this anyway…” Danny shifted his eyes back to Lars. “I agree with Jasper,” he said. “I want to do it. Isn’t it worth it for everyone to be safe?” Lars glanced at him. He didn’t look so sure. “It’s your mind, so it’s your choice. Obviously. But...” “But nothing,” Jasper said. “You want to do this, Danny?” Danny nodded. “Ben?” Ben didn’t look so sure either, but when Jasper called his name, he looked up and gave a weak smile. “If you think it’s the right thing to do—” “Then it’s settled,” Jasper said, clapping his hands together and cutting off his mate. Danny smiled at him, but his enthusiasm waned when he saw Alex return from the foyer, a look of worry on his face. “There’s someone here for you,” he said slowly. “She said she’s your mother.” Lars’s eyes widened. “How did she find us?” he asked. “Alex, this isn’t good. Last night, his dad—” Danny shook his head, stopping Lars’s speech. “My mom isn’t my dad. And honestly, I don’t believe he was going to hurt either of us. Definitely not me, if that’s what you’re worried about.” The look on Lars’s face told him it was. He reached over and took his hand. “Whatever’s going on with her, you don’t have to talk to her if you don’t want to. We can take care of it.” “It’s okay,” Danny said. “I want to.” His relationship with his mom hadn’t been the greatest, but he could still remember the way she’d intervened last night with his dad…or at least, tried to. After last night, he didn’t have any intention of going back to his parents’ house, and he wouldn’t have wanted to see his dad, but his mom...Danny bit his lip, glancing around the room. He’d seen in the past weeks how valuable a family could be. If his own mother was reaching out to him again, and alone this time,

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then maybe there was a chance Danny could still salvage his relationship with part of his family. And, he thought, he could press her for information about his dad. Crazy as he was last night, it would help to have someone keeping an eye out for any trouble that he might try to cause Danny and his new family. He smiled reassuringly at Lars then stood to walk down the hallway and meet his mother outside where she was waiting, wringing one hand in another in the nervous gesture he’d come to know so well. She smoothed her dress down her body in several gliding motions. Those hands didn’t seem to want to stop moving today. It didn’t seem like she’d slept much the night before. Danny approached her slowly, his hands in his pockets. “How did you find me?” She shrugged demurely. “A mother always knows.” “Does she?” Danny asked. He couldn’t help the strained note in his voice. He doubted his mother had bothered to learn anything about him in the last thirteen years other than to keep her distance from him. “I think that’s the most you’ve said to me since Thomas died.” She bit her lip. “Your father…he wasn’t the easiest person to live with. For too long, I let him tell me what to think, but now—” “Now what?” Danny asked, his face growing hot at the memory of what had happened last night. “You’re leaving him? You gave him a stern talking-to?” He almost had to laugh at the futility of it, at the impossibility of talking about it with this woman who was practically a stranger to him. “Do you have any idea how dangerous he is? He was bad before, but last night—” “I know,” she said, cutting him off. Her voice was louder now, almost a growl. Quickly she schooled her face into a polite smile. “You don’t have to worry anymore. I took care of him.” Danny couldn’t imagine his mother taking care of anything. “How?” She didn’t answer, only worried her hands in the pockets of her dress. “You can come home now. It’s safe.”

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“I have a home. I’m staying here.” “He won’t be coming back.” “Where is he?” “And now that he’s gone, we can get to know each other better. We’re so alike, you and I. I never got to tell you that with him there.” Danny stared at her, trying to meet the gaze she kept shuffling away from his. Her eyes were wild as they darted around, taking in her surroundings, glancing back to the woods behind the house. The anxious, uncomfortable way she kept smiling, kept shifting from foot to foot and letting her hands dance around, worried him. He recognized that behavior in himself. It was how he acted when he felt guilty. “How did you find me?” Danny asked again, finally capturing her gaze as he came closer to her. “I followed your scent,” she said slowly. Every muscle in Danny’s body went rigid as he digested what she said and what it implied, but she continued. “Your father was wrong. It isn’t a curse. It’s a gift. For both of us. It helped me find you.” “What is?” Danny bit down on his tongue until he could swear he felt the coppery taste of blood flooding his mouth. He could feel himself growing dizzy. For both of us. Was he hearing her right? She said it so simply, so matter-of-factly, as if he should be welcoming her news with open arms when instead he felt sick to his stomach. “What’s a gift?” “Your wolf,” she said in that same, simple tone. “Just like mine. Your father never understood what we were—” “Did he know? About you?” Again, she kept her mouth clamped shut, telling Danny all he needed to know. His head swam with the force of memories over the years, now colored differently in the light of this revelation. The way his father had treated him, and the way she’d stood back and watched, never interfering. He’d thought she was afraid of him, of his temper that was always threatening to explode into violence, but she must

