Star-Crossed Mates

Spirit Wolves 5 

Star-Crossed Mates Klaus and Clay are mates, but their relationship is strained by Klaus's duty toward Wolfram. For over ten years, Clay waits for Klaus to come to him, to leave The Magistrate's side and complete their bond. When Wolfram finds his mates, Clay dares to hope once again, but Klaus still rejects him. Unable to compete with Wolfram, Clay flees Klaus's side, only to find his other mate, Ross. Having been tormented by the feral Joseph, Ross is forced to betray his rescuers, the spirit wolves. He doesn't expect meeting Clay or receiving another chance, but Clay helps him escape. Now on the run from both spirit wolves and ferals, Ross risks losing his mind to the feral virus. It is up to Klaus to save his two mates. Three star-crossed mates are separated by distrust, sorrow, and dark secrets. Can Klaus make the right choice before it is too late? Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Vampires/Werewolves Length: 29,592 words 

 

STAR-CROSSED MATES Spirit Wolves 5

Scarlet Hyacinth

MENAGE AMOUR MANLOVE

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK IMPRINT: Ménage Amour ManLove

STAR-CROSSED MATES Copyright © 2011 by Scarlet Hyacinth E-book ISBN: 1-61034-654-8 First E-book Publication: August 2011 Cover design by Jinger Heaston All cover 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 Star-Crossed Mates by Scarlet Hyacinth 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 Scarlet Hyacinth’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Hyacinth’s right to earn a living from her work. Amanda Hilton, Publisher www.SirenPublishing.com www.BookStrand.com

 

DEDICATION Lots of hugs to all the readers who've been with me through this journey. In the name of Drew, Val, Trent, Dan, Linden, Ash, Wolfram, Fritz, Dietrich, Paulie, Sebastian, Marcus, Klaus, Ross and Clay (phew, that's a lot of them), I thank you.

 

STAR-CROSSED MATES Spirit Wolves 5 SCARLET HYACINTH Copyright © 2011

Prologue “Would you like some cookies, sir?” The tall man in front of him turned and looked down at Ross. “Cookies? I’m not much for sweets, but I’ll try one, for your sake.” Ross offered his prospective client a sample and waited as the man munched on the sweet. He found the way the stranger ate very strange. It reminded Ross of the shows he glimpsed on the Discovery Channel, with predators jumping on unsuspecting prey—a very odd analogy given, in this case, the prey was a cookie. But Ross couldn’t help it. The man gave him the creeps, with his black hair and black clothes, and an all-around dark feel. Every cell in Ross’s being screamed to get away. Ross would have preferred to avoid the stranger altogether, but tourists were rare in their small town, and he needed to get money somehow. So he sold cookies baked by his adoptive mother to whoever seemed to have enough money to buy. Still, he might have dodged the need to engage the dark man in conversation if not for his sister’s presence. She’d been the one forcing him to talk to the enigmatic stranger. Damn Bitch. That’s what he called her. Bitch. He didn’t even bother remembering the names of his numerous adoptive families these days. He’d jumped through so many he’d lost count.

 

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Ross hoped to get this damn thing over with as soon as possible and run away to hide somewhere neither his adoptive family nor any weird customers could reach him. So he did his best to smile and willed the man to pay for the cookies. The stranger arched a brow at him, then grinned. “You’re an odd one, aren’t you?” The knowing look in the man’s dark eyes scared Ross. He couldn’t know, could he? The only ones who realized the truth about his abilities were his adoptive parents and siblings, and even they didn’t fully understand it. They’d figured out Ross had an uncanny knack to convince people to do what they didn’t need or want to do. Ross himself didn’t grasp the extent of it. He just remembered what his real, birth parents always told him before their mysterious disappearance. “Never show your talent to anyone. It’s dangerous and people might hurt you if they know about it.” In his heart, Ross knew they were dead. They wouldn’t have left him otherwise. But it was too late for regrets now. Ross needed to learn how to survive on his own. He counted the days until his eighteenth birthday, until he could leave this place and build his own home. He had exactly six years, five months, and ten days left to go. So Ross armed himself with patience and tried to mask the increasing fear. He ignored the man’s question and offered one of his own in place of a reply. “Do you like the cookies?” “Oh, yes.” The stranger chuckled. “I’ll take them all.” Ross gaped. For a few moments, he even forgot about his fear, too enthusiastic about the sale to care. “A–All of them?” He waved his sister closer, and she approached carrying the rest of the packages. “We have lots.” The man shrugged and retrieved his wallet. “How much?” “Five hundred dollars, sir,” Ross’s sister answered. The outrageous sum made Ross choke. No way were the cookies worth that much. But the stranger didn’t comment. He just paid for the sweets, took the packages, and walked away.

 

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Ross would have been happy about it, if he hadn’t caught the dangerous gleam in the man’s eyes as he walked away. He unwillingly shuddered. “What’s wrong with you?” Bitch asked. She didn’t even wait for an answer. “Come on, let’s go. Mom’s going to be so pleased with us.” Ross obeyed in silence. He ignored all of her jabs, which only got worse once they reached their so-called home. He didn’t comment on any of the Senior Bitch’s insults, and fled as soon as he managed to escape them. He had a little hideout in the shrubbery behind the house. No one ever came there because no one ever bothered to look for him when they didn’t need him to work. He climbed into a tree and leaned against it, feeling life buzzing around him, the rough bark strangely comforting. He didn’t know how long he just sat there, enjoying the simple pleasure of the wind caressing his face. All of a sudden, an odd dark sensation niggled at his brain. He jumped out of the tree, intending to retreat into the house, but he didn’t get the chance. A strong hand grabbed him and pulled him into the bushes. Ross tried to cry out, but a heavy palm covered his mouth before he could do so. “Shh,” the familiar voice whispered. “Wouldn’t want anyone in the house to hear.” Ross gulped. It was the stranger from before. Oh, God. He’d just known something like this might happen. He should have run. He should have never tried to use his talents. But in truth, he didn’t have any real control over them. More often than not, they were erratic. He attempted to will the man to let him go, but his captor just chuckled. “I’m afraid your power doesn’t work with me, child. But you have great potential. Don’t worry. I’m going to teach you everything you need to know.” Ross began to struggle. He managed to land a hard blow into the man’s belly. It had no effect, though, other than irritating his captor. “It would seem you won’t come willingly, little Ross. Not to worry. You’ll learn to obey me in time.”

 

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Ross tasted fear in his mouth at the dark promise. One last word registered in his mind before a sharp blow to the back of his head sent him into unconsciousness. “Joseph.” Even as the world dimmed around him, he knew he’d fear that name for all time.

 

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Chapter One Ten years later Clay waited on the bed, nervous butterflies fluttering in his stomach. This was it, the moment he’d been waiting for. Ten long years, he’d waited patiently. Ten years, during which he’d watched Klaus from afar, knowing another man occupied his rightful place and had stolen his mate from him. Had things been different, Clay would have fought it with all his might. But he couldn’t compare to his opponent. He didn’t have a chance against the Magistrate. But now, Wolfram found his own mates, two of them. Dietrich and Fritz could take on Klaus’s duties. His time had come. At last, during the celebration for Wolfram’s mating, Klaus approached him. By rights, Clay should have pushed his mate away. He knew the other man used to sleep with the Magistrate on occasion. He suspected it stopped after Klaus met Clay, but even so, Klaus chose to stay by Wolfram’s side. The betrayal still made Clay’s soul hurt, but he’d been unable to refuse Klaus. After all, he could feel the other man’s pain and desire just like he did his own. After his family left the Magistrate’s Den, he’d stayed behind to explore the new possibilities. The sex was amazing, but Klaus showed no intention of claiming him. Clay decided to confront Klaus tonight, to ask him outright if they ever had a chance of making their relationship a true, official mating. He didn’t feel ready for it, but then again, he doubted he ever would.

 

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As he sat there, the door opened, and Klaus’s familiar figure appeared. A smile spread on his handsome face. “Hey there, babe,” he whispered huskily. “To what do I owe this wonderful surprise?” Warmth spread through Clay and arousal pooled into his cock. Klaus’s honey brown eyes turned almost black in an echo of Clay’s need. Just like that, Clay forgot all about serious conversation. His brain switched off, and his body turned to “fuck now” mode. He somehow remembered to offer Klaus a reply. Unsurprisingly, it came out flirty and coy. “What? Can’t I come visit my own mate?” Klaus’s smile widened. “But of course. You’re always welcome in my room and in my bed.” Clay didn’t have the time to process those words. Klaus crossed the space between them and jumped on the bed. In a flash, his mouth crushed against Clay’s. The other man licked across the seam of Clay’s lips and Clay eagerly allowed him entrance. He tasted his mate with greed, loving Klaus’s flavor. Their tongues dueled in a battle for dominance. Clay didn’t know who won. Perhaps they both did because the kiss just seemed to get better and better. Their hands desperately worked at clothing, reaching for zippers and buttons. Shoes, shirts, and pants flew off in a flurry of material as they struggled to get skin to skin. Clay was pretty sure some of it didn’t survive the frenzy of their passion, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered in front of the need to be together. At last, they were naked, writhing as one on Klaus’s silken sheets. Klaus’s hard dick throbbed against Clay’s thigh. They broke apart briefly to position themselves better on the bed. Klaus’s fist engulfed both their cocks, and the touch of Klaus’s talented hands on his prick made Clay groan in pleasure. He thrust against Klaus, their shafts sliding against each other with their own pre-cum facilitating the slide. Clay couldn’t get enough. He wanted more, more of the delicious contact, more of Klaus. He swept his hands over Klaus’s sweaty skin,

 

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loving the feel of each and every inch of flesh. “Fuck me, Klaus,” he whispered. “I need you to fuck me.” Klaus growled lowly and flipped Clay on all fours. His hands cupped Clay’s buttocks, making him shudder in lust and need. When his mate separated his cheeks, Clay pushed his ass up, wordlessly demanding what they both needed. He ached to feel Klaus’s cock spear him, to have it fill him to the brink. Klaus’s touch briefly vanished while he rummaged in the nightstand for the lubricant. A few seconds later, the cool trickle of lube slipped over Clay’s crack, making him tremble in anticipation. In the time he’d spent here, his body had already developed a Pavlovian reaction to the feel of the slick liquid, knowing what it foretold. Klaus rubbed the lube into his hole, the light teasing touch, sending shocks of pleasure through Clay. Slowly, the digit wormed its way inside Clay’s body. Clay pushed back against the invader, his desire for him urging him to speed things along. Klaus chuckled. “Patience, my love,” he murmured. “I’ll give you what you need.” A distant thought appeared in Clay’s mind, a doubt lurking at the edge of his consciousness. Was he really Klaus’s love? Clay shook himself and pushed the idea of way. He shouldn’t allow foolish fears to ruin this moment. His thoughts scrambled when Klaus’s exploring finger hit his prostate. As his mate rubbed the little nub mercilessly, electricity swept over Clay’s nerve endings, awakening each and every cell in his body. “Please, Klaus,” he cried out. “Please.” Klaus inserted another finger, then another, fucking Clay with them, playing him like a virtuoso would a musical instrument. His mate prepared Clay with excruciating determination, and he could do nothing but withstand the sensual assault. At last, Klaus retracted his fingers, and his cock nudged at Clay’s hole. One thrust, and his mate entered him. Clay couldn’t contain a gasp at the delicious burn that swept from his ass into his whole body.

 

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His mate was well-endowed to say the least, and every time they fucked, the sensations just seemed to get better and better. Klaus started a slow, unrushed rhythm, his thrust deep, hard, and measured. Clay clenched his fists into the bedding and pushed back against his mate. Every motion jostled the special spot inside him, sending renewed pleasure all over his body. Soon, Klaus began to speed up, and the slow seduction of his body turned carnal, raw, so intense Clay wondered how the sheets didn’t simply burst into flames. The heat between them felt so potent, stronger than even the fire of the sun. The sweet friction, the beautiful pain, all of it became too much. There was only more thing he needed to make the moment perfect. He ached to feel Klaus’s fangs sink into his flesh, to be claimed by his mate in the way of their people. He had the presence of mind to bare his throat and growl, “Bite me, Klaus. Bite me.” Klaus didn’t bite him. Instead, he reached for Clay’s cock, fucking him even harder. The staccato rhythm made the bed groan in protest. Clay could swear the wall actually cracked where the massive fourposter hit it. Of course, he couldn’t care about it. His body and his mind were completely focused on Klaus. “Go on, Clay,” Klaus growled in his ear. “Come for me.” The heat of Klaus’s cock in his ass and the skilled touch of his mate’s hand on his cock defeated any barrier Clay tried to put up. Against his will, Clay found his peak, the pleasure too intense for him to bear. With another thrust, Klaus filled him with hot seed, and the feel of his mate’s essence bathing his inside prolonged his bliss. But as the physical pleasure began to dwindle, Clay felt bereft and shocked. Klaus’s cock left him, and his mate abandoned the bed. Acute loneliness filled him. This was not the first time Klaus ignored his request to bond them together. He no longer knew what to think. Klaus returned to the bedroom, carrying a wet washcloth. He wiped Clay down, the gentle motions strangely out of place in the awkward silence between them.

 

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Clay couldn’t take it any longer. He snatched the cloth from Klaus and pushed his mate away. “Why?” he shouted.”Why didn’t you bite me?” Klaus looked away from him. “I just don’t think you’re ready.” Anger swelled inside Clay. “So I’m ready to be fucked, but not to be a mate. Tell me, Klaus, how exactly does that work?” His mate had promised. He’d promised during Wolfram’s mating ceremony that they could be together now. Of course, he never actually said he’d claim Clay, but how could he mean anything different? Clay assumed Klaus intended to mate him, but apparently, he’d been wrong. “Clay, my presence is still required here. The Magistrate needs me.” Clay bit his lip so hard he tasted blood. The Magistrate again. “Yeah, and? Can’t I just stay like I have these past days?” Klaus shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that. It’s too dangerous, and I’ll be distracted. No, you can’t stay.” Clay threw his hands up. “You’re talking in riddles. But at any rate, I’m willing to take the chance.” “I’m not,” Klaus shot back. The anger drained out of Clay, replaced by pure desolation. “Fine,” he said. “Have it your way. I’ve lived without a mate for ten years. I can do the same from now on.” Mustering the remnants of his shredded dignity, Clay hastily put on his clothes and left the room. That same day, he arranged for a helicopter to take him back to his parents’ compound. He didn’t even grace Klaus with a good-bye. At this point, he didn’t think his mate would care anyway. **** Ross stared at the doors in front of him in nervousness. His palms felt clammy with sweat, and he wiped them against the material of his

 

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pants. He knew it would be useless. His fear would show whether he liked it or not. It could have been a moment or an age, but at last, the door opened in front of him. He stepped inside the room like an automaton, knowing he didn’t have any choice. No matter what he did, his master always won in the end. At first, he didn’t see the other man. Even so, he knew Joseph was there. He could feel it in the chill coursing down his spine, in the way his skin crawled like a million bugs climbed over him. Even after all this time, he couldn’t get used to Joseph’s presence. He felt strangely thankful for it. The moment his mind and body accepted his master’s possession, he could very well say he’d died. A tall silhouette emerged from the shadows. “Come in, come in, Ross,” Joseph said. “I’m so glad you decided to visit.” Ross almost snorted. His master called him here in the first place. Ross hated these games, but he didn’t dare say anything. He never did. “It’s so nice to see you, Ross,” the man continued. “I have a very important mission for you.” “A mission?” Ross repeated, half-hopeful, half-terrified. It could mean getting away from his master, but at the same time, it could hurt others. His master nodded. “Yes. I’m in need of your talents for a delicate operation.” Ross’s heart fell. Sure, he’d expected it, but the way Joseph spoke didn’t bode well for Ross or whoever this mission targeted. In the past decade, Joseph had been training Ross’s mental abilities for his purposes. Much to his dismay, Ross learned his telepathic power could be boosted and harnessed by his master. He’d also been introduced to several horrifying facts of life—such as the existence of werewolves. He’d seen his master turn into a wolf with his own eyes, far too many times for his comfort. So far, he’d only trained his

 