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have known she could take care of herself. She should have protected him. She should have been his confidant, should have been there to understand, to talk to him about what he was going through, not shut him out for all this time. “It doesn’t matter. He’s gone now. I told you, I took care of him.” Her careful phrasing cut at Danny like a knife. “What happened?” he asked, but she didn’t reply. “Where is he? Did you tell him? Did he leave?” “I told him,” she said quietly. “He’s dead.” “You killed him?” He practically spat the words at her, they were so heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t had the best relationship with his father, had even been genuinely afraid of him after last night, but he didn’t think he could have brought himself to hurt him, let alone kill him, even seeing what he did last night. How much of that had his mother been aware of before she failed to show him mercy? Probably very little, he thought, watching her expression. When she told him, her face had shown with something like pride, not guilt. “I thought you’d be happy.” Danny reeled back, unable to listen. “What’s wrong with you?” Danny watched as his mother’s carefully constructed mask of control crumbled into a wretched expression of pain. “Wrong with me?” she repeated, her voice choking on the words. “Nothing’s wrong with me. I’m like you. You know how we are. We’re animals. We can’t control our instincts. We have these needs, these dark desires, to hurt things. Your father made us both ashamed of them, but there’s no need to be. It was an accident.” “Like with Thomas?” “Yes!” she replied, her wild eyes searching his face as she approached him, grabbing at his shirt. Instinctively, Danny backed away, but she held him tight. “That’s exactly what it was. Your father never would have understood what I did, but you—” “What you did?”

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Her eyes widened at the sound of his repeated words, and her hands slipped from his shirt, smoothing the wrinkles she left in the fabric when she bunched it into her fists. She rubbed them together nervously, averting his gaze. “It was all so long ago. Who can even remember what happened?” For a long time, that had been true. Only in Danny’s dreams had he remembered the bits and pieces of the puzzle he was now able to put together. He stood frozen, staring into his mother’s ice-blue eyes, the same blue as his own, as the memory of his dream washed over him. **** It was late fall, and somewhere in the distance, he could hear his mother calling him. It was after time to come inside for lunch, but he didn’t want to go inside yet. It was so nice outside. After months of Texas heat, the leaves were beginning to crunch under his feet and he had begun to feel a welcome breeze on his skin. It was almost cold, and he pulled his arms around him, grinning over at his brother. “It’s cold.” Thomas smiled. “I know a trick to make it warmer,” he said. “Want to see?” For the first time, he saw him shift. Danny giggled. This was better than playing pretend. He wanted to try it himself, but he couldn’t figure out how. It was like trying to move a muscle when he didn’t know where it was. Thomas wagged his tail and rolled onto his back, kicking his legs above him playfully. “I can’t,” Danny said, but Thomas just whined impatiently. Danny shut his eyes, trying to concentrate. That was when he heard the growl, low and long and not at all like the playful sounds Thomas’s wolf had made. This seemed to come from something big,

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and menacing, and angry. He choked down a dry swallow as he opened his eyes and looked. It wasn’t a wolf making the noise. It was his mother. Only her eyes weren’t the blue color his were. They were yellow. And narrow. Her teeth were bared, but they didn’t look like normal teeth, either. They were sharper, longer, and he couldn’t stop staring at them. He didn’t get a good look though. She had already begun her attack. In a flash of fur and claws, she had pounced on Thomas, and between his terrified whines and whimpers, Danny was too shocked at first to see that his mother, too, had disappeared into that mass of fur, was now fully wolf, like his brother. The larger wolf had pushed the smaller to the ground, scratching at him, trying to push him to the ground to tear at his throat. A horrible bitter taste rose in Danny’s throat as Thomas’s frightened whimpers rose into human cries of pain as his body returned, naked, shaking, beneath the wolf that attacked him. He was trying to form words. He was trying to tell her no, beg her for his life, but the words seemed to have no more meaning for the wild animal that attacked him. His heart was pounding, filling him with the need to rush over, to do something, but he was just a kid. He didn’t want to be hurt. Still, he could feel that need coursing through him, changing him, turning him into something else. Something stronger. Better able to protect. In his wolf form, he ran to his mother, nipped at her, trying to pull her off his brother, but it was too late. He lay still and bloodied in the grass. Long scratches of red ran down his body. Fleshy meat hung red and raw and loose from his torn throat. And the wolf was still there, staring at him, shoulders hunched over, ears down, baring her teeth. He had to get out. Danny ran, as fast as he could, through those woods. He ran, terrified, for his very life, with a speed and prowess he hadn’t known he possessed. At first, he heard the larger wolf behind him, but soon,

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he heard nothing but the snap-snap of leaves as his paws touched the ground with each bounding leap. When he heard his father crying through the woods, he came back, wanting only to be sure that no one else was hurt. He returned as a wolf because he wanted to protect his family, but from the look in his father’s eyes, scared and angry and distant, he didn’t think he would believe him. When he shifted back, he could do nothing but cry. Long sobs escaped his throat, and he reached for his dad, wanting him to hold him, but he wouldn’t let him get close. He choked back the need just like he choked back the memory of what happened, letting it sink down and down and down into the far recesses of his mind with each heavy, clunking step he took into the house. By the time his father pushed him into the bathroom to clean up, he could hardly even remember why he was crying. All he saw was the look of accusation on his mother’s pale and guilty face. **** “I remember.” Danny’s face hardened as he stared at his mother, backing away from her with the weight of his revelation. “I didn’t for so long, but I know now.” All this time, the dreams he had had, the inner demons that had haunted him…he had fought long and hard to get over the guilt of what had happened with Thomas. It had almost cost him his mate. And now, to realize it wasn’t even his fault? It was almost too much to bear. “You killed him. God, this whole time…you blamed me. You told me I was a monster, when you—” His mother crouched defensively. “I never told you that.” “You never talked to me! You hardly said a word to me—”

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She scowled. “I couldn’t risk him finding out. You know what he would have done to me.” “Probably the same things he did to me. Only you were too much of a coward to deal with it.” Her brows knitted together in anger, and she sneered at him. “A coward?” she growled, her eyes flashing with yellow. “Do you know who you’re talking to?” “I do now.” Her eyes narrowed at the icy tone of Danny’s voice. “I thought you, of all people, would understand.” “Understand what?” Danny cried. “That you’d rather make your son pay for your mistakes than—” “Not mistakes. Instincts. Urges.” Danny could feel the hot waves of indignation licking at his face. His father’s discussions of control may have made him miserable, but at the moment, he was grateful his mother had kept her mouth shut. He didn’t want to think of what would have happened to him if he’d had her to teach him that his wolf gave him the excuse to run wild and hurt people. “Wolves don’t kill their young,” he said. “That’s something you decided all on your own.” A quiet chuckle emitted from low in his mother’s throat. Her expression was cold and sinister. “Don’t they?” she said, the words disappearing on a growl as she shifted into her wolf form. Danny backed away as he saw his mother stalk toward him, ears pointed flat on either side of her head, teeth bared, body rigid and ready to pounce. Danny had spent his whole life in the shadow of guilt from the belief that he’d killed his brother. He’d only recently managed to pull himself out from that weight. Whatever his mother had done, he didn’t think he could live with the guilt of another death at his hands.