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mental abilities on humans, but he had a feeling that would change soon. “I see you’re beginning to understand.” Joseph chuckled. “Yes, I plan to introduce you to more of my world. Come.” Joseph dragged Ross off and out of their house. They’d moved to Chicago the week prior, something that intrigued Ross at the time. Now, Ross wondered if maybe it had anything to do with this mission. His master drove them to what looked like a random alley in one of the poorer neighborhoods of the city. Occasionally, he’d sniff the air and snicker to himself, as if he were privy to some hidden knowledge Ross couldn’t grasp. He pushed Ross to the very end of the alley and said, “Right. This is a good spot.” “A good spot for what?” Ross asked, both confused and terrified. “You see, my boy, you’ll be my bait, the poor victim attacked by a beastly werewolf. Someone is going to come to save you, and when they do, you’ll destroy them.” Ross didn’t know which part horrified him the most. “Victim? Destroy? What?” He didn’t get to say anything else. A low blow sent him to his knees on the dirty ground. With dazed eyes, he took in the sight of Joseph undoing his pants and taking out his hard cock. As realization struck, he immediately regained focus. “No!” he shouted. “Don’t.” Joseph had never attempted to force himself on him before, at least not physically. He’d used and abused Ross’s mind plenty, but at least he’d kept his filthy paws off his body. Ross would die before he allowed that to change. Joseph glared at him. “Keep your voice down, or else.” He grabbed Ross by his hair, dragging him closer. The werewolf’s cock bobbed obscenely in front of Ross’s face. “Open your mouth. Suck me, and do it good, or else.” Ross tried to will his master to let him go, but it didn’t work. The man knew all his tricks. He knew how Ross’s mind worked. Already,

 

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Ross could feel Joseph work his way through the threads of his own mind, trying to control Ross, to push him into doing what he wanted. “I’ll bite it off if you force me,” Ross shot back. “I swear to God I will.” “You won’t,” Joseph answered. “You can’t resist me.” Ross huffed—something very inappropriate to do in his current position. “Are you willing to take the chance? Just try, and it will be the last thing you do with it.” Apparently, Joseph believed him because he released his grip on Ross’s hair and pushed him away with a sneer of disgust.”Fine. Have it your way.” From that moment, Ross’s world turned into pain and darkness. He found himself falling in the side of his brain reserved for moments such as these. His mind cocooned in itself, going into survival mode. Probably, if Joseph had now suggested a blow job in exchange for stopping the torture, Ross would have agreed. But Joseph didn’t. Instead, he beat him up until Ross thought he’d surely die. And then, Joseph pulled him up and sank his fangs in Ross’s shoulder. The agony multiplied by a thousand, and when Joseph released him, Ross collapsed on the alley tarmac. He only registered the following events with a distant part of his mind. He saw Joseph jack his cock, and the heat of his master’s cum splashed all over him, scorching his skin. Joseph grabbed him again and forced their eyes to meet. “You’ll tell them someone tried to force himself on you. You refused, and he bit you. Got it?” Ross whimpered and nodded. That wasn’t too hard to say. “When you recover, you’ll say you don’t remember who you are or anything else for that matter. Earn their trust, live by their side. When the time comes, I’ll tell you what to do.” Joseph disappeared, leaving Ross alone and in pain in the alley. A little while later, two men arrived. Ross didn’t recall what he said and did, but it must’ve been right because, just like Joseph wanted, they

 

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took him into their home. At one point, he completely lost consciousness, surrendering to the fever and the horror taking over his body. When he awoke, he found himself surrounded by strangers, fussing over him, soothing his hurts. But no matter what they did, they could not cast away the haunting voice in his mind. And then, there was one man, one man who Ross desired with all his heart, but whom he could not have.

 

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Chapter Two A few weeks later Dead gray eyes stared at Klaus accusingly. “You abandoned me, Klaus,” Clay’s corpse moaned. “You left me to die.” His body felt so familiar in Klaus’s arms, but so very cold. Klaus’s vision blurred as he struggled with his tears. “No, Clay. I only ever wanted the best for you.” Clay’s bloodless lips twisted into a smile that held no humor. “You keep telling yourself that. Maybe one day, you might come to believe it.” The dim light in Clay started to fade and there was nothing but silence left. Darkness surrounded Klaus, and slowly, Clay’s body dissipated into the gloom. Klaus tried to keep hold of his mate, but it was futile. His desperate attempts were met with failure, and he was left screaming into the lonely, dark void. Klaus shouted as he shot from the bed. For a few moments, he couldn’t even figure out where he was, but after a while, the haze began to dim and he returned to reality. Another nightmare. Fuck. Klaus buried his face in his palms, weary after so many nights of torturing dreams. Since Clay’s disappearance, he’d barely been able to sleep, and when he did succumb to exhaustion, nightmares came to him, stronger and more frightening than ever. Clay had run away from the Hart compound after releasing Ross, the prisoner guilty of destroying the clinic there and attacking Paul Blunt. Apparently, Ross had some sort of mind control abilities and

 

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convinced Clay the two of them were mates. Somehow, Clay had managed to pick the lock of Ross’s cell and flee before anyone could figure out they were missing. Beyond that, Klaus didn’t know much else. He’d made many mistakes in his life, but none quite like the one he’d committed against Clay. Twice his mate had come to him, and twice Klaus rebuffed him with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. But Klaus simply could not find another way at the time. He was caught between a rock and a hard place, torn between two loves and two duties. Ever since he’d been just a kid, Klaus had known he belonged by the Magistrate’s side. Sometimes, he would hear the voice of the Spirit Mother whisper in his dreams, telling him what to do. As of late, she’d been silent, but the nightmares became more and more intense. Ironically, it all began ten years back, upon meeting Clay. Now, almost every night, Klaus saw Wolfram dead or himself holding Clay’s lifeless body. Often, he sensed another presence there, lingering at the edge of his consciousness, fueling his terror. Each and every time, he woke up drenched in sweat, sobbing and just as helpless as when he’d gone to sleep. All the scouts they’d sent so far to look for Clay had come up with nothing. Who was this Ross? How did he manage to get such a strong hold on the young spirit wolf? Guilt swelled hot inside Klaus’s chest. He knew how. Klaus himself pushed Clay away, and Ross took advantage of Klaus’s stupidity and insinuated himself in Clay’s fragile, broken heart. But regrets were useless now. He needed a plan, something to help him find his mate. He knew Joseph must be behind Ross’s sudden appearance. Now, more than ever, destroying the feral turned into a priority. Joseph Garou—formerly known as Dupont—proved to be just as elusive as Clay. His attacks came and went with a speed and organization that belied his out-of-control nature. They’d tried to find

 

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him ever since he’d attempted to attack the Magistrate and his mates, but to no avail. Klaus felt horrified at the notion that they might have the same ill luck with Clay. The shrill sound of a phone ringing snapped him out of his musings. Klaus got up and picked up his cell. It felt odd and foreign in his hand, and Klaus’s stomach turned when he recalled all the times Clay had called in the weeks prior to his disappearance. Klaus ignored him, believing they needed the time apart to get things into perspective. He’d been such a fool, such a selfish fool. As he took the call, Klaus knew it must be another soldier with a report. Still, he couldn’t help but be just a bit excited. Perhaps one of these days, Clay might contact him. “Hello. Klaus Fleischer here.” The voice at the other side of the connection sounded hesitant. “Hi, Klaus,” Clay said. “It’s me. Are you alone?” Klaus couldn’t believe his ears. It was, indeed, his mate. For a moment, Clay’s question didn’t even register. “I’m alone,” he finally managed to reply. Klaus took a deep breath and focused on calming his racing heart. “Where are you, Clay? What’s going on?” “I’m fine,” Clay answered. “We’re fine. I just…” There was a brief pause at the other side of the connection as if Clay were considering his words. “What?” Klaus prodded. “What is it?” “Okay, so we’re not exactly fine. We need your help, Klaus.” Klaus didn’t like the sound of that. “By we I assume you mean yourself and this Ross person.” He knew he’d said the wrong thing the moment a deep sigh sounded from Clay. “Please, Klaus. Just don’t. Ross is sick, and you’re the only one who can save him.” Of course. Ross was feral. “How have you been controlling him all this time?” “My bite helps him, keeps it in check for a couple of hours, but it’s getting worse.” Clay’s voice trembled. “I beg of you, Klaus. There’s no one else we can turn to.”

 

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What could Klaus do? He agreed. **** The Irish pub bustled with activity, filled to the brim with intoxicated humans. The laughter of the customers seemed to mock Clay’s glum mood. He stole a look at his pale mate, taking in Ross’s sweaty forehead. Soon, Ross would fall into one of his fits again. Clay’s bite would no longer be enough to keep the virus at bay. Clay had known this would happen. He’d heard the stories and learned a lot about the disease simply from living in the same house with Andrew Blunt. It was amazing what one could find out when so few people paid him any heed. Oh, his parents loved him, and so did his siblings. But other than Amy, no one really knew him, or bothered to. They didn’t even try to understand the reasons behind his quiet nature. The only time his parents showed some involvement in his life was a few weeks back, when Clay returned with his tail between his legs from the Magistrate’s Den and found Ross there. At the time, they didn’t believe him when he’d claimed both Klaus and Ross were his mates. They’d become convinced he merely wanted the same thing his two brothers managed to achieve. Of course he did. Trent and Ash were always the ones in the spotlight, the brave hunters, while Clay remained the little, harmless kid. But his desire for Klaus and Ross didn’t have anything to with that. He could still remember his father’s words, his kindness which unwillingly hurt Clay so much. “You’re young still,” Grant had said. “You don’t need to make any hasty decisions.” In the end, only Amy trusted his instinct. She’d also been the one to help bust Ross out. She didn’t want to, but she’d helped him in the end. It hadn’t been easy, with the key to Ross’s cell taken by Ash. But Clay was very talented at picking locks, a hobby he’d taken up out of

 

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boredom, and perhaps spite, and Amy could distract guards better than any siren. Clay now doubted he’d done the right thing. At least at the Hart compound, Ross would have received adequate medical attention. In spite of Clay’s private hatred of the Magistrate, he admitted Wolfram also offered humane treatment to his prisoners. But something in Ross scared him, and the memory of the feral who’d killed himself niggled at his brain. Ross had just heard about it, whispered murmurs of the horrifying event, but he didn’t want to see it recreated in his mate. If only Klaus would help them. Should Klaus agree to bite Ross, everything would be all right. Clay hated to ask after what happened between them last time, and he might have refrained had Ross’s condition not grown progressively worse. As if in echo of Clay’s thoughts, Ross said, “I’m hot. Can we go outside?” His voice sounded weak, yet growly. Clay swallowed around the knot in his throat and stole a look at his watch. Klaus should have been here by now. What could have kept him? Easy. He must have decided not to bother with Clay’s requests. After all, he’d dodged each and every call from Clay a few weeks before. “Sure,” he replied. “We need some fresh air.” He waved the waitress to their table and paid the bill. The woman thanked him in a thick, Irish brogue, and Clay offered her a smile in turn. He took Ross’s sweaty hand and led him out. The soft, gentle breeze caressed his face as they left the stuffy pub. It didn’t seem to help Ross. “It’s just as hot here,” the young man said. “Damn it. I hate this awful place.” Kiltimagh was hardly an awful place. In fact, the tiny Irish town boasted a lot of beautiful historical attractions. Unfortunately, its small size meant they couldn’t stay here too long, or the hunters would track Ross’s scent. “Let’s go to our room,” Clay offered. He’d try to bite Ross again and hope for the best.

 

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Ross nodded but didn’t move. His eyes burned with the incipient touch of the feral madness, but for a second, they were as beautiful and clear as ever. “Hey, I never thanked you for taking me out of there. I think I’d have been dead by now if you hadn’t.” The words startled Clay. Ross spoke little, and when he did, he only referred to practical considerations, like “let’s take cover,” “when do we eat,” and so on and so forth. “Don’t say such things,” he told Ross. “You don’t ever need to thank me.” Ross laughed a little. “I don’t understand you. After everything I said and did, you still want to help me. Why?” It was a good question that didn’t have a simple answer. Everyone in the spirit wolf world always replied “you’re my mate.” But to Clay, it had never been so easy. Mate or no mate, Klaus abandoned him in favor of another man. So Clay surmised there must be more to it than that. Clay saw something inside Ross, a hidden sorrow his mate refused to share. Ross always claimed he couldn’t remember a thing from his past, but Clay had known it was a lie even before the fire at the compound. At the same time, he sensed gentleness beyond Ross’s mask of deception, sweetness and a genuine desire for affection. Clay didn’t know if he could give his mate all that, but he wanted to try. “Because I always follow my heart,” he replied, almost wincing at the corniness. Ross didn’t laugh but gave him a sad look. “You shouldn’t. It will get you hurt.” Clay wondered if he should tell Ross about his time at Klaus’s side. He’d refrained from doing so in the hope that, one day, Ross might meet Klaus and they could have the perfect bond Trent and Ash built with their own mates. A dream, and nothing more. One couldn’t force a person to love you. And besides, Ross himself didn’t seem to show any particular attraction to Clay. Beyond the gratitude and the occasional smile, Clay could have very well been traveling at a

 

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stranger’s side. He contented himself with the few kisses they’d shared at the compound and didn’t ask for more. Still, it was not the moment to burden Ross with his own frustrations. “Maybe,” he replied. “Come on. It’s late, and we should get some sleep.” “I guess your contact isn’t coming, huh?” Ross said with a sigh. “Oh, well. I suppose I should have—” A heavy groan interrupted Ross’s words. Clay would have panicked if at the same time he didn’t feel the overwhelming heat that marked the presence of his mate. So Klaus had come. Thank the Spirit Mother. Klaus’s large form emerged from the shadows, rushing toward them. “Hurry inside,” Klaus whispered as soon as he reached their side. “I might’ve been followed. I think I dodged my pursuers, but I can’t be sure.” For a few moments, Clay stared at the familiar features of Klaus’s face in disbelief. He realized he’d never actually expected Klaus would show up. Ross seemed just as gobsmacked, but then he let out a moan and swooned. Clay caught him just before he hit the ground and cursed as his mate started seizing. “Fucking hell. Help me.” They rushed to carry Ross to the small room Clay rented for them to stay in. As soon as they deposited Ross on the bed, Klaus retrieved a small bag disguised under his coat and took a syringe and some vials out of it. Clay frowned at his mate, insofar as he could while still holding Ross down. “What’s that?” “Some of Blunt’s serum,” Klaus replied as he filled a syringe with the liquid. “The doctors made another batch deposited at the Magistrate’s Den. I managed to steal a couple.” Clay was torn between relief and disappointment. Sure, he should have realized Klaus wouldn’t offer to claim Ross just like that. Clay himself didn’t mention it on the phone, for crying out loud. And after all, why wouldn’t Klaus’s persistent refusal to claim Clay extend over

 

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Ross? He should be happy Klaus risked his position at the Den to steal the valuable serum for them. “Okay,” he said simply. “Inject it.” Klaus found a vein on Ross’s arm, while Clay held the young man as still as possible. It wasn’t easy, and Clay earned a good measure of painful bites and scratches for his efforts. Even so, a few seconds after the serum entered Ross’s system, it began to take effect. Even if at first the convulsions increased, it lasted only a couple of seconds and then Ross’s breath and pulse began to become steadier. In a couple of minutes, Ross had regained a healthier color and look. The only sign of the seizure was the blood still lingering on his red, swollen lips. Clay breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d have done without your help.” Klaus gave him an unreadable look and glanced toward the gashes on Clay’s hands and chest. “Let me help you with those.” Clay allowed his mate to sanitize the wounds. They’d heal easily enough. It wasn’t the first time Ross injured him like this. He didn’t know if Ross remembered it, but Clay didn’t particularly mind them. He might not have Trent and Ash’s strength, but he could at least take some damage. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?” Klaus asked while he worked. Clay’s anger began to return, but he forced it down. “With the way we parted, I didn’t think it would be the best idea.” Klaus finished working on his wounds and then cupped Clay’s cheek. Their eyes met, and surprise coursed through Clay at the emotion he could read in his mate’s gaze. “I’m sorry,” Klaus whispered. “I assure you there’s a perfectly good reason for everything I did. I just chose the wrong way to go about it.” Clay wanted to cling to the olive branch Klaus offered, but his mate had apologized before and gone back on his words just days after. The emotional tension of the past few weeks burst out of him as he pushed away from Klaus. “I’ll say. Well, sorry doesn’t cut it, Klaus, not this time. For ten years, I waited for you. I waited while

 

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you tended to another, while you fucked him behind my back.” It might not have been true, but Klaus winced anyway, and it only fueled Clay’s anger. “And then, he has his mates. Excellent. You apologize and promise things will be different. But did you hold to that? No! You tell me it’s too dangerous to be by your side, and you weren’t willing to fight for us. Do you have any idea how I felt?” Used. Cheated. Thrown away like a useless rag. A willing hole for Klaus to fuck because the Magistrate wouldn’t spread his legs. So many things passed through Clay’s mind. He felt at the brink of insanity, and the only think that kept him from going feral now was Ross. If he lost it, too, who would care for Ross? Clay stole a look toward his young mate and realized his shouts must have roused Ross from his exhausted slumber. Ross gave them both a shocked look. Since Clay had bitten him, their bond was strong, and Ross could probably experience every volatile emotion Clay did. “What the fuck?” Ross said. Those words were the single warning they got before Ross pounced on Klaus. Punches flew as Ross attacked Klaus with relentless ferocity. “You fucking bastard,” he growled. “How could you do something like that? How could you betray him?” Thankfully, Klaus just blocked the hits without fighting back. Ross was in no condition for a real battle, and with Klaus’s skill and experience, Ross wouldn’t have a chance anyway. Klaus allowed Ross to vent, until at last, in one single motion, he pushed Ross down and immobilized him against the floor. “Hush,” he said. “The humans will hear you. We’ll get caught.” The argument seemed to convince Ross, who stopped trying to scratch at Klaus. They broke away, with Ross still glaring daggers at Klaus. Clay knelt next to his young mate. “It’s okay, Ross. It doesn’t matter. Everyone has a choice, and I’ve accepted Klaus’s.”