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He could run. He could shift and run. He’d been faster than her as a pup. He could outrun her now. But what about his new family? What would happen to them if he fled, leaving them behind? He didn’t have time to consider it before a chorus of growls erupted behind him. His mother splayed her legs in front of her in defense, her ears falling backward. He’d been trying to hold his ground with his mother, but he had a feeling that no matter how he looked, he wasn’t nearly intimidating enough to provoke that kind of reaction. Whatever was behind him must have scared her badly, and he nearly jumped when he felt the brush of fur against his hand as the growling beast came protectively to his side. Lars. Thank God. His mate stood beside him, emitting a low, warning growl that made his mother lose her ground, scooting back on her hind legs, but that wasn’t the only sound he heard. He glanced over his shoulder, and his chest swelled at what he saw there. A family. His family. His pack. He lifted his head as he turned back to his mother. “You can’t hurt me,” he said. “I have a pack now. If you try to hurt me, you’ll have to answer to all of us. Because we take care of each other.” His mother whined, her tail lowering in a submissive pose. Her front paws dug at the ground, almost as if she was begging. “You aren’t welcome here,” Danny said. “If you come back, if you try to hurt us—” Lars leapt out in front of him in a burst of dominance. Behind him, Danny heard the growls of the others. His mother backed away again, retreating into the shadows of the trees that lined the gravel drive. With a last long look, she turned tail and slunk away.

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Chapter Ten Danny woke up happy. The pill that Jasper had given him, Metyrapone, seemed to be working for now. It had been weeks since his mother’s visit, and despite Lars’s skepticism, things had gone smoothly. There were no new nightmares, and everyone in the house had seemed to relax in their absence. He hadn’t seen his mother since that day she’d told him about his dad and Thomas, either, although Lars had promised that today, he could go to the hospital with him to visit his own parents again. Danny sighed with contentment, feeling his mate’s body pressed against him. For once in his life, things finally seemed to be under control. Shifting restlessly, Lars drew him closer into the warmth of his body, his ass pressing firmly against Lars’s cock. At least most of his body was in control, Danny thought with a smirk as his dick responded to the touch out of its own volition. “Good dreams?” Lars murmured against the shell of his ear. It had been his joke ever since they’d started the medication. Danny sighed. He knew Lars missed their dreams together and was eager to try, under whatever supervision necessary, a method that would allow them to share their dreams again. Danny furrowed his brow. Had he dreamed anything? The Metyrapone should have stopped the day’s worries from organizing into coherent thoughts, but he thought he remembered a flash of image or sound once and again. Once or twice he swore he’d glimpsed a door, the same one he’d seen in his dream that night Lars got hurt. Only now, the door was different. That angry shade of blood red that had made it so foreboding had faded from it and disappeared.

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It was just an ordinary door now. Danny stared at the door to the room. To their room, he thought happily as he looked at Lars. “I saw it again,” he said. “The door.” Lars nodded. He’d told him about it before. “You said you’d seen Thomas before, too?” Danny nodded. “When I’m falling asleep sometimes. He’s different now, too. Less scary, or whatever.” He paused, turning over the description in his mind. Yep, that was exactly right. “What do you think it means?” “I think it means it’s over.” Danny craned his head around to look at him, awaiting an explanation. Lars’s brow furrowed in thought, as if he was working through the words that had slipped from his mouth, then he continued. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. The red door and Thomas. I think it was a sort of connection between you, a painful connection, one that was changing your memory of him. Making it warped and twisted and vengeful.” Danny brightened. “Like with Sméagol and Gollum in the Lord of the Rings movies? Ben and I watched them on DVD last week.” Lars rolled his eyes. “Well, they were books before they were movies, but yes. Kind of like that. Whatever guilt you had over believing you’d killed him, it was poison to him. Like the ring was for Gollum. Only now, you don’t feel that guilt anymore.” Danny smiled. “So he’s sort of free now?” “Is that how he seems? When you remember him?” Lars’s hand squeezed his shoulder, and Danny relaxed against his touch. He could relax now. When he saw Thomas now, he was no longer the twisted shadow that had haunted Danny’s dreams, but the carefree young kid that he’d once played with a long time ago. Danny nodded in answer to his question. “Yeah. It is.” Lars pulled him closer, and he turned to face him. Danny pressed against his chest, breathing in his scent, and Lars held him tighter. He took a deep breath of that scent for courage, and then he spoke. “I think I’d like to try dreaming again.”

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Lars raised an eyebrow. “Really?” His hand slid over Danny’s face, brushing his hair out of his eye. Danny closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of his mate’s soft touch. “Sure.” He smiled. He’d expected his voice to come out shaky and unsure, but there wasn’t a note of trepidation in it. Lars pressed a kiss to his brow. “That makes you happy?” Danny traced a line down Lars’s chest. He paused over his nipple, rubbing it with his thumb and smiling at the way Lars sucked in a breath when he did. “Sort of. I guess I’m just surprised it doesn’t make me scared.” Lars trailed kisses down the side of his face, licking a spot on the shell of his ear. Danny sighed, running his own hand down the ridges of Lars’s abs to stroke his balls. Lars moaned against his ear. “You know…I do find bravery a very sexy quality in a man.” Danny cupped Lars’s rock hard cock in his hand. “Yeah, I can tell.” Lars nipped his earlobe. “Brat.” Danny grinned, pushing Lars down on the bed to straddle him. He pinned his arms down on the bed, leaning in to kiss his mate. Lars’s tongue dove into his mouth eagerly, the kiss deepening as the tip of his cockhead ground against Danny’s hole. Nipping at Lars’s bottom lip, Danny scooted back, adjusting himself lower. Lars looked at him inquisitively as he wriggled out from Danny’s hold on him and pulled away from their kiss. “Are you trying to top me?” “I was trying to suck your dick, but if you want me to stop…” Lars held up his hands as if to protest the very thought. “I didn’t say a word.” Danny couldn’t keep from giggling at the look on Lars’s face as he started to lick a trail down to his cock. “I might have tried to convince you to turn around, but…” Danny moaned around a patch of Lars’s stomach. Lars laughed. “I take it you like that idea?” It seemed unlikely to Danny that there would ever be such a thing as an International Sex Olympics, but after the next few seconds, he

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was convinced he could have won a gold medal for the world’s fastest repositioning. He crawled over Lars, drawing his thighs up to grab onto them as he sucked his long, stiff cock into his mouth. For a moment, he lavished attention onto the head, lapping up the pre-cum glistening inside the slick slit with tiny, teasing strokes, but he lost his control as he felt two big palms tighten on his ass cheeks and his cock enveloped by the warmth of Lars’s mouth. Desperately, he tried to concentrate on the slow circles he was trying to trace along Lars’s cockhead, but the long, driving pulls with which Lars grabbed his waist, thrusting Danny’s cock into his mouth were making it impossible to focus. “Cheater,” Danny panted. He whined at the loss when Lars pulled his own cock out to reply, “Cocktease.” They continued, each of them working against the other to bring down his defenses. Danny brushed his thumb across the balls, gently tracing the curves of his wrinkled sac as he traced his tongue along the vein beneath the head of Lars’s cock, relishing his victory when he felt Lars suck in a breath beneath his body and around his dick. The feel of the rough, driving thrusts below and his practiced teasing of Lars’s cock from above was about to drive Danny out of his mind, but he continued his slow, painstaking pace, lavishing every inch of his lover’s cock with attention for as long as he could stand it. When he felt the sharp bite of a dry finger press into his ass, he determined he couldn’t stand it any longer. The thin, taut thread of Danny’s control snapped with the bite of pain lacing his pleasure, and he pulled Lars’s thighs close to him as he sucked his balls into his mouth. That single finger set off a cavalcade of electric sparks through his tight channel as it worked its way in and out, snapping his control with the force of the friction. “Fuck!” he shouted as he felt his cock pulse and spurt, releasing his orgasm down Lars’s throat as Lars continued to suck him, keeping