 

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For a few moments, Ross didn’t reply. Then, he threw his arms around Clay’s neck and murmured, “I’m so sorry, Clay. I shouldn’t have said what I did back at the compound. I promise I won’t betray you, not again.” For the first time, Clay felt emotion burst through their connection. In all their time together, he’d never been able to figure out Ross’s feelings for him. It always seemed like a thick veil lay between them, polluting their bond, keeping them from being together. The words Ross uttered the day he’d set fire on the Hart base always weighed heavily on Clay’s mind. “Surely you realize it was all a lie,” Ross said back then.”You wanted a mate of your own so badly you fell for it.” No, sorry didn’t cut it, but Ross’s anger for the hurt Klaus caused did. And now, Clay understood. He’d have refused Ross’s offer had he thought it came from pity, but his mate’s emotions were too complex to define. It was a cocktail full of paradoxes, love, hate, self-loathing, disdain, fear, desire, longing, and so much more. Clay yearned to find the source of each and every one of those emotions, but for the moment, he contented himself with this simple embrace. It meant more to him than any of Klaus’s false promises, kisses, or lies. **** Klaus stood in the center of the small room, watching his two mates embrace. They seemed to fit together, Ross’s red hair almost entwining with Clay’s black one. Klaus had known from the very moment he’d stepped in the small Irish town the human was also his mate. It just complicated things further and made renewed fear course through him. His men told him Ross held some mysterious mind-control abilities. Had they seeped into Klaus’s dreams, or had Klaus accidentally affected him? A flash of a dark void swept through his

 

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mind’s eye. This time, he could see both Ross and Clay staring at him with dead, accusing eyes. He choked, trying to reach out to them, but they didn’t hear. They embraced each other, and under Klaus’s very eyes began to disintegrate, their flesh tearing apart, their bones turning to dust, until nothing remained but ash. An odd force pulled him out of his daymare, and Klaus found himself staring into Clay’s concerned eyes. “Klaus, are you okay?” the young spirit wolf asked. Klaus blinked away the slight dizziness and noticed a curious Ross peek over Clay’s shoulder at him. “I think we should talk,” he said, “but seriously this time. All cards on the table.” Clay looked doubtful, but Klaus detected a flash of hope in his eyes before it was carefully hidden. “I’m an open book,” he said. Klaus looked at Ross, who nodded. “It sounds fair to me.” His mates’ agreement made Klaus feel a bit better. He got up and considered his words. “I’ll go first. You two hate me, and you have every reason to do so, especially Clay.” “I don’t hate you,” Clay said in a barely audible whisper. No, he didn’t. Clay was incapable of hate. His gentle soul held so much affection Klaus didn’t consider himself deserving of it. At the same time, Klaus knew whatever love Clay felt for him was quickly dying, killed by his own brutality. “I won’t bore you with long tales,” he began.”The gist of it is this. I’ve always had dreams, dreams that often foretold the future. Most of the time, they’re useless, too erratic to make sense of. With some, I can’t even tell if they’re true visions or simply the manifestation of my own fears. But there has been one vision in my life that came to me as clear as day.” As he spoke, Klaus remembered it, the image that haunted him for so long. He’d first seen it the day before his official introduction to the pack. Back then, he hadn’t even known Wolfram. But the moment he’d seen the Magistrate, he’d known the horrifying images would

 

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one day come to pass. It was his role to stand as Wolfram’s shield and prevent their nation from crumbling down. “I admit Wolfram is very dear to me. And yes, we used to have a sexual relationship before I ever met Clay. He is an attractive man, after all, and we are extremely close.” He paused, unsure how to explain the rest. He trusted his mates implicitly, but there were some secrets that didn’t belong to him. For all spirit wolves, Wolfram didn’t have any weaknesses. Only Klaus knew of his night terrors. Only Klaus had been there when Wolfram screamed the names of his fallen people. To speak of it would be a betrayal. Klaus sighed and rubbed his eyes. Yet again, he was in front of a choice. Every time, he’d dedicated himself to duty, swearing that one day, when it would be safe, he’d make it up to Clay. But the years passed in an eternal wait, and before he knew it, Klaus had been completely engulfed by his fears. His connection to Clay grew more and more tenuous. Could Ross heal that? Taking a deep breath, he began to speak again. “Some things are very difficult for Wolfram to shoulder alone. He is a very strong man, but the weight of a nation is hard to carry. I wanted to be by his side, to help him. But then you showed up, Clay, and my world changed. I was so torn. I didn’t know what to do. I’d have chosen you, but around that time, my visions got worse. I began to see you in them as well, and I feared for your life.” Klaus paused, allowing his mates to take in the information. “And this happened ten years ago?” Ross asked. Klaus nodded silently. Ross looked away from them, rubbing his arms as if he felt cold. “Ten years ago, Joseph found me,” he murmured. So Klaus had been right. Their abilities were somehow connected. The practicalities of it lost their importance though, when faced with the obvious pain gracing Ross’s delicate features. What tortures had Joseph subjected Ross to?

 

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Something inside Klaus urged him to comfort Ross, but he didn’t think any such initiative would be welcome. Ross plopped back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I interrupted you. Go on.” It was a clear diversionary tactic, but Klaus let it go. He opened his mouth to finish his explanation, but he didn’t get the chance. The feel of his approaching enemies invaded his senses. Instantly, both his mates became alarmed as well. “What’s going on?” Ross asked. “The hunters,” Clay replied. “We need to get out of here.” Klaus was already mapping a way out for them. They grabbed the meager belongings of the fugitives and the precious serum that might have saved Ross’s life. Together, they left the small room and headed out to the fire escape. Behind them, he sensed their pursuers trying to scan the area, but thankfully, he held the advantage of superior spiritual abilities. He should have no trouble in wiping their traces. Indeed, they managed to lose the hunters with relative ease, but the close call put things into perspective. “I have to go back,” he told his mates. “There’s a manhunt on for you two, and I’m more useful there.” “We should establish a time and place where we can meet again,” Ross suggested. The offer surprised Klaus, but he recovered quickly. He didn’t fool himself. There were high possibilities he might get caught. For that reason, they couldn’t risk setting a clear date. “Call me in three days. We should find a more definite solution by then.” On impulse, he hugged them both. “Take care, all right?” “You, too,” Clay answered. “We still have a conversation to finish.” “Perhaps you shouldn’t return to them,” Ross mumbled. “I just have a bad feeling, and I can’t shake it.”

 

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Klaus forced himself to break the embrace. “There’s no other way. Now run. “ As his two mates disappeared into the night, Klaus considered his next move. It wouldn’t be easy, but no matter what, he needed to help his mates. The trip back to the Magistrate’s Den lasted far too long for his comfort, but not because Klaus particularly wanted to go there. In fact, for the first time ever, Klaus no longer felt like returning to the Den. For so long, it had been his home, but now he dreaded the very sight of it. Still, no one commented upon his arrival. No one even blinked at him having been gone or asked any uncomfortable questions. All of them were used to him taking up various missions or private requests for the Magistrate. Either way, no one considered him capable of ever straying from the so-called righteous path, from being the Magistrate’s ever-faithful watchdog. But then again, he didn’t fear the lower tiers. No, they couldn’t do anything. Wolfram, however, was a whole different story. Wolfram saw behind every lie, and his powers had only grown since his mating with Dietrich and Fritz. He headed straight to his room, intending to take a shower, change, and then report to Wolfram. His official explanation would be that he’d gone to blow off some steam. He hoped it would be plausible enough because Klaus didn’t have any other ideas. As for the unofficial one… Well, he intended to come clean, of course. It was Wolfram’s help he wanted. He’d have gone with his mates had he not been more convinced than ever that soon, Joseph would show up. As such, they needed to work together if they were going to defeat the feral. He only hoped Wolfram would hear his plea. To his surprise, when he reached his quarters, he found Wolfram sitting on his couch. The Magistrate held a frame in his hand, one Klaus knew housed a photo of himself and Wolfram, at the turn of the

 

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millennium. Klaus had been among the ones foretelling something horrible would happen when the one changed to two, most of all because of his intensifying nightmares. They’d taken the photo to remind them of the hope the future could bring. Shortly after, he’d met his mate and that hope had begun to diminish. “I let myself in when I heard you arrived,” Wolfram said. “I trust you don’t mind.” Klaus joined Wolfram on the couch. “Not at all, My Lord,” he replied. “Is something amiss?” Wolfram put the frame back on the coffee table and turned toward him. “You tell me, Klaus.” He didn’t say anything else, nor did he sound accusing in any way. This was not Wolfram Rozenstadt, Magistrate over all spirit wolves, but Wolfram, Klaus’s friend. The words came easily. “I went to meet my mate, or rather my mates.” “In Ireland,” Wolfram completed his sentence. “With Andrew Blunt’s serum.” When Klaus nodded, Wolfram sighed. “You know you should be arrested right now. I’m sure you helped them get away. They couldn’t have eluded the hunters otherwise.” “If you do imprison me, I will ask you to hear me out first. Ross is a victim in all of this.” Wolfram arched a brow at him. “How so?” Klaus opened his mouth to explain, but he realized Ross never actually got to explain. “He was forced into it by Joseph,” he said. “I thought we already suspected that,” Wolfram shot back. “Anything else?” “We didn’t have much time before the hunters interrupted us,” Klaus explained. “But my gut and my heart tell me more than enough.” Wolfram’s gaze could have pierced diamonds. “How do I know your good judgment isn’t affected by whatever power Ross has?” “I suppose you just have to trust me.”

 

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It was a gamble, something Klaus never attempted with his friend. He hoped Wolfram would appreciate it and understand his point. “Very well, Klaus. I can accept that. I’ll hear them out, but I don’t guarantee the result. Ross caused a lot of damage at the Hart compound. He almost killed Paul. So it doesn’t only depend on me.” Wolfram got up, now in Magistrate mode. “I’ve never been accused of nepotism, Klaus. I trust I’m not taking the chance for nothing.” Klaus bowed his head, half to convey his respect, half to hide his eyes from Wolfram’s. “Thank you, My Lord. You will not regret it.” Wolfram headed toward the door. He stopped just as he put his hand on the knob. “Tell me this, Klaus. If Clay is your mate, why did you stay by my side all this time?” It was the question Klaus had been dreading. As much as he wanted to convey his fear and distress, he doubted anyone would ever grasp it. He didn’t even know if his mates believed him. “I stayed because I understand,” he said. Wolfram didn’t ask anything else. He left the room without another word. Klaus stared at the door for the longest time, wondering what his Magistrate would do.

 

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Chapter Three A few days later Ross’s mind whirled. The night in Ireland had done a lot to put things into perspective. He’d always sensed the pain hidden inside Clay, a pain he himself stirred, but didn’t realize the root cause until now. Beyond the obvious chemistry between Klaus and Clay, the man represented an enigma. Oddly, Ross believed his explanation, but at the same time, he remained concerned. He couldn’t understand Klaus’s insistence to return to the Magistrate’s side, and it frustrated him. How could Klaus just leave them to their own devices and run back like a loyal puppy to Wolfram’s side? Ross had never met Wolfram, but so far, he didn’t have a very good impression of the man. He sounded selfish and self-centered. Ross might not have an excellent history with the spirit wolves, but at least he hadn’t stolen a man away from his mate. Still, he supposed he should be thankful they’d avoided capture so far. They’d left Ireland posthaste and found refuge in a small village in France. No one paid any heed to them, since tourists were apparently quite common. Now, the day of their established contact with Klaus had come. Ross threw a look toward Clay. “Well? Aren’t we going to call?” Clay didn’t answer. He just stared outside the window with an absent expression. Ross crossed the room and reached out for the young spirit wolf. “Clay, come on.” Ross wrapped an arm around Clay’s shoulders. “Talk to me. What’s the matter?”

 

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He could feel the anxiety coursing through his mate, but didn’t have the courage to fully reach out. “It’s just that… No matter what we do, the Magistrate is always going to be more important to Klaus. Even if one day, everything turns out the way we want it to, I don’t think I’ll be able to forgive him.” Ross could understand Clay’s pain, but chose to play devil’s advocate. “Why not? You forgave me.” Clay sighed. “It’s not the same. I don’t blame you for what happened at the compound. That was all Joseph. But Klaus… He does what he wants to. No one forced his hand to leave me and humiliate me like he did.” Ross didn’t manage to find anything to say to that. He just turned Clay and pressed his lips to the other man’s. Their bodies fit perfectly against each other, with Clay’s just a little more muscular than his. Beautiful and delicious, just like Ross remembered it. At first, Clay seemed surprised, but then, he took charge of the kiss. Ross melted against his mate, allowing Clay to devour him. He didn’t know much about kissing. Clay was the only person he’d ever kissed, other than a few chaste pecks during his time with his adoptive families. But for once, Ross didn’t feel bad about his inexperience. He knew anything would fall short in front of Clay’s passion. Clay’s tongue invaded Ross’s mouth, massaging, tasting, taking no prisoners. Ross pushed closer to his mate, rubbing against the other man. He could feel Clay’s erection against his thigh, and he found himself yearning to touch it, to taste it. As their kiss broke, Ross licked across Clay’s jaw and sucked on his mate’s Adam’s apple. He smiled to himself when Clay groaned out his name. Apparently, he’d found a sensitive spot. Taking advantage of his mate’s distraction, Ross pushed Clay against the wall. Before he could change his mind or chicken out, he knelt at the spirit wolf’s feet. The new position changed their dynamic tremendously. As he struggled to work his mate’s pants open, Ross experienced a

 

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flashback of panic. Joseph had asked him to do this exact same thing. True, Ross refused, but he’d earned himself a horrible beating and near-death for his disobedience. Clay’s gentle hands pet his hair. “Hey, it’s okay,” his mate said in a gentle voice. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.” Ross looked up at the other man and the moment seemed to go on forever. Ross’s fear lingered at the forefront of his mind, haunting him. At his every step, Joseph was there, threatening to slip back into his mind if he didn’t pay attention. Even now, Ross felt the damn feral trying to make use of the occasion. But Ross refused to accept Joseph’s control. He’d hurt so many because Joseph told him to. He’d destroyed the serum that could help the ferals remove their insanity. Never again. Never again would Ross allow Joseph to takeover. Ross clung to the desire and affection he saw in Clay’s gaze and steadied himself. Once he steeled his resolve, he found it strangely easy to lower Clay’s zipper with his teeth. His mate’s cock sprung up, already leaking a copious amount of pre-cum. Any doubt Ross might have kept dissipated, replaced by sheer lust and sensual curiosity. He pressed his tongue to the tip, taking in his mate’s taste. He had no idea what to do, so he just went with it, licking Clay like he would a lollipop, occasionally sucking on the purplish head. On impulse, he reached down and massaged Clay’s balls with his hand. He must have been doing something right because their connection flooded with Clay’s pleasure. It took Ross by surprise, and he moaned around Clay’s dick. In echo, Clay groaned, his head thumping against the wall. Ross could feel his mate’s desire to thrust increasing more and more. At first, Clay kept hold of his control, obviously remembering Ross’s original reluctance. But Ross didn’t allow his mate to back down. Through their connection, he tried to convey the fact it was all right and he could take it. In the end, Clay let go and began plunging

 