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him tightly sheathed inside his mouth until white spots began to swim inside his vision. Danny pulled away from Lars, panting. His hand continued to stroke him. “What do you need?” he asked desperately. “You wanna fuck me?” Lars nodded, and Danny lay down on the bed. He barely had a chance to spread his legs before he felt himself impaled from behind by the wet cock sliding all the way into him. Danny groaned as Lars’s cock nailed the sweet spot inside of him, again and again, the rocking motion pushing him against the soft cotton sheets. He hadn’t thought it would be possible to get hard again after that last orgasm, but that rhythmic, rubbing pressure had him fisting the sheets beneath his hands with every single glorious motion. Lars’s hand ran through his hair, over his back, down to his ass to grab and smack it with a hot, stinging crack. That hand kept moving, not seeming to know what it wanted. When he brushed it across Danny’s face, he licked and kissed it, pressing it to his mouth with his own hand. Lars sighed with contentment when their fingers contacted, interlacing his fingers with Danny’s and squeezing tightly. That was what he’d been seeking. He had wanted to hold his hand. “Mine,” he panted out. Danny felt his heart surge and nodded, squeezing him back. “Yours. Forever.” He felt Lars jerk and tighten above him, and Danny rode the throes of his mate’s orgasm until he felt his own release. Lars pulled out, collapsing on top of him, and Danny could feel the mile-wide smile lining his face as it pressed into his back. Danny wiggled out from under him, craning his head to see that gorgeous smile for himself. ****

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Room 337, his parents’ hospital room, and the path from the main lobby up to it, was etched in Lars’s memory from the sheer number of times he’d visited it. All the same, he still got nervous walking down the corridor every time, as if some shocking news or horrible surprise was going to greet him there. It was stupid and irrational, but he didn’t bother hiding it from his mate…especially with the way Danny sweetly took his hand in his along the last hallway as they approached the room. Lars smiled to himself then cleared his throat, hoping none of the long-familiar hospital staff had noticed the hard-on that was starting to tent out in his pants. After the epic fuck they’d had this morning, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to hold hands with Danny again without conjuring up a collage of mental obscenities. “Almost there,” Danny said, and Lars nodded silently. Danny knew the way almost as well as Lars did by now. He smiled at the grumpy old nurse manning the nurses’ station as they approached the room. Betty. She’d never offered the information herself, but that was what her nametag had said for the past ten years. Betty raised an eye at the two men holding hands then went right back to one of the magazines she was perpetually flipping through, probably counting down the minutes until her next cigarette break. Lars turned his attention back to Danny, but stilled as he saw the look on his face. His hand still gripped his, but it was tense and stiff. He started to ask what was wrong, but then his eyes followed the line of his gaze inside the room. His parents were asleep, like always, the life support machines beeping and humming as they always did. The flowers Alex had brought last week sat on the nightstand next to them. The TV still droned out a tired old talk show from its position on the wall. Only one thing had changed. Someone sat alongside his mother’s bed, watching her with wide and curious eyes. But it wasn’t Ben or either of his brothers. He was small, and thin, and frail, and about Danny’s age, but Lars had never

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seen him before. Judging from the look on Danny’s face, neither had he. As if he felt their eyes upon him, the boy looked up, blinking at the doorway where Lars and Danny stood. There was no reason to be alarmed, Lars told himself as his heart pounded in his chest. He could be a friend of Jasper’s, or Ben’s, or Alex’s. His mother had tutored students at the high school when he and his brothers were growing up. He could have been one of her students. So why the hell was this pale ghost of a kid so terrifying to him? “Do I know you?” he asked. “I’m Lars, Adrianna and Mitchell’s son.” The boy’s eyes widened, and he nodded slightly. “I see.” Lars watched him uneasily, and he rubbed his hands against his pant legs, then rose, walking to shake his hand. “We haven’t met. I’m Jacob.” Lars nodded weakly. “This is Danny.” Jacob shook both their hands. His hand was so small, Lars thought, as if he could snap it off if he wanted to. He only remembered one other person whose touch had felt so fragile like that. His mother. He choked down a dry swallow. Jacob bit his lip, smiled thinly at him. “We should talk,” he said. “I know your mother.” Lars nodded. “She had a lot of students. They don’t come by much, but it’s been a while.” He glanced at Jacob again, trying to guess his age. “You must have been young when it happened,” he said. “You don’t look—” Jacob held up a hand to stop him. “She wasn’t my teacher,” he said. “I guess our relationship’s a little more complicated than that.” Lars heart stilled, and he exchanged a glance with Danny. “I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong person. She’s been in a coma for ten years.” “I know,” Jacob said. “The nurse told me.” He glanced nervously outside toward Betty. Lars raised an eyebrow. Damned if he’d ever gotten a word of information out of the woman. His gaze returned to