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his cock in Ross’s mouth in earnest. Ross lost his rhythm and focused on holding on, letting his mate do whatever he wanted with him. Clay fucked his mouth, his hands yanking on Ross’s hair, pulling him closer. Ross did his best to breathe through his nose and take Clay as deep as he could. He could smell the manly scent of Clay’s bush, oh so close. His arousal increased more and more. By some miracle, he managed to muster enough coherence of mind to unzip his own trousers. In a peculiar development, Ross found his mind drifting, imagining a different man there, with them. He could almost feel Klaus’s presence, joining them in a dream-like state. He couldn’t have explained it if he tried, but neither did he care. As Clay fucked his mouth, Ross allowed himself to enjoy the moment, the feel of Clay’s cock on his tongue, the pleasure flowing through their connection and the urgent need he sensed from Klaus. A part of him reached out to the other man, crossing over distance of emotion and space. At first, he resisted the temptation to touch himself, knowing it wouldn’t take much to bring him over. But soon, the desire became too intense, and he reached down, jacking his own dick in fierce strokes. A few moments later, Clay buried his cock deep in Ross’s mouth, sending hot seed down his throat in an explosive orgasm. Faced with his mate’s pleasure, Ross couldn’t hold on. His climax swept out of him, making every nerve ending in his body alive with ecstasy. Ross would have liked to cling to the moment forever, but alas, the haze began to dwindle all too soon. He collapsed on the floor, dazed. Clay knelt by his side, and they shared a brief, delicious kiss. “That was amazing,” Clay whispered when they broke apart. “Thank you.” Ross could still sense the pain inside Clay, but it became a bit more soothed. “I think maybe, in time, I might be able to forgive

 

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him,” Clay said. “I tried to ignore the past once. It never would have worked, even if Klaus hadn’t pushed me away.” “It’s not your fault,” Ross answered. That much, he knew. In all this mess, just Clay remained a victim. Both Klaus and Ross hurt him. For his part, Ross knew he didn’t have any right to judge Klaus. He slowly realized it and understood it more and more. But he needed to try to make it up to Clay. To do that, the three of them would have to work together. For the moment, they had a call to make. They’d already delayed it long enough, in fear of what would happen, what Klaus would say. Ross and Clay got up at the same time. In swift motions, they cleaned up a bit, packed their bags, and left the room. Keeping an apparently unhurried pace to avoid drawing attention, they headed toward the pay phone outside the little bed-and-breakfast they’d chosen as a temporarily hideout. They’d chosen this method of communication because all others could be tracked. Since they intended to leave the bed-and-breakfast after this, they should be all right. Clay retrieved the phone card, inserted it in the slot, and dialed Klaus’s number. Ross held his breath as he waited. Klaus picked up on the first ring. “Hi,” he said, sounding a bit breathless. “How are you doing?” Ross surmised Klaus must have experienced at least a glimpse of their sexual episode earlier. He imagined the man getting aroused over Ross’s blow job, but quickly pushed away the thought. Now was not the time for such things. They needed to focus on the practical first, such as how to get rid of the virus in Ross’s system and explain the situation to the spirit wolf Magistrate. “We’re okay,” Clay replied. “Any news?” “I talked to Wolfram,” Klaus said after a brief moment of hesitation. Immediately, Clay tensed, and so did Ross. Any contact Klaus had with the Magistrate increased the abyss gaping between Ross’s mates.

 

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“All right,” Clay said neutrally. “What did he say?” “He’s willing to hear you out, but you’d have to come back.” Ross shared a look with Clay, his feeling of uneasiness increasing within him. What if he did return to the States and Wolfram decided he was guilty? Sure enough, Ross more than deserved any punishment Wolfram would think of, but he didn’t want to be separated from Clay. His mate needed him. And then there was Joseph. Ross couldn’t be certain, but he believed the feral must be in America. The distance between them made Joseph’s hold of him dwindle, even in the moments when the virus took hold. So far, Ross managed to keep his fear in check and avoid any panic attack, but he didn’t know what would happen should he see Joseph again. More than anything, Ross hated to be weak. He hated the way Joseph made him feel torn, helpless. Joseph knew exactly how to attack him, how to tear into Ross’s mind and turn him into a broken man, a mere puppet. Ross knew his instability would return if they went back. Clay must’ve sensed his anxiety. “Can’t we meet someplace else?” he asked into the phone. “It would be safer.” At the other side of the connection, Klaus sighed. “I’ll try to see what I can do, but I can’t promise anything. Wolfram is in some trouble now and—” Before Klaus could finish the phrase, Clay interrupted him, “Tell you what. Why don’t you stay with your precious Magistrate? Thanks for bringing me the serum for Ross. I consider our accounts clear.” “Clay, wait,” Klaus tried to protest. “I didn’t mean—” The anger on Clay’s beautiful face drained, turning into pure emotional exhaustion. “It’s okay. Ross and I will manage on our own. You have your road, and we have ours. I see that now. Good-bye.” Without further ado, Clay ended the call. He put the receiver back and retrieved his phone card. “We should get out of here,” he told Ross. “They probably know where we called from by now.”

 

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Ross nodded. They silently returned to their room and grabbed their meager belongings. After paying the owner, they left the little bed-and-breakfast and headed out into the unknown. **** Klaus stared at the phone in his hand in disbelief. Just a few moments ago, he’d sensed his tenuous connection with his mates overflowing with sexual energy. That had given him hope, at the same time making him dread the moment of the call. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Clay would not forgive him so easily. Klaus had hoped Clay would be open to suggestions, and that might’ve been the case, if Klaus hadn’t fucked up yet again. Wolfram leaned against the desk and stared at him, deep in thought. “He doesn’t like me much, does he?” He sounded troubled, and Klaus cursed himself for not finding a better solution. At this point, the situation in the Den had become increasingly strained, with Wolfram’s mates also showing a jealous streak. Dietrich must have suspected the previous liaison between the Magistrate and Klaus because he didn’t seem terribly surprised. At the same time, however, the man’s temper pushed away whatever reasoning led him to accept Klaus in the first place. Fritz had been drawn into it, and now, Wolfram was officially banished from the quarters he shared with his mates. Klaus had intended to explain all this to Clay, but his mate never gave him the chance. Klaus rubbed his forehead, a heavy migraine already pounding at his skull. “Now what?” The door of the room opened, revealing Dietrich and Fritz in the hallway. “I suppose it’s up to us to find them,” Fritz said. “Besides,” Dietrich added, “I have a few tricks up my sleeve and know some people who might be able to help us.” Klaus must have looked confused because Dietrich clarified, “Witches. Some of us can scry and are quite talented at locating people or objects.”

 

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Klaus distantly recalled Dietrich’s mother had been a witch. The suggestion gave him renewed hope before a thought occurred to him. “Why aren’t we trying to find Joseph the same way?” he inquired. “I did try,” Dietrich replied, “but there needs to be a connection, some sort of thread for the magic to follow. My blood bond with Joseph has all but disappeared. The virus must be polluting him to such an extent that it blocks every family link I might’ve kept with him.” He gave Klaus a look full of meaning. “It will be the same for you. If your connection with the two of them is strong enough, we might be able to find them.” Klaus didn’t put much trust into that. Their bond was already straining under the weight of their own emotion. To add the intervention of magic into it would be sheer folly. It occurred to him someone else could help them. “There is another way,” he said. “Amy.” Amy Hart was very close to her brother. The connection between the two siblings rivaled even a mate bond. “Would it work?” Dietrich considered the question and shook his head. “It might, but Amy has proven difficult to work with.” So they’d already tried this with Amy and failed. Great. Just great. “It seems to me they don’t want be found,” Fritz added unhelpfully. As much as he wanted to be angry with them, Klaus knew they were right. “The fault lies with me,” he answered, “but the longer they’re out there alone, the more the danger increases. Joseph may be lying low now, but I think he will go after them.” Dietrich stared at him for a few moments in silence. “Well then,” he finally said, “I suppose the ball’s in your court. Do you think you care about them enough?” Klaus didn’t even hesitate. “Let’s do this.”

 

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Chapter Four The next day, Klaus, Wolfram, and the Magistrate’s mates arrived in London. The thick fog made the landing of the private jet difficult, but eventually, they made it to their destination safe and sound. Klaus was curious about this famous witch they needed to see. His idea of wise women created the picture of some old hag living in the middle of nowhere, not in one of the most famous cities of the world. Dietrich’s friend went by the motto “hiding in plain sight.” The man—because their helper turned out to be male—owned a nightclub called The Witching Hour. Apparently, people with more unusual interests crowded here, both gay and heterosexual, making quite a statement in London’s Goth scene. The witch himself, a man named Hewitt, welcomed them warmly. He was a tall, drop-dead gorgeous brunet. Klaus tried but failed to guess his age. Hewitt looked in his early thirties, but talented witches could prolong their lifespan for many centuries. Hewitt gestured them into the nightclub, closed during the day, and offered them delicious cocktails, on the house. Dietrich seemed well-known and well-liked here. “Thanks,” Dietrich said, “but we were wondering if we could proceed with what we spoke of before.” “You’re trying to find the young man again.” Hewitt hummed thoughtfully. “I suspected as much. I can’t promise it will work this time.” He turned toward Klaus. “Tell me, do you want to find your elusive Clay? It won’t work otherwise.” Klaus nodded. He couldn’t figure out what words to use to convey his need to be by his mates’ sides. An increasingly ominous feeling

 

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shrouded his heart and mind. Ross and Clay were in danger. He just knew it. Why did things have to be so difficult? He’d meant well when he’d left, but Clay and Ross didn’t see it that way. He now relied on Hewitt to help them find the two before it was too late. The witch led them to a door with a sign that read “Employees Only.” Beyond, they entered something that looked like a common club storeroom. Klaus noticed boxes leaden with bottles, all holding various types of liquors. Hewitt expertly slipped between the boxes and swept his hand over the wall, murmuring an incantation under his breath. The bricks parted, revealing a secret entrance. Hewitt led them through a small, dark tunnel into a huge, cavernous space. The top of the room seemed to go on for miles, although it could have been just a visual effect because of the detailed frescos. The domed ceiling depicted the starry night sky in the north side and a sunny day in the south. “Different witches use different types of magic,” Hewitt explained. “Mine is the magic of the aether, stemming from a combination of sunlight and moonlight. It’s what helps me locate lost people and lost objects.” Klaus surmised Dietrich’s magic must be different but didn’t bother to ask. He was too focused on getting the proverbial show on the road. “So, what do I have to do?” Hewitt chuckled. “In a rush, are we?” He gestured for Klaus to sit on a wooden chair in front of a simple table. “Just sit there. I’ll tell you what’s needed.” Klaus obeyed and waited as the witch took a scroll from a huge bookshelf. He rolled it on the table in front of them, revealing that it was, in fact, an old-fashioned map. Its edges were yellowed with age and some of the lines could no longer be made out. Klaus arched a brow, but didn’t comment.

 

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Hewitt then said another incantation, sweeping his hand over the map as he did so. He sat at the table on a chair opposite Klaus’s. “Ready?” he asked Klaus. Klaus nodded. Hewitt smiled, his eyes warm and comforting. He retrieved a small pendant from his pocket, letting it slide over the map. The witch reached out for Klaus’s hand and held it tightly, bringing it over the pendant. “Where did you last see the young man?” Hewitt asked. “Kiltimagh, in Ireland.” Hewitt nodded and shifted the position of the pendant over Ireland. “Now think about the man you're looking for,” Hewitt whispered. “Think hard.” Klaus imagined his two mates, Clay with his warm smile and generous soul, Ross with his hidden passion and righteous anger. He clung to the pain he’d experienced through them—a pain he himself had caused. In the background, Hewitt encouraged him. “That’s it. Go deeper. Further.” The pendant began to shine and hover lightly against the map, as if tracking an unseen motion. It went from its current place traveling toward the main continent, its motions a bit erratic, as if it couldn’t decide where to stop. Hewitt grimaced. “Your Clay is on the move. And there’s something else, a dark force blocking my magic. Focus. Think of a special moment you two shared.” First, Klaus relived the moment when he’d first met Clay. He recalled the young spirit wolf kneeling in front of the Magistrate, then his wide eyes meeting Klaus’s, a shy smile on his lips. But Klaus had looked away, refusing his mate. It had been such a troubling time, plagued with fears, with the need to be by his mate’s side, overwhelmed by the desire to keep Clay safe. The pendant continued its erratic motions, and Klaus chose the first time he and Clay had sex. He could almost see it now, Clay’s

 

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body moving with his, his tight channel squeezing Klaus’s cock in an iron-like vise. But the erotic experience had been shrouded by his increasing doubts, and he’d refrained from claiming Clay, ultimately leading to their separation. It didn’t surprise him when the pendant refused to fix on one spot. He chose the moment he’d first met Ross. It didn’t help at all, the anxiety of seeing his mate turn feral, making the pendant sway wildly. “Whatever you’re doing, it’s not helping,” Hewitt said. Out of options and acutely aware of how little he deserved his mates, Klaus recalled the hug between Ross and Clay. He might have been left out, but even so, the emotions he’d experienced, albeit indirectly, somehow connected him to his mates. At last, the pendant ceased its erratic swishing and fixed in one spot. Paris, France. Not the easiest city to find a feral in, but at least they had a general location. As if guessing Klaus’s thoughts, Hewitt rolled the map and handed it to Klaus, together with the still-shining pendant. “This will guide you on your way. It works like a GPS of sorts now.” Klaus got up, renewed decisiveness coursing through him. “Thank you,” he told Hewitt. Hewitt nodded in acknowledgement of his words, and then his eyes turned to Dietrich. “Anything for a friend.” Judging by Hewitt’s tone, Dietrich had been much more than a friend. Wolfram growled lowly, and Dietrich nudged his wolf mate with his elbow. “And we really appreciate the help. Don’t we, Wolfram?” Wolfram smiled tightly. “Of course.” It was disconcerting to see Wolfram jealous, but Klaus didn’t dwell too much on it. The strong feeling of unsettlement returned with a vengeance. Wolfram must have sensed his urgency—well, that, and he probably wanted to get Dietrich out of Hewitt’s proximity. “We’ll be off now. Our thanks again.”

 

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“Certainly, Magistrate. Drop by any time. And do let me know how your search goes.” Hewitt led them to the exit of the club and waved as they rushed off. Klaus prayed for the witch’s well-being. Ferals seemed to be everywhere these days, and he hoped Hewitt’s aid would not draw unwanted attention. But the witch’s welfare became a side thought, and by the time they reached the airport once again, Hewitt turned into a very distant memory. The dark feeling had returned, growing more and more, choking him. Klaus knew they were running out of time. **** Whatever relief Ross felt while in Ireland disappeared after their arrival on mainland Europe. Their separation from Klaus burdened him a lot. It seemed very strange, since he hardly knew the man, but for some reason, a spiritual connected existed between them, one that made it hard for him to ignore Klaus’s dejection and self-loathing. Clay’s disappointment and heartbreak overflowed through their bond. A niggling thought told him his anxiety also stemmed from something else, but Ross pushed it aside. Clay had suggested for them to go to Paris, arguing they would be harder to find in a large city. They didn’t know where to go from there, although it remained clear they couldn’t stay in one place at the same time. Even if the Parisian crowd offered a pretty good cover, it wouldn’t hold them for long. One day after their arrival in Paris, he and Clay decided to take breakfast out. Clay seemed in a slightly better mood. “I’m not going to mourn my bond with Klaus forever,” he said. “We’re in the city of love. Let’s enjoy it.” They left their hotel room and chose a tiny café where they ordered hot drinks and croissants. It felt strangely normal and romantic to just enjoy a morning with a special person over a bite of

 

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delicious breakfast. When he looked into Clay’s eyes over the café table, Ross almost forgot about his misgivings, and he could actually believe things would turn out all right. Afterward, they went for a walk, taking in the beauty of the sights, the enticing scents coming from the various shops and the dazzling shine of the river. No one gave them a single ugly look when Clay took his hand, entwining their fingers together. But as they headed back to the hotel, Ross sensed it again, the encroaching feeling of doom. He wanted to tell Clay to just make a run for it, leave the hotel and Paris altogether, but he didn’t get the chance. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing his flesh hard. His attacker forcibly turned him around, and someone else did the same to Clay. Before he could even try to fight back, Ross found himself facing his nemesis, Joseph. “Well, well, well.” Joseph chuckled. “Look what we have here. Two errant pups away from their masters.” Ross’s blood froze in his veins. His survival instinct told him to flee, every drop of self-confidence he’d gained in his time with Clay gone in one single moment. But he could not move. His muscles refused to obey him. Just looking into Joseph’s black eyes sent him spiraling into a world full of dark memories. Their last meeting flashed through his mind’s eye, and it felt as if he could experience each and every blow all over again. How could this be? Ross had thought—or rather, hoped—he’d feel Joseph’s presence if the man ever found them. Then again, he must’ve felt and dismissed it like an idiot. He deserved whatever happened to him now. It was only Clay’s presence that gave him the strength to remain anchored to the present. He gritted his teeth and struggled to free himself from Joseph’s hold. “Get the fuck away from me.”

 

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Joseph arched a brow at him in something akin to surprised amusement. “It seems the pup is teething. Not to worry. We know how to deal with that, don’t we, boys?” Ross realized they were surrounded. He’d actually seen some of the ferals before, back when he’d lived with Joseph. Some observed him with stoic expressions, their faces blank, void of all emotion. Others looked satisfied with his predicament. A couple seemed almost sorry for him, but didn’t show it beyond brief flashes of regret in their eyes. It didn’t matter what the ferals thought of the situations, anyway. They would never go against Joseph to help him. They never did during his childhood and teenage years. They had no reason to do so now. Clay bared his teeth at Joseph. He stepped in front of Ross, shielding Ross’s body with his own. “You heard him,” he said. “Just back off and leave us be.” This time, Joseph actually laughed. “Or you’ll do what, little boy? Cry me away?” His expression turned into one of visible disgust. “Please… You’re no hunter, Clay Hart, and even if you were, you wouldn’t stand a chance. Now come quietly, before we force you to.” “The hell we will,” Clay replied. Joseph was right. They didn’t stand a chance. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t fight. Ross focused his powers on the ferals around him. He willed them to back away, delved into their deepest, darkest fears. Without the boost of Joseph’s powers, he could not control them, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have skills of his own. Clay’s love and trust strengthened him. For once, he would not cower and hide. He would fight back. The ferals took a few steps back as Ross’s power swirled around them. Ross took hold of Clay’s hand, hoping he could pull his mate away. Alas, Joseph cut off their escape, not physically, but through his mind.

 

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In spite of the mate bond with Clay, Joseph still held a strong grip over Ross. His spirit invaded Ross’s mind, and while it didn’t possess Ross like it had before, it still broke his focus and made his limbs weak and heavy. Clay took him in his arms in an attempt to carry him, but it turned out to be useless. With Ross’s power no longer containing them, the ferals surrounded them again. “What are you waiting for?” Joseph growled at his men. “Take them down.” Chaos burst all around them. Ross was distantly aware of Joseph keeping the humans at bay with his spiritual abilities. As it would seem, even the leader of the ferals knew how to be discreet on occasion. At any rate, it didn’t take long for the group to subdue Clay and Ross. Clay tried to protect them, but he was one man standing against many, and even if he fought bravely, he could not hold them back forever. Ross tried to break free of his mental apathy and help his mate, but he didn’t manage to do so in time. A large feral grabbed him away from Clay, distracting Ross’s mate in the process. Several more ferals jumped on Clay, holding him down when the spirit wolf struggled wildly, reaching out to Ross. Ross’s vision blurred, and he realized in dismay he was crying. He’d always done his best not to cry in front of Joseph, knowing his pain just brought the damn monster satisfaction. Joseph grinned at him. “Isn’t that sweet? The star-crossed lovers. Or should I say mates?” He shook his head, tsking. “If only I’d known you were in love, I’d have… Oh, wait. I’d have done exactly the same thing.” “You fucking bastard,” Ross snarled. “Just let us go. You can’t win. There are people looking for us.” Impossibly, Joseph’s smirk turned even more wicked. “I’m counting on that, Ross.” He stepped into Ross’s personal space, taking

 

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advantage of Ross’s inability to move away. He gripped Ross’s chin and brought their faces a breath apart. “And when are you ever going to learn, my pet? I always win, and this time, it won’t be any different.” Ross didn’t offer a reply, but Joseph didn’t seem to expect one. “Bring them,” the feral ordered his men. Clay howled, making Joseph grimace. “And do silence the pup. This racket will just attract the humans.” The ferals silently obeyed, and with a few well-placed punches, shut Clay up. Ross winced as his mate’s physical pain echoed through him, but it was nothing compared to his emotional one. He knew Clay was alive, but how long would he stay that way while in Joseph’s clutches? Ross allowed the ferals to drag him off with no struggle. At this point, he could only hope a miracle happened, and the spirit wolves somehow found them, although he thought that might not be a good thing. Klaus might get hurt if he became involved in this battle. The thought made him realize he could not give up the fight, not just yet. Sooner or later, Joseph’s attention would stray, and then Ross would be ready. **** A flight from London to Paris didn’t take long, and yet, halfway there, Klaus knew they were too late. He sensed the exact moment when Ross and Clay fell into Joseph’s hands. He couldn’t pinpoint one single feeling that made him realize it. It was rather a whole amalgam of them, a burst of power, terror, determination, and anger. “Klaus, are you all right?” Wolfram asked him. Klaus shook his head. “Joseph has them. I just know it.” Dietrich cursed under his breath, while Wolfram’s expression turned concerned. “Are you certain?”

 

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Klaus just nodded. His skin itched and his gut twisted, the desire to be by his mates’ sides so powerful it hurt. The private jet, even if incredibly fast, seemed to go with the speed of a turtle. All conversation ceased, the atmosphere ripe with tension and the knowledge of what was at stake. As soon as the plane landed, Klaus wanted to leave the airport. The pendant burned in his pocket, as if demanding to be followed. But the many reinforcements they’d brought demanded organization. Even if they’d be useful in the fight against Joseph, right now, they just seemed a nuisance. After what felt like forever, they at last left the private airport. Cars waited for them. From the outside, they looked like simple human vehicles, of various colors and sizes, but they had been specially manufactured for the spirit wolves and held various improvements, weapons, and bulletproof windows. Klaus got behind the wheel of the first one, positioning the map and pendant within view. A small point on the map showed their current location. It traveled in the general direction of the main Parisian area. Klaus followed it like he would a GPS, just like Hewitt said. Behind him, the convoy of vehicles followed, each at a reasonable distance away so that they would not draw the attention of humans. It wasn’t unusual for stars to come visiting Paris, but stealth might come in handy. Slowly, but surely, they progressed through the traffic. The pendant began to glow brighter, as if letting them know they were approaching their target. At this point, Klaus drove almost on autopilot, his whole world focusing on the whisper of the magic telling him where he needed to go. At last, their journey ended when they reached a small section of the former warehouse district, now transformed by a series of modern projects. It was hard to believe the eclectic beauty of Bercy served as hiding spot for ferals, but the magic couldn’t lie. Already, Klaus could

 

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feel his mates closer. The bond with Clay and Ross, even if unfulfilled, guided his steps. He would not disappoint them, not this time.

 

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Chapter Five Clay cracked his eyes open, trying to shake his dizziness away. His head throbbed with an atrocious pain, but even through that, he recalled what happened. He and Ross had been captured by Joseph Garou. Clay had never met the feral before, and what he did remember now was hazy at best. He struggled to focus his vision, and when he managed, he found with surprise he’d at one point been relocated from the Parisian streets to a large, airy room. The luxurious furniture and stylish decoration created a picture that seemed torn from a designer’s catalogue. But as Clay tried to stand, he realized he could not. He was cuffed and chained to the floor, like some animal. Silver manacles squeezed his wrists in a tight grip, burning his flesh. Clay tried to pull harder, aching to be with his mate. Panic coursed through him. Where could Ross be? No matter how much he strained against the cuffs, he could not break their hold. It seemed the owner of this chamber, probably Joseph, made some modifications to the original concept. The sound of approaching footsteps alerted him to a new presence. Before Clay could free himself, Joseph appeared in his line of sight. “Well, well. Sleeping Beauty is awake. Welcome back.” Clay glared at the other man. He wouldn’t give Joseph the satisfaction of showing fear. “Thank you,” he replied sarcastically. “Although I have to say, your hospitality leaves a lot to be desired.”

 

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Joseph laughed. “I see why my pet is so smitten with you. You’ve got spunk.” His expression turned wicked and his eyes roamed over Clay’s body. “I look forward to tasting it.” Clay barely managed to suppress a shudder of disgust. He remembered Ross’s reluctance to be intimate with him, and understanding dawned. Even if Ross never explained what abuse he’d suffered at Joseph’s hands, some of it must have been sexual as well. The anger fueled his waning strength, and he pulled against his silver chains wildly. He thought he heard the wall crack a bit, and the sound renewed his determination. “You fucking bastard. I’ll kill you.” Before he could free himself, a harsh blow violently cast aside his zeal. “Settle down. We have enough wild animals around here. Of course, if you’d like to join our ranks, I won’t refuse you.” “Never,” Clay snarled. “You might change your mind soon enough.” Clay sensed his mate’s presence approach, and a feral entered the room, dragging Ross after him. The new arrival pushed Ross on the large, four poster bed in the middle of the chamber. Ross shook his head, as if trying to dispel his own dizziness. “C–Clay?” His voice slurred slightly, and Clay recognized the incoming sign of a feral seizure. Usually, the serum held back the virus, and it didn’t need to be administered more than once a day. What had Joseph done to Ross? “You may be wondering what’s wrong with your little mate.” Joseph grinned. “Let’s just say I have an incipient product, just dying to be tested.” Clay recalled the destruction of the lab and wondered what Joseph planned. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good for them. “So test it on yourself and leave us alone.” It was a futile reply, and he knew it. Predictably, Joseph ignored him. He waved his soldier off and joined Ross on the bed. Ross tried to crawl away, but his motions were sluggish. Clay himself could sense the slight mental apathy, most likely Joseph’s handiwork.

 

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Joseph moved so fast Clay almost didn’t see him. In one single instant, he climbed on top of Ross and began to divest Clay’s mate of his clothes. He took his time, apparently enjoying each wince and cry, drawing out the experience for a maximum amount of pain. Clay howled, desperately trying to reach them. One gaze from Joseph made his mind feel numb and heavy. Clay fought the powerful spiritual hold, but his efforts did nothing to stop the feral. It seemed Joseph somehow managed to enter Ross’s mind, and through Ross, his power trickled into Clay as well. Anger and horror shot through Clay at the realization that he could truly do nothing to save his mate. He’d just sit there and watch Ross be raped, helpless, tied down in the hold of someone so much more powerful than him. This was all his fault. If he hadn’t refused Klaus’s help, because of his own jealousy, they might have been safe now. At least the Magistrate wouldn’t hurt them, not really. But with Joseph… Ross would be sexually assaulted, maybe killed. Spirit Mother, please, help us! Against all odds, Clay’s prayers seemed to be heard. All of a sudden, a shout sounded outside, followed by another and another. The echo of an alarm reached his ears, quickly followed by gunshots and making hope fill him. He already knew who it was. Klaus. “It would seem we have intruders.” Joseph growled lowly and focused his gaze on Ross. This time, Ross fought him. He must’ve sensed their mate, as well. “Get off me,” Ross said. “Get the fuck off me.” Looking even angrier, Joseph punched Ross. The young man fell against the pillows, panting hard. For the first time, Clay noticed heavy cuffs tied to the headboard as well. Joseph chained Ross down then got off the bed. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said in a faux sweet tone. He made his way to Clay. In brisk, efficient motions, he punched and kicked Clay, driving all

 

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strength out of him. Clay heard his ribs crack at one point, but he refused to cry out. Joseph didn’t look like he cared. He left the room without giving him another glance. Distantly, Clay heard him bark out a couple of orders, and two big ferals entered the room, meant to guard them. Through the haze of pain, Clay kept a small spark of hope. Ross seemed weak, but otherwise, unharmed. They’d narrowly escaped a disaster. Now, Clay needed to trust Klaus. He needed to hope that, for once, Klaus would not let him down. **** The lavish building masquerading as a business center held an army of ferals. Klaus and his men managed to enter stealthily, but the security systems were top notch, even better than at the Magistrate’s Den. There were cameras everywhere, sensors analyzing every approaching individual, and dozens and dozens of guards. Even as he advanced, Klaus could feel the agony his mates passed through. It was so hard to keep control and not charge forward like he wanted to, but he couldn’t risk being noticed. It would draw more unwanted attention to Ross and Clay. It only took one false move for everything to turn to hell. One of the soldiers must’ve tripped a sensor because alarms started screeching. Doors opened, with the feral guards rushing through the base. Behind them, the building sealed tight to prevent all escape. Of course, the last thing Klaus intended was to flee. He prepared his gun, and the moment the first guards appeared, shot them down. They advanced through the structure with bullets flying all around them. It was an ugly fight, not the traditional path spirit wolves usually took. They didn’t have time for melee, and not just because of the urgency to retrieve the prisoners. Both ferals and spirit wolves fell victim to the rain of metal projectiles. Even so, they managed to push the defending soldiers

 

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back. Wolfram’s aid proved to be invaluable, as on several occasions he succeeded in shielding his men from the attacks or helped boost their healing abilities. It only served to disillusion the ferals further. But all that changed when Joseph appeared. Klaus had not met the man, but he knew him on sight, regardless. He looked very much like Dietrich, or rather, Dietrich looked like him. Power emanated from him, invisible threads of darkness reaching out to them. But Klaus didn’t fear him. No matter what happened and who stood in the way, he’d get to his mates. Having obviously expected the feral’s arrival, Wolfram attacked. Klaus could do nothing in this dispute. The ferals’ ferocity increased, and Klaus focused his entire determination and abilities on eliminating them. At last, he managed to clear the path enough to pass. As he ran forward, he turned to look at his friend. In his Magistrate spirit wolf form, Wolfram battled Joseph relentlessly. The feral had also shifted into a huge black wolf. They seemed to be evenly matched, at least for now. This was the moment Klaus had been waiting for all his life. Soon, Joseph would somehow overpower Wolfram, probably through some trickery. It would be up to Klaus to help his leader. Wolfram’s voice sounded in his head, clear and strong. “I’ll distract him. You go ahead and find Ross and Clay.” It was a choice between love and duty, a choice Klaus had made many times in the past. This time, however, Klaus could no longer ignore the pull of his mates. Klaus would have liked to stay and help his leader, but his priorities lay with Ross and Clay now. Behind him, Dietrich nodded wordlessly. Klaus’s mate was a true warrior, and Klaus could trust him to lead their men through this battle. Decision made, Klaus dodged his way through the fighters, both spirit wolves and ferals. He moved quickly, following his own instincts this time. They led him to the topmost level of the building. On occasion, more guards would come his way, but Klaus managed to

 

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deal with them. Still, their appearance caused a delay that irked Klaus beyond belief. He shifted into his wolf form, deciding he’d be faster this way. This made it impossible for him to carry his equipment further, but there were more guns in this building than in every war zone on the planet. He could find another weapon with ease. With his senses open and his spirit soaring, he rushed through the building and up the stairs. The staircase was defended by even more guards. They seemed tense, the fingers on the triggers of the guns twitching nervously. One bullet, one wrong step, and they would bring about their own destruction. Speculating his advantage, Klaus attacked. He lunged at the feral closest to him and landed on the man’s back. With his mind completely focused, he tore into the feral’s jugular then shifted back in his two-legged form. Before the man’s colleagues could break out of their shock, Klaus grabbed his victim’s weapon and unleashed a rain of bullets over the guards. Some managed to take cover, while others received severe injuries from Klaus’s surprise attack. Even so, Klaus was not surprised in the least when the guards retaliated with gunshots of their own. He used his victim’s body as a shield and managed to escape the deadly bullets. At the same time, he took advantage of their distraction to move forward. In a few swift tactical maneuvers, Klaus managed to position himself straight in the middle of the group. A few more wellpositioned gunshots attracted their attention. Then Klaus moved aside, just in time to avoid being caught in the crossfire. Essentially, the feral guards ended up shooting themselves. A few terrible moments later, the staircase at last lay free of obstacle. Not all of the ferals had died, and Klaus held no interest in killing them. In general, he despised killing, just like most of his brethren did. But now, he did not have time for such sensibilities.