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Jacob, whose green eyes stared at him with a startling intensity. He bit his lip, his gaze flitting nervously from Lars to Danny and back. Finally he took a breath and finished. “I don’t know how to explain it,” he said slowly. There was something strange about the kid, some ethereal quality that set him apart from the rest of their surroundings. Lars was jarred from his thoughts, however, by the last words he spoke. He said them quietly, but there was no mistaking the significance behind his tone, as if he knew already the effect they’d have on Lars, the way they’d root him to the spot he stood and steal his breath from his throat. “I’m a planeswalker, too,” he said. “I see her in my dreams.” For a moment, it was as if everything had spun around him. He couldn’t catch his breath or get his bearings. He turned around, first walking then running from the hospital room, but Danny caught up to him. He pulled Lars into his arms, and their eyes met. “It’s okay,” he said quietly, stroking his hair with his other hand. “It’ll be okay.” Lars shook his head. “I can’t do it again,” he gasped. “Go through all that? And if he’s wrong, if there’s nothing to it…I left it all behind. I gave up on it, and then you came, and I didn’t know what to think, only now…fuck.” He looked at Danny desperately. “They told us there was a whole world out there, full of people like us. They told us we would go back there, but I can’t get this close to it only to…and get my hopes up again if…fuck. Fuck, fuck…” Lars pulled in a deep breath, but it hurt to do it. His chest was tight. He was having palpitations. Good God, could he even breathe? His hands were tingling, and the room was starting to dissolve into ever-widening black spots. That was when Danny kissed him. He literally didn’t see it coming. When he pulled away, gasping for breath, he could see the hospital clearly behind him. His heart was still hammering like a madman, but it no longer seemed to threaten to explode in his chest. His mate was here. He was holding his hand.

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“What’d you do that for?” he asked, searching Danny’s pale blue eyes with his own. Danny smiled. “Two reasons. One, to distract you. You were really freaking out. I could tell. I’ve been there.” Lars nodded, numbly. “You are really getting very smart. Have you taken that GED yet? I think you’re gonna knock it out of the park.” Danny pressed a finger to his mouth. “No more distractions. I’m not done yet.” Lars nodded. “What was the other reason?” Danny ran a hand through his hair. “Because no matter what happens, I’m here. And I love you.” Just hearing the words seemed to steady him. Lars nodded, his throat tight. “I love you,” he said, and took a breath. It came easier this time. Danny stroked his arm. “You should talk to him,” he said quietly. Lars stared at him blankly. That he wasn’t quite ready for. He closed his eyes, repeating the words like a litany, or a charm to ward off whatever lay ahead of them. “I love you.” “Then that’s all that matters,” Danny said. “You ready?” He smiled and took Lars’s hand. “Bastard,” he said. “You know I can’t think when you do that.” “I know. That’s why I did it.” Lars nodded, training his breath to calm as best he could. He concentrated on Danny’s thumb gently rubbing back and forth against the back of his hand. “I’m ready,” he said. He felt the tug of Danny’s hand pulling him back toward the room, but he couldn’t will his feet to move. “Are you sure?” Danny asked. Lars looked in Danny’s trusting eyes, felt the weight of his hand on his, and smiled. “Only if you come with me.” Danny squeezed Lars’s hand in reply, and Lars pulled him gently back toward the room, toward Jacob and whatever new adventure

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awaited them there. They each took a step toward it, then another, and together they walked down the hall to meet their destiny.

THE END http://www.facebook.com/pages/Ellen-Ginsberg/

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Ellen Ginsberg is the pseudonym of an Austin-based writer who has published numerous works of fiction and nonfiction and has had plays professionally produced in New York, Washington DC, Chicago, and across the Midwest. She graduated from Truman State University with her Master’s degree in English in 2010, and moved to Austin, TX with her husband, who, as a heterosexual male, may nevertheless be the single most enthusiastic supporter of her recent endeavors in M/M erotic romance. She loves her readers dearly and invites them to email her anytime at [email protected].

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