 

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Abandoning the injured and dead, Klaus shifted once again and took off on the stairs. The few guards he encountered further up didn’t present any particular problem. At last, he reached the last level. At the very end of the corridor, he spotted his destination, a room with a few more guards around it. Klaus didn’t know if they felt him or not, but one of them appeared in the hallway, shouting, “Back off, if you don’t want them to die.” The man looked completely serious. Even if Joseph might have ordered to keep Ross and Clay alive, ferals were unstable at best. Under the circumstances, Klaus couldn’t trust them not to harm his mates. He was stuck. A wave of power flowed through him, and Klaus felt it indirectly, through the not-yet-completed bond with Ross. The ferals faltered, seeming confused, as if they lost the trail of their own thoughts. Klaus understood that somehow, Ross managed to help him. But he sensed Ross’s exhaustion and pain, and he knew his mate would not be able to keep using his power for much longer. In a flash, he shot forward, his heart trembling with the doubt and fear that the ferals might attack his mates, but his mind focused on the ultimate goal. The guards went down under his fangs and claws, just in time, too, because Klaus sensed Ross’s power drain and dissipate, releasing its hold over the ferals. But Ross had given Klaus the invaluable opportunity to get close, and he dispatched his opponents with relative ease. At last, he entered the room, and the sight that met his eyes made his blood boil with fury and his heart hurt. Ross lay tied to the bed with silver manacles, his body straining to get loose. Sweat dewed his forehead, turning his red hair almost black. All the while, Clay struggled against silver chains, desperately trying to reach Ross. “Klaus.” Clay looked at him, his eyes swirling with relief, pain, and anxiety. “You came.”

 

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Klaus shifted to his human form. He was torn between rushing to Clay and helping Ross. In the end, he chose Clay, surmising that together, they’d be able to free Ross easier and faster. Fighting with the chains might have been an exercise in futility for most spirit wolves, but not so with Klaus. His strong hold on his spirit gave him the ability break the manacles and release his mate. Clay shot to his feet. Klaus reached out to help his mate, but Clay shook his head. “Ross. He needs us.” Klaus didn’t argue. He just pushed Clay away and rushed to Ross’s side. Just like he had with Clay, he broke the chains and opened the manacles. The silver burned his hands, but he ignored it. He was just too happy to see his mates to care. On impulse, he hugged Ross to his chest. He didn’t expect his embrace to be welcome, but Ross relaxed against him. “Thank God. I just knew you would not leave us.” Klaus lifted his young mate in his arms. Ross and Clay’s trust humbled him, but this time, he would not let them down. Ross’s body trembled in his hold, and Klaus knew the other man hovered at the limit between reason and insanity. The hold of the virus was very strong now in Ross. Did he dare claim Ross now? The double bite would heal his mate, but something held Klaus back. Before Klaus could figure out what to do, Ross’s eyes widened. “K–Klaus,” he stammered, “behind you.” Klaus placed Ross back on the bed and turned to meet Joseph head on. The feral sneered at him from the doorway. “How sweet,” Joseph said. “But I’m afraid I can’t let you take my pet. You people already stole my heir.” He grimaced. “Still can’t believe that stupid boy mated the Magistrate. “ Klaus just stared at the man in disbelief, while Joseph continued to rant. “At any rate, Ross’s abilities work marvelously as my plan B. He belongs to me, and he knows it.” The puzzle pieces were starting to fall into place. Joseph fancied himself a ruler over all ferals and intended to use his son—Dietrich—

 

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to further his power, probably guessing Dietrich would eventually turn feral. Ross had been chosen as an alternative solution—the plan B. But Wolfram had reached Dietrich before the other man could lose control over his beast, therefore leaving only Ross as a tool to be used by Joseph. “Ross doesn’t belong to you,” Klaus shot back. “He’s a person, not a possession.” Joseph laughed. “I disagree.” He shrugged and stepped inside the room. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll have to eliminate you now.” Klaus gritted his teeth in anger and fear. Had the man defeated Wolfram so easily? No, it couldn’t be. Klaus would have known it if Wolfram died. Their Magistrate represented the pillar of their entire nation. All of them would feel his demise, if or when the time came. Shaking himself, Klaus focused on his present threat. “Clay, take Ross and get out of here. I’ll keep him busy.” Joseph arched a brow at him. “And what makes you think you can do that?” He didn’t even wait for a reply. In a flash, the feral shifted into his wolf form, the same black beast Klaus saw earlier fighting Wolfram. It was huge, its fangs as sharp as daggers and its energies attacking Klaus’s even from the distance. But Klaus didn’t allow Joseph to intimidate him. He turned into his animal as well. At the same time, they lunged toward each other, their bodies colliding in midair. Joseph might have thought himself capable to defeat all other spirit wolves except Wolfram, and perhaps he could. But Klaus wasn’t exactly new at this, either. He’d spent many centuries at Wolfram’s side, and his job didn’t amount to just bureaucracy. He’d been Wolfram’s aide in everything from handling paperwork to leading troops in battle. His opponent might be stronger than him this time, but Klaus trusted his own strength, and he knew he could delay Joseph for enough time to allow Ross and Clay to escape.

 

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They rolled around on the floor, snapping savagely at each other. A distant part of him registered Clay obeying his instructions and heading toward the exit with Ross. It was not easy, but Klaus managed to keep Joseph busy. Their spirits dueled just like their body did, but none of them managed to gain an upper hand. The heavy fur got in the way of their fangs, while both their minds held heavy barriers, making it difficult for the other to attack it. Klaus decided to find a weak spot and aimed for the sensitive skin of Joseph’s belly. With his hind legs, he scratched at the area, making Joseph recoil in pain. He intended to pursue this advantage, but, to his surprise, Joseph backed down. Klaus realized what Joseph intended a second too late. Clay and Ross were inches away from safety, but it wasn’t good enough. Joseph lunged at them, his heavy body falling right on top of Clay. The young spirit wolf didn’t get the chance to dodge, but he did manage to put Ross down at the last moment. Ross rolled away from them in a somewhat unconscious motion. At this point, Ross seemed to operate on instinct alone. The immediate danger lay both in Ross’s mind and in Joseph. The feral shifted to human form and grabbed Clay in what must’ve been an unbreakable grip. “Back off, or he dies.” Klaus froze. Yet again, he did not know what to do. He sensed Ross try to attack Joseph, but the spiritual force was easily repelled by Joseph. “Nice try, pet,” Joseph said, “but you can’t beat me. You never could.” The feral turned his attention to Klaus. “Now, if you would be so kind, change forms.” Klaus obeyed. “What do you expect to gain with this?” he asked. Joseph grinned at him. “You’ll see. Walk toward me, slowly.” Klaus narrowed his eyes at the feral, trying to judge how he could break Joseph’s hold on Clay. Joseph must have noticed his plan. “Don’t even think about it. I won’t have any qualms in breaking his neck.”

 

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As if to prove his point, Joseph squeezed Clay harder. Clay clutched at Joseph’s arm, trying to free himself, to take in enough oxygen. His erratic motions only made it more difficult for Klaus to focus. “Okay,” he said. “I get it. Just don’t hurt him.” Ever so slowly, he made his way toward Joseph. With every step, he understood that there was no way out. In the feral’s eyes, he saw his own death. Strangely, he did not hesitate. Instead, he understood at last. His dreams had never been about Wolfram’s death, or Clay’s. They’d suggested his own demise, only his subconscious refused to accept it. Still, the nightmares prepared him for this, in a veiled way, readied him for the moment when he would have to defeat their greatest foe. Klaus was, indeed, ready. He did not want to die, of course, but he’d do it for his mates. Joseph would always hunt Ross for as long as he lived, just like he’d always try to defeat the spirit wolves. Nothing could change that, and while Wolfram was powerful, only the full strength of an unleashed soul could eliminate Joseph’s abilities. So, Klaus continued onward, his gaze focusing on Clay. His mate looked very pale, those gorgeous gray eyes terrified. Klaus tried to convey reassurance, to wordlessly tell Clay everything would be all right. He’d have wanted to say the same thing to Ross. But it would have been a lie, and Klaus refused to lie to Clay again. Even if he’d accepted his fate, he still felt a shock of surprise and panic when Joseph suddenly pushed Clay aside. The feral moved so fast Klaus almost didn’t see him. The next thing he knew, Joseph’s fist penetrated his rib cage, bursting through flesh and bone. Pain shot through him, but he didn’t even have enough time to process it. In one single motion, Joseph pulled out Klaus’s heart and tossed it on the floor.

 

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Klaus registered all this distantly, as if through a dream. The moment his body stopped functioning, his soul burst out with a vengeful cry. Angry and decided, Klaus attacked. **** Clay could not believe his eyes. He watched Klaus’s limp body fall, a large, gaping wound where his heart had been. The organ lay in a pool of blood mere inches away. Not even spirit wolves could recover from that sort of wound. Klaus was dead. And yet, Clay saw Klaus’s wolf jumping on Joseph, more powerful than ever. Joseph fell, obscenely close to Klaus’s body. The animal shone with bright light and it tore at Joseph viciously, its claws and fangs leaving trails of burnt flesh on Joseph’s skin. Joseph tried to push the beast away, but he didn’t have a chance. He turned into his animal form as well, his spirit dueling with Klaus’s. Clay ached to help his mate somehow, but their connection had never been fulfilled. Ross crawled to his side. “What’s happening?” he asked in a weak voice. Clay didn’t answer. He simply couldn’t find words. The overflow of emotions robbed him of the power of speech. He just sat there, staring as the two wolves battled. It was over sooner than Clay expected. The light emanating from Klaus’s wolf engulfed Joseph completely. An agonized howl—almost a screech—swept through the room, shattering the windows. The high pitched sound made Clay’s ears hurt, his sensitive hearing for once a downside. But Clay felt too lost in his shock to care. He clutched Ross’s hand absently, his gaze on the same spot, trying to figure out the result of the battle. A spark of hope lingered inside him. Perhaps once Joseph was defeated, Klaus could somehow be revived.

 

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Footsteps sounded behind him, drawing him out of his trance. Klaus’s sacrifice would mean nothing if Clay and Ross were killed by other ferals. He got up, fully intending to protect his remaining mate. He needn’t have worried. In a few moments, he noticed the Magistrate approach, Dietrich and more spirit wolves close behind him. Clay had never thought he’d ever be happy to see Wolfram, but he knew that if someone could help Klaus, it was their leader. Clay waved at the approaching figures. “Here. Please, help.” Wolfram reached them and took in their appearance with one stoic look. He then stole a peek inside the room. His demeanor changed, and he visibly tensed. “What happened?” he asked. Clay opened his mouth to explain. It had been all his fault, and he knew it. If only he’d managed to move out of Joseph’s reach faster, this would have never happened. His bad decisions and lack of appropriate training led them all to his disaster. Another voice answered in his stead. “Joseph attacked me,” Klaus said. “I managed to defeat him. Unfortunately, I suffered a severe injury in the process.” Klaus’s transparent figure appeared in front of them. He smiled gently at Clay and Ross. “It’s okay now,” he whispered. “It’s all over. My task is done.” “Joseph is dead?” Dietrich asked. Klaus nodded, pointing to the second body in the bedroom, Joseph’s. Clay couldn’t be certain, but he trusted Klaus’s assessment and guessed the feral was dead. Distantly, he noticed Dietrich’s voice trembled a bit. Perhaps Dietrich felt bad about Joseph’s demise. The feral remained his father, no matter what happened. The thought made him furious, but he refrained from vocalizing his anger, choosing to ignore Dietrich instead. “My Lord,” he told Wolfram. “Please, help Klaus. You can do it.” The Magistrate stepped inside the room, passing right by Klaus’s spirit form. He knelt next to Klaus’s body and gently took the abandoned heart. Clay held his breath as Wolfram placed the organ

 

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back into the chest cavity. Taking a deep breath, Wolfram closed his eyes, seemingly concentrating on the still body. In his spirit form, Klaus sighed and shook his head. “Don’t, Wolfram. This is beyond you, and you know it. You’re not a god. You can’t resurrect people.” For a little while, Wolfram continued his efforts, but then, his shoulders slumped. He got up and looked at Klaus. “My friend…” “There’s nothing you can do,” Klaus said again. “I have one request, if you would grant it of me. Please, protect my mates in my absence.” Wolfram nodded. “It will be done.” Clay trembled, certain he wasn’t hearing things right. “Klaus, no! He can help. Someone can help. There has to be a way.” Klaus knelt next to him. “I’m sorry, my love, but there isn’t.” Ross tried to reach out to Klaus, but his hand fell limp. The virus was getting to him, and Clay could sense every lingering strength seep out of his young mate. Klaus’s ghostly hand caressed the side of Ross’s face. “I wish things could have been different,” he murmured. “I wish I could have loved you like you deserve.” He laughed lightly. “In a way, I already do. You and I, we knew each other before we even met.” Ross leaned into the caress and nodded. “K–Klaus…” “Shh… It’s okay.” Klaus pressed his lips to Ross’s in a brief, almost chaste kiss. Instantly, Clay sensed the transfer of energy. The feral insanity clouding Ross’s mind dwindled, and Clay once again felt his mate whole and human. It was almost as if Klaus claimed Ross through their one brief kiss, but Clay knew it didn’t work that way. While Klaus’s spirit managed to clear Ross from the virus, their bond remained just as distant as before. Klaus broke apart from Ross then took Clay’s hand. His touch felt cool, but still so familiar on Clay’s skin, like the whisper of a cold

 

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breeze in a summer morning. “I’m so sorry about this,” Klaus said. “I hurt you, and I’ll always regret it. Please forgive me.” Clay wanted to throw his arms around Klaus, to tell his mate he’d forget all about their previous conflict, if only Klaus stayed with him. Unfortunately, Klaus’s figure began to dim, until Clay no longer felt his mate’s touch. He tried to keep his hold on Klaus’s hand, but his fingers went straight through. “It’s time for me to go,” Klaus said. “Take care of each other. Remember, you’ll always have my love.” “Klaus, no,” Ross tried to say. “Please…” But it was too late. Klaus’s form dissipated, leaving just open space where he’d been. Acute sorrow hit Clay, choking him, making his vision dim. He hadn’t truly acknowledged his mate’s death until Klaus’s soul left as well, but now, he felt it deep inside. He couldn’t move and couldn’t think. Everything became dark, and the only reason he didn’t follow Klaus into death was Ross. People shuffled around them, talking in low voices. They seemed to be making arrangements to wrap the operation up. Someone knelt next to him and Ross, but Clay couldn’t hear the words the person in question spoke. He thought it might have been the Magistrate, but right now, he didn’t care. People with body bags appeared and removed Joseph’s body. Clay just watched them impassively, but he snapped out of his trance when he saw them start to work on Klaus. Their hands on his mate… Cold, uncaring touches, from people who couldn’t possibly understand. He would not allow it. Clay and Ross shot to their feet at the same time. As one, they rushed to Klaus’s side. “No!” Clay shouted. “Don’t touch him. You’ll disturb his rest.” The spirit wolves around Klaus backed away slowly. The Magistrate approached them and waved the soldiers off. “Clay, he’ll

 

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be honored best once we get home,” Wolfram said. “I assure you I will do my best to care for him.” Clay wanted to say that Wolfram should have acted when Klaus still lived, not now, when it was too late. Where had Wolfram been when Joseph attacked them? Wolfram occupied the position of Magistrate. He should have battled the strongest foe, not Klaus. “I’m so sorry,” Wolfram whispered. “I almost defeated Joseph, but I let my guard down, and he broke free. He seemed to have a shortcut through the building. I just… I wish things could have been different. You have no idea how much.” An apology seemed out of character from anyone occupying the position of Magistrate. Something in Wolfram’s eyes gave Clay pause. He saw genuine pain there, and he respected it. It was born out of affection for Klaus. Even if Wolfram had once been his rival, Clay could no longer maintain the energy to hate now. He nodded at the Magistrate. “Thank you. We’ll finish things here.” Together with Ross, Clay put Klaus’s remains inside a body bag. It hurt him physically to cover Klaus’s handsome features, so dear to him, in the black plastic. He forced himself to do so, clinging to the thought that his mate would receive a decent passing ceremony. From then on, everything became a blur, the only points still real in his life were the body bag and Ross. He followed the Magistrate out of the building like an automaton. The spirit wolves seemed to be doing damage control and ensuring the humans didn’t become too involved in this mess. Clay didn’t pay attention to the hustle and bustle. The existence of his people could be revealed for all he cared. Wolfram led them to a car and loaded the bag inside. Logic might have told them it should go in the trunk, but instead, Wolfram put it on the back seat. The car’s size allowed both Clay and Ross to squeeze next to their mate. It should have been gruesome, but instead, it consoled Clay, insofar as he could find comfort in any way.

 

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Dietrich appeared next to the window, and Clay overheard the exchange. “I’m taking Klaus back to the Den. Can you stay and look after things here?” “Sure, Wolfram,” Dietrich replied. “Take care, all right?” Wolfram nodded. Dietrich stepped away from the vehicle, and the Magistrate started the car. “We’re going home,” he murmured. Clay didn’t know who the Magistrate spoke to—him, Ross, or Klaus. In the end, it didn’t matter. As Wolfram drove off, Clay leaned against the window and allowed his mind to shut down.

 

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Chapter Six Ross had never been to the Magistrate’s Den. A different time, the sight of it would have left him in awe. Now, he just took it all in with indifference, the majestic building unable to move him. He felt tired, so very tired, and so cold inside. He’d barely known Klaus. They’d spent maybe fifteen minutes together before circumstances forced them apart. And yet, in his heart, Ross had always sensed the other man, just beyond his dreams. Perhaps that had been the only thing keeping him sane during his captivity with Joseph. He’d wanted to try to explore the connection between them, to somehow understand why Klaus acted the way he did. But now, the man was dead, leaving Ross and Clay behind in an abyss of sorrow. During the trip to the Den, Ross managed to doze, but every time, he awoke after a few minutes, tormented by visions of Klaus’s bloody corpse. He felt thankful they finally reached their destination—for his mate, at least. He knew Clay’s family would be waiting to comfort him. Indeed, when the plane landed and they followed Wolfram out, they were met by a distraught Hart clan. Everyone was there, from Clay’s parents Marion and Grant, to his siblings and their respective mates and families. Ross winced. The last time he’d seen them, he’d tried to kill Paul Blunt and insulted Clay and Amy in front of Ashton. He received a few ugly looks, but other than that, no one paid him any heed. Or so he thought, until Paul Blunt and Linden Rivers appeared by his side. “Hi,” Paul said awkwardly. “I’m sorry to hear about Klaus.”

 

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“I’m sorry I tried to kill you,” Ross replied. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. Besides, he didn’t deserve to be included in this, anyway. Ross would do his best to support Clay and honor Klaus, but beyond that, he did not belong with these people. Paul shrugged. “Water under the bridge.” He paused and gave Ross an unreadable look. “I can’t claim I know how you feel, but if you’d let me, I’d love to be your friend.” Out of all the people at the Hart compound, Paul had always been the most approachable one, with the exception of Clay, of course. Ross didn’t welcome the young human’s inquisitiveness, but neither did he have the energy to fight. “Okay,” he said simply. To his surprise, Linden took his hand and pulled him through the crowd. “Come on. Right now, the person you need most is your mate.” Ross followed the other man, acutely aware of all the eyes on him. In front of him, Clay stood hugging a weeping Amy. Neither of the two siblings spoke, but their connection was clear, and Ross felt uncomfortable interrupting them. Surprisingly, it was the Magistrate who broke up the moment. “We’re going to have to make arrangements now.” Clay broke away from Amy’s embrace and nodded. “Of course.” His voice sounded as hollow as Ross felt. Ignoring everyone else present, Ross reached out for his mate’s hand. Clay took it, and together they followed the Magistrate inside. The procession of the Harts did the same, and in the lull of activity and voices, Ross found himself drifting in memory and want. In his mind, he saw the first night he’d met Klaus, but the end of it changed. Instead of Klaus leaving to ask for Wolfram’s help, the man stayed with them. He imagined the three of them traveling together and finding a hiding spot away from everything else. Perhaps Burma would be nice. Joseph would not be able to reach them there. Klaus must have visited, but he didn’t think Clay had. Ross would have to remember to ask. Then again, no matter where

 

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they went, Ross would be happy, as long as he had his mates by his side. Ross smiled to himself. He was a very lucky man, indeed, having the affection of such handsome, wonderful men. Sure, they might have their issues, but what couple didn’t? He could see it now, him, Klaus, and Clay, alone together, just enjoying each other’s presence within the magnificence of nature. A heavy slap landed on his face. Klaus’s image and the beautiful dream began to dissipate. Ross blinked and rubbed his cheek, staring at the Magistrate’s face in confusion. “W–What…?” “Focus, Ross, Clay. Do you remember where we are?” Ross took a look around. By his side, Clay seemed just as confused. But as the remnants of the fantasy disappeared at last, Ross recalled it all. He and Clay were not headed to a romantic honeymoon with Klaus. Klaus was dead. “I’ve seen this before,” the Magistrate said in front of their combined silence.”You must not allow this denial to take hold of you. You need to keep yourselves sane and whole until Klaus can come back to you.” A few weeks back, Ross would have laughed in front of that, but now, he knew for a fact reincarnation was possible. During his stay at the Hart compound, he’d found out many things about the family, more than the Harts would probably be comfortable with. He knew Linden and his mate, Caesar, died in their past lives but were reunited and completed their bond with Ashton Hart. Would Ross and Clay have to wait one hundred years or more for Klaus? They would, no doubt about it, but it still hurt like hell. Still, the thought gave him courage. He couldn’t break now, not if he had one thread of light in the horizon. It was barely visible, but it still existed. “You’re right,” he said. “Thank you.”

 

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He realized then he didn’t have a clue where they were. He’d completely zoned out for God only knew how long. “This is Klaus’s room,” Clay explained, obviously sensing his confusion. Wolfram nodded. “Wait here for a while. I’ll come get you once everything is ready.” Ross started to protest. “But we have to be with Klaus. We—” The Magistrate lifted a hand, the authority he emanated killing Ross’s words. “You’ll be with him later. Just try to get some sleep. I know it’s hard, but you have to take care of yourselves. I’ll have one of the servants bring you something to eat.” Without another word, Wolfram left the room. Clay and Ross remained all alone. Wolfram’s high-handedness frustrated Ross, but he admitted the other man might be at least half right. Still, it felt odd to be here in Klaus’s absence. The sorrow seemed both intensified and sweetened, like the poison of a deadly drug that brought ecstasy before the kill. Clay led him to the sleeping quarters, and they fell together on the bed. The sheets still smelled like Klaus—although how Ross could identify Klaus’s scent remained a mystery. Ross closed his eyes and cuddled close to Clay. “Why did this have to happen?” Clay murmured. “We could have been happy together. I’d have forgiven Klaus.” “I know,” Ross replied. “We’ll wait for him, like the Magistrate said. We’ll wait.” True, the virus might be gone, but a hidden knowledge told Ross that Klaus’s kiss had not taken away the long life the feral insanity granted him. He didn’t know his limits yet, but for the moment, the only thing he cared about was staying at Clay’s side, and sleeping for a hundred years or more, until Klaus returned to them. “I understand now,” Clay said after a while. “If Klaus had claimed me, it would’ve been worse. Somehow, he always knew.” “Worse?” Ross repeated.

 

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Clay nodded. “The severed bond could have driven us both insane.” Clay’s stormy eyes met Ross’s. “But together, we can deal with this pain. He will return to us. We have to focus on that.” Ross didn’t know how long they lay there trying to convince themselves they’d be able to defeat the sorrow and emptiness left behind by Klaus’s death. At last, a knock sounded at the door. Clay got up and brought their meal into the bedroom. They ate in silence, more out of the knowledge they needed to feed their bodies than out of actual desire to do so. The food tasted like ash in Ross’s mouth, but he forced himself to ingest it. After all, he hadn’t eaten in quite a while. After a quick snack, they washed up and changed clothes, using two outfits someone prepared for them. Once they finished, they found themselves out of activity and again falling in the realization of where they were and what brought them here in the first place. Thankfully, they didn’t get to rationalize it too much. Another knock announced a second visit, but this time, it was the Magistrate. “We’re holding a service for Klaus,” he said. “It’s starting now.” In a strange way, Ross felt relieved. He could no longer withstand the wait. Even with Clay by his side, he needed to see Klaus again, if only once. He’d already been away from Klaus far too long. Both Clay and Ross nodded. Wolfram led them out of Klaus’s quarters and into a large hallway. Ross didn’t remember ever coming this way, but he must have, otherwise he would have never ended up in Klaus’s room. Wolfram had a point. Ross and Clay needed to keep their wits if they wanted to live on, for Klaus. Wolfram took them on winding corridors, explaining something Ross couldn’t quite grasp. It must be quite an honor to have the Magistrate cater to them like this, but it just made Ross even more uncomfortable.

 

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“…and Klaus’s family has also flown in. They’re not a very tightknit group, so they shouldn’t give you any trouble. But if they do, just come to me, and I’ll set them straight.” Ross almost fainted as he caught the final part of Wolfram’s words. Great, just great. Not only would he have to face the Harts, but also Klaus’s kin, who most likely blamed him for his mate’s death. His mate’s death… God, this was real. His knees buckled and he would have fallen if not for Clay catching him. “Shh,” Clay said. “It’s okay. We’ll be waiting, remember?” Ross nodded. This wouldn’t last forever. Just a wait, just a wait. He’d have to repeat that to himself until he believed it. At last, they reached their destination. The ceremony turned out to be quite private, insofar as spirit wolves could be discreet in such things. Klaus’s parents had come, of course, but they didn’t approach or acknowledge Clay and Ross in any way. They were stern people who took in the rest of those present with cool, almost disdainful eyes. The Hart clan was also there, and Wolfram with his mates. As the mates of the deceased, Clay and Ross took position in front of the room. The first sight of Klaus’s body made the funeral chamber spin in front of Ross’s eyes. He lay on a pedestal bearing a wolf carving and looked so handsome, like he was just sleeping. Klaus wore a garb that seemed torn out of historical movies, with distinct spirit wolves adornments. Ross only noticed it because the top covered Klaus’s chest, the spot where Klaus’s heart once beat. Back in Paris, he’d caught a fleeting glimpse of the moment when Joseph killed Klaus, but the memory of his mate’s body—literally heartless—would never leave his mind. Ross clutched Clay’s hand and tried to find strength in the other man’s presence. Wolfram gave them a little time to compose themselves and then began to speak. The words swept over Ross without registering. Wolfram seemed to be talking about Klaus’s numerous merits and the many people

 

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who’d cared about him. But what could Wolfram know about Klaus? The two had been best friends, yes, but at the same time, they’d been king and subordinate. That barrier had never really been crossed. Somehow, Ross knew it. He’d seen it in Klaus’s eyes, when the man told his tale in Ireland. He fixed his gaze on Klaus’s body, taking in each inch of skin, trying to commit it to memory. He remembered those lips twisting into a smile just for him, and Klaus’s last words. “I wish I could have loved you like you deserve. In a way, I already do.” Ross focused so much on the area around Klaus that the pedestal began to blur, as if an odd veil set itself between him and his mate. He blinked, trying to cast aside the effect, but it didn’t go away. In that moment, he realized he was not the only one experiencing this phenomenon. Murmurs echoed in the room, as several spirit wolves rubbed their eyes obviously in an attempt to clear their vision. Most looked very tense, and it seemed to Ross everyone held their breath in wait of something he couldn’t understand. Energy crackled through the funeral room and the blurring mist began to materialize in a shape. A beautiful white wolf appeared in the front of Klaus’s temporary resting spot. It was huge, so big it shielded Klaus from sight completely, in spite of the height of the pedestal. Its eyes were shining white, its fur like immaculate snow, pure light, blinding like the sun and moon in one. Instantly, all spirit wolves fell to their knees. Ross followed their example, even if he didn’t know why. In a strange way, as he looked at the white wolf, he found the flame of hope rekindled. A friend had arrived. **** Clay gaped in disbelief. He’d always been taught about the Spirit Mother, the deity who protected and watched over them. Some of the

 

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younger spirit wolves questioned her existence, and many times Clay himself doubted her, merely out of spite for Klaus’s rejection. But now, she stood right there in front of him. The White Wolf— the one wolf in existence that lived beyond flesh, an existence of pure spirit. The Magistrate, as her chosen agent, had the ability to channel her power, as did some of the older spirit wolves, to a lesser extent. Clay had never seen it happen, but his brothers told him all about the manifestation of power. Still, he doubted anything Wolfram could do compared to this. The Magistrate himself knelt, bowing in front of the White Wolf. “Please rise, my children,” a female voice said, echoing through the large room in a thousand cadences, both warm and strong. As one, the spirit wolves obeyed. Clay dared to look at her, and to his shock, noticed her staring right back. It almost made him avert his gaze, but he simply could not move. “Do not fear me, my children,” she said. “I would never hurt those I love so dearly.” She turned to Wolfram. “Hello, Magistrate Wolfram Rozenstadt. I trust you don’t mind me intruding like this.” “You honor these halls, My Lady,” Wolfram replied. The wolf chuckled, her tinkling laughter sweeping over them like the delicate touch of a snowdrop. “Oh, Wolfram… Always so formal. How long have we known each other now?” For the first time in his life, Wolfram looked completely lost for words and unable to hide it. After a moment of hesitation, he asked, “My Lady?” The White Wolf shook her head. “No matter. There has been so much pain in the past centuries, but at last, it will come to an end. Klaus’s sacrifice will not be in vain, I assure you.” Clay didn’t know what made him speak out. It just seemed to him that everyone used Klaus, from the Magistrate, to The Spirit Mother.

 

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Angrily, he glared at the deity he worshipped. “But why him? Why did he have to be sacrificed? And for what? It’s not fair. Surely, you could have found another way.” His father’s voice reached out to him in a whisper. “Clay, what are you doing?” Grant asked. “Don’t worry,” the White Wolf answered. “You are in your right to question me. He was chosen for a reason. His heart held enough affection to support an entire nation, just like Wolfram’s holds strength. As for why… This war has gone on for long enough. Dead and living, all must understand the weight of what you have done.” Wolfram looked more puzzled than ever. “My Lady… I don’t understand. Have I wronged you?” The White Wolf shook her head. “You have done as your predecessors decided, although in your heart you always hated the killings, the losses, and you doubted yourself. But no longer. There is another solution, and one which can finally be set into motion. Doctor Blunt?” From the crowd, Andrew’s voice piped up, “Yes, My Lady.” “Expect a visit from me, and your son, too.” Paul Blunt made an unintelligent noise that sounded a lot like an “eep,” but the White Wolf changed the topic. “But the reason I am here is different, and I will not delay it any longer.” The bright glow around the Spirit Mother grew even more, until Clay could no longer see anything. When at last, it began to dwindle, Clay saw a figure standing next to the White Wolf. It was there for a mere moment, but even so, Clay identified it as Klaus. He reached out, desperate to touch his mate, one last time. But Klaus’s silhouette disappeared before Clay could reach it. Clay just stood there, frozen, wondering at the cruelty of the White Wolf, when all of a sudden he heard a moan and a gasp. He instantly recognized the tonality of the voice uttering them. From behind the Spirit Mother, Klaus got off the pedestal, beautiful and alive.

 

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**** Klaus did not understand much about dying. He recalled Clay and Ross’s faces, the pain twisting their exquisite features, the tears he ached to dry, but could not. But after that, it all turned into a blur, a world of dim shadows, flights of black, white and gray, confusing, some warm, some chilly. In the void of souls he lingered for what seemed to be an eternity, until at last, something pulled him out. He heard a strong, familiar voice calling out to him, the same voice that sometimes sounded in his dreams. “You’ve done your duty, Klaus,” the Spirit Mother said. “Everything will be all right now.” Klaus followed the sound. “The balance is finally set,” she continued. “There is no one to exploit the evil in the virus, and with that gone, our world can at last be at peace.” “But how can ferals and spirit wolves ever get along?” Klaus asked, in confusion. “You’ll find a way,” the Spirit Mother replied. A white wolf appeared in front of him, and Klaus recognized her in an instant. “Now come,” she added. “Your mates are waiting.” Klaus couldn’t have said “no” if he wanted to. A force too strong to resist propelled him out of his current location—wherever it might be. He opened his eyes to a wide, cavernous room. After a few moments, the dizziness dissipated and he recognized it as the funeral chamber in the Magistrate’s Den. Forcing his stiff muscles to work, Klaus got up and climbed off the slab holding him. In front of the pedestal stood the majestic figure of the White Wolf. But he could not focus on the Spirit Mother, as he searched for two other people in the room. At last, his eyes fell on Ross and Clay. He could have wept in relief. “Go,” the Spirit Mother whispered. “This moment is for you.”

 

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In a flash, Klaus separated the distance between him and his two mates. Ross and Clay’s arms went around him. “Oh, Klaus…” Clay sobbed. “I thought we’d lost you.” “I can’t believe this,” Ross murmured. “Are you real?” Klaus chuckled and broke the embrace. His head felt light with the realization of what he’d lost and had been gifted back. “Very real.” When he stepped away from his mates, he realized they were no longer in the funeral room. Instead, they’d somehow been transported to his chambers. “Wow…” Ross said, sounding breathless. “That’s amazing. Are you sure this isn’t a dream?” Clay pinched himself then Ross. Apparently, this persuaded Ross because he grinned. “Okay, I’m convinced now. And if it is a dream, I don’t want to wake up. Ever.” The joy in Ross’s voice held the lingering traces of sorrow, panic, and disbelief. Klaus could sense the same emotions in Clay. He wondered how much his mates suffered during his absence. He’d disappointed them so much, always putting his duty in front of his affection for them. But no longer. Now, he was finally free. Now, he could love them like they deserved. “Ross, Clay,” he began hesitantly. “This is a second chance. Are you willing to start something new with me? You don’t have to give me an answer now. I—” His words were cut off by Clay’s mouth crushing his. Klaus’s eyes widened, but he gladly accepted his mate’s sweet assault. Not one to be passive, he retaliated with all the pent-up passion he’d preserved for Clay all these long years. When their mouths separated, they were both breathing hard. “We may have issues,” Clay said, “but we’ll surpass them, together. No more hesitation, no more guilt.” A distant voice inside Klaus’s head made him wonder if Clay was truly willing to forgive him, just like that. He pushed the doubts away,

 

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focusing on the moment. Yes, he’d just been given another chance, and he’d take advantage of it. He took Clay’s hand then Ross’s and pulled his mates toward the bedroom. His heart thundered as if he were a virgin before the wedding night. He feared they would refuse him, but they didn’t. Instead, the trip to the sleeping quarters turned into a journey of sensuality, as they proceeded to remove each other’s clothing. By the time they reached the bedroom, a trail of shirts, pants and jackets lay behind them while they greedily explored naked skin. Klaus pushed Ross on the mattress and pounced on top of the young man. He didn’t go any further, though. He wanted to make sure Ross was ready for this. “Are you sure?” he asked his mate. Ross nodded. “Like you said, you and I knew each other before we actually met. I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life.” Klaus didn’t hesitate again. He pressed his mouth to Ross’s, coaxing his mate’s lips to part. By his side, Clay joined them on the bed. His hands trailed over Klaus’s naked back, sending shivers down his spine. “Go ahead,” Clay whispered. “Touch him. Touch us.” Following his mate’s instructions, Klaus allowed himself to intensify the kiss. He ravaged Ross’s delicious mouth, taking in the addicting taste of his mate. Ross’s answering passion humbled and astonished him, at the same fueling his desire. He’d have liked to take more time just enjoying Ross’s flavor, but his cock throbbed, demanding a full union with his two mates. It was long overdue, and something both his soul and his body had yearned for a long time. Klaus got off Ross, intending to prepare the young man for intercourse. He just went with the flow, allowing his passion to lead his touches. Even if he’d never taken Ross to his bed, he instinctively knew what his mate might like, and he looked forward to finding everything out in detail.

 

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To his surprise, Ross pushed him down, switching their positions on the bed. Before Klaus could figure out what was going on, Ross lowered his mouth over Klaus’s cock. Wet heat engulfed Klaus’s dick, and he moaned, the bliss casting away all his lingering misgivings. Clay’s beautiful face appeared in his line of sight. “We’ll take care of you. It’ll be the three of us together from now on. So just relax and enjoy.” Whatever reply Klaus might have been able to muster was swallowed by Clay’s kiss. Their tongues entangled in a dance of passion that went to Klaus’s head like high-class Riesling. Clay’s hands traveled over his chest and stopped next to Klaus’s nipples. When his mate’s fingernails scraped over the tender buds, a whirlpool of sensations assaulted him from several directions. The hot ecstasy of the suction, the light teasing pain against his nipples, the delicious taste of Clay’s lips on his, all of it converged and conspired to drive him crazy. At first, Ross’s motions remained teasing, almost hesitant. He moved his head up and down Klaus’s shaft, as if acquainting himself with Klaus’s taste and preferences. Gradually, he began to speed up, taking Klaus’s dick to the root then releasing him in quick, enthusiastic sucks. With his two mates intent on feasting on his body like this, Klaus clung to the bedding and enjoyed the ride. He was close, so close, hovering just on the edge of orgasm. For maybe a moment, Clay disappeared, leaving Klaus puzzled and bereft. With his brain still being sucked out through his cock, he couldn’t find words to ask and he didn’t get the chance anyway. Clay returned and tossed Ross a tube of lubricant. A snap and a click alerted Klaus to his mate’s desires. Ross briefly abandoned his ministration on Klaus’s dick to squirt lube on his fingers. Klaus parted his legs, giving his mate access, and forced his body to relax. He and Wolfram had fucked many times, but this was

 

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nothing like those moments. Just the thought of the coupling to follow drove him wild. To his surprise, Ross didn’t prepare him. Instead, the young man reached behind himself, biting his lip and sighing softly. Klaus couldn’t suppress a groan when he realized what Ross intended. He could almost feel the ghost of Ross’s touch inside him as his mate prepared himself. Clay moved behind Ross, his skilled hands helping Ross along the process. Ross leaned against Clay, his face flushed beautifully in a shade of red that complemented his gorgeous hair. Over Ross’s shoulder, Clay grinned, his eyes heated. “You should see him, Klaus,” he said. “He looks so amazing.” Klaus indeed wanted to see Ross, but his young mate shook his head. “We’ll do this right.” The ghostly touch disappeared as Ross retreated his fingers and positioned his hole over Klaus’s hard cock. He hesitated, sharing a look with Clay, but Clay smiled gently and pecked his mate. Klaus realized Ross had never done this before, not even with Clay, and his heart leaped at the amazing gift he’d been granted. Ross took a deep breath and began to lower his body over Klaus’s dick. Klaus gritted his teeth in a conscious effort not to thrust up. It must’ve been one of the hardest things he’d done in his life. Ross’s channel engulfed him in a tight hold, a velvet-like fist that swallowed him more and more. Klaus could just compare it with the few times he’d shared with Clay. Only, Clay was also here now, his hands wrapped around Ross’s torso, helping their young mate measure his descent to avoid discomfort. At first, Ross showed some difficulties in taking the whole of Klaus’s dick. But at last, his buttocks lay flush against Klaus’s testicles, and he breathed hard as he smiled down at Klaus. He whispered a single word. “Together.” Klaus nodded, and his gesture, while simple, seemed to break a dam inside Ross. Ross pushed up, his ass almost moving off Klaus’s

 

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dick, then thrust back down. He started a savage rhythm, riding Klaus furiously. They fit together so right, so perfect. There was just one single thing missing. In a flash, Klaus pushed Ross off him and positioned Ross on all fours. The motion dislodged the union of their bodies, but as soon as Ross exposed his opening, Klaus thrust back in, hissing as he did so. “Go ahead, fuck his mouth.” Clay instantly obeyed. He rubbed his cock against Ross’s lips. Ross parted them and took Clay’s cock. The ecstasy on Clay’s face almost undid Klaus right there and then. He clung to the remnants of his control, wanting this moment to last. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. When he thought he would not lose it, he opened them again and nodded at Clay. As one, they started a slow pace, fucking Ross slowly, allowing their mate to get used to the sensation of being filled like this. Ross’s moans—even muffled by Clay’s cock—made the entire experience even better. Soon, Klaus found himself unable to keep his resolve. He sped up, aching for more friction, for a deeper penetration. Every time, he aimed for Ross’s prostate, and knew he’d hit the little gland by the increasing pleasure he sensed coming from Ross. But their connection remained dim and the transferred sensations not as intense as they should be. Klaus knew what he needed to do. For so long, he’d hesitated in binding his destiny to Clay’s. He’d done the right thing, given the circumstances at the time, but now, he could at last make things complete between them. His fangs descended of their own accord. As he fucked Ross with abandon, Klaus met Clay’s eyes once again. In that moment, a deeper understanding passed through them, the staccato rhythm bringing both of them so close to climax. No longer able to delay the moment he’d yearned for, Klaus struck. He buried his cock one last time in Ross’s body and embedded his fangs in his mate’s neck.

 

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Ross’s sweet blood filled his mouth, the taste of a drug Klaus could never get tired of. Their connection clicked into place, and through Ross, the bond with Clay became complete as well. Their three souls and bodies became one, soaring in a world of their own, where only they existed and every dream could be achieved. Klaus found his peak, the sensations washing over him in cleansing waves that brought both a nirvana of pleasure and a wealth of spiritual contentment. Ross’s ass tightened around him as his young mate came as well. Through their bond, Klaus sensed Clay orgasm, too. It seemed to last forever, draining him physically and emotionally. He fell on the bed, exhausted, but happier than he’d ever been. He could not believe this was truly happening. He pinched himself, just like Clay did earlier, suspecting this could be, indeed, a dream. After all, just a few days ago—how much time had passed anyway?—he’d been fighting Joseph and dying at the feral’s hands. A person could go crazy thinking about that. His mates must have sensed his change in mood. “It’s okay,” Clay whispered, petting Klaus’s stomach. “You’re with us now.” Klaus nodded and opened his mouth to reply, but a knock stopped him from doing so. He considered ignoring it, but decided it might be important. The energy he sensed coming from there puzzled him. It seemed more than one spirit wolf had come. He’d just find out what the intruders wanted and send them on their way. He swiftly grabbed a robe from the bathroom and went to answer the door. As he cracked it open, he faced a crowd of people, all gaping at him. Shocked, Klaus shut the door in their faces. He’d underestimated their number and wasn’t ready to face them, at least not until he got dressed and decent. Ross came out of the bedroom and sighed. “Well, it seems our time together is over.” Klaus walked to his mate’s side and pecked him. “Only for now, Ross. Only for now.”

 

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He headed out, deciding to meet his head-on, once and for all. But as he opened the door, he found Wolfram at the other side, ushering the other spirit wolves away. Without a word, Wolfram engulfed him in a tight embrace. “Welcome back, my friend,” he said. The Magistrate’s voice sounded thick with emotion, and Klaus hugged him back. Their friendship had always been one of the most important things in his life. It meant the world to him to see Wolfram felt the same. Dietrich and Fritz were also there, a few steps away. They didn’t speak, allowing Wolfram and Klaus their shared moment. “It’s nice to be back,” Klaus answered. Wolfram chuckled and broke away from him. “Indeed. I won’t keep you. You must be exhausted. But once you’re rested, do come and see me. We have a lot to talk about.” Klaus nodded silently. After a final hug, Wolfram and his mates began to walk away. When Klaus returned to his room, he felt so relieved he couldn’t express it in words. His mates waited for him on his couch. A sense of anxiety invaded him, pushing away the warm, fuzzy feelings. “What’s the matter?” he asked them. After a brief moment of silence, Clay answered, “Nothing. It’s just… the Magistrate…” Klaus did not expect Clay to forget about the time they’d lost because of his duty, so he wasn’t surprised by his mate’s reply. “He’s not a threat,” he said. “But maybe we should leave here for a while. It might do us good to take a break and get to know each other.” Ross and Clay nodded enthusiastically. “That’s a great idea. Something just for us.” Klaus smiled. He knew so little of his mates, but he had high hopes. Perhaps this journey would do the trick.

 

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Chapter Seven The day after Klaus’s mysterious resurrection, the entire Den was in turmoil. Clay and Ross found themselves in the unpleasant situation of having to share their mate with dozens of spirit wolves who all came to see if the rumors were true. Klaus’s parents stopped by and left after having done their duty, but that didn’t eliminate the issue. At the same time, the old jealousies still lingered at the forefront of Clay’s mind. Thankfully, Wolfram granted them a reprieve. He practically ordered Clay to abandon the Den and take his mates on a journey, as long as they wanted, and return when they’d settled things out. Truth be told, Clay was thankful for it. Even if the bond now existed between the three of them, the shadow of Klaus’s death couldn’t disappear so easily. They still had so much to deal with, and time away from their families would do them good. His own emotions were in turmoil. He understood jealousy no longer held any importance, but he needed the certainty of a strong connection. The friendship between Klaus and Wolfram would always exist, so Clay had to learn how to deal with it. He did feel bad for leaving his siblings and parents just after he’d returned, but it couldn’t be helped. So after saying their good-byes, they boarded a helicopter that would lead them to their destination. Ross suggested Burma then changed his mind, explaining it occurred to him before Klaus’s resurrection. As such, they were going to the Bahamas instead. Apparently, Klaus invested in a little private island there.

 

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Klaus piloted them there, choosing the absolute discretion of not having another person involved. Throughout the trip, the noise drowned out any possible conversation, so Clay contented himself to watch the sight below him. He’d always loved the ocean. It reminded him of Klaus in a strange way, with that silent, inexorable strength and the potential to unleash such power. Holding Ross by his side helped pass the time, and soon they reached their refuge. From up above, Klaus’s island looked amazing. A wide lagoon divided it in two, the narrow ridge that made the connection between the two parts of the island probably overwhelmed in times of high tide. White beaches shone in the sunlight, as if calling them out to relaxation. Lush vegetation covered most of the remaining terrain, with the west side peaking in high cliffs. Just beneath the outermost cliff, a house stood, protected from the storms by the rocky terrain. Klaus landed the aircraft on a helipad built next to the villa. As they descended from the chopper, he asked, “Well, what do you think so far?” “It’s amazing,” Ross replied. “I love it.” Clay smiled. “I’ll hold my judgment until we get a tour.” “Your wish is my command,” Klaus answered. They weren’t very tired so after leaving their bags in the house and grabbing a quick bite, they left to explore, with Klaus leading the way. The forest began very close to the house, and soon, they found themselves surrounded in a labyrinth of greenery. Animals of all types chirped and screeched around them and insects buzzed, causing a strangely exciting mayhem. Klaus told them all about the island and its history, its fauna and flora. He sounded like a tourist guide, and Clay wondered how many times Klaus had gone exploring by himself. There didn’t seem to be many personal impressions in his explanations. “So what do you think about it?” he asked his mate. Klaus shrugged. “I like it here, but, truth be told, it was an impulse buy. I never got the chance to truly make it a home or scan the area.”

 

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Ross gaped. “Are you sure you can find your way back?” Klaus arched a brow at him. “I’m not that new at it. I’d have never taken you on a tour if I didn’t know the island.” Ross’s face flushed, and he mumbled an, “I’m sorry,” to which Klaus just laughed. “Come on,” he said. “We can reach the beach in no time if we keep a steady pace.” Indeed, Klaus unerringly led them to the beach Ross saw from the helicopter. The close-up view was even more breathtaking. Clay took off his sneakers and started to walk in the direction of the sea. The sand felt warm under his toes, almost like a sensual caress. Clay imagined making love to his mates in the middle of all of this and congratulated himself for packing the lube. Klaus and Ross joined him and they set a blanket on the white sand. “I never saw you as a private island sort of person,” Clay commented when they at last sat down. Klaus took a deep breath of the sea air. “I suppose I’m not or I wasn’t. Never truly had the time to be private.” He gave Clay an unreadable look. “I bought this place shortly after meeting you. I told myself, Klaus, one day, you’ll be able to let go and come here with Clay. Or so I hoped, at least.” He grinned at both Clay and Ross. “It seems my expectations were exceeded.” Another time, Clay might have been irritated at Klaus’s presumptuousness. Now, however, he began to understand he’d never actually been taken for granted. Klaus had hoped, and clung to that hope for ten years, just like Clay did. They were more alike than he’d ever imagined. They lay down, relaxing in the sun and with the sound of the waves tickling their hearing. “You know, I imagined building a family here,” Klaus said at last. “Kids and everything.” “Kids?” Ross repeated. “How would that work?” For the first time, Clay realized Ross didn’t know much about spirit wolf societal structures. “Ah, well, in our world, same-sex couples aren’t unusual, so we adopt a lot. There are children who, for

 

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one reason or another, are orphaned by a young age. Often, one parent dies in hunting expeditions, causing his or her mate to follow. Those children go to loving families.” “Oh,” Ross said. “But isn’t that uncomfortable? I mean, can’t you just use artificial insemination?” Klaus shook his head. “It’s a no-no for us. Spirit wolf females cling to their children a lot. Even the coldest bitches out there—like my mother for example—would refuse to give you their pup in the first years of their life, if only for show. It’s frowned upon to give up a child. After the childhood years pass, it’s almost pointless. The pup would never get attached to you. The orphan ones do get adopted no matter the age, but that’s different. There’s no competition for parental affection.” Klaus’s mentioning of his parents confirmed Clay’s original opinion of them. Thankfully, Ross managed to focus their conversation on the matter at hand. “Wow,” Ross said. “I guess I still have a lot to learn.” Clay smiled at his mate. “There’s plenty of time for it. And who knows? Maybe we will adopt, once we’re ready.” Klaus nodded. Clay could almost hear his mate’s thoughts. The other man wanted to know more about them. He’d already opened up so much, yet Clay and Ross still kept their secrets. “I’d like that,” Ross unexpectedly said. “I was an orphan child, too. I used to pass from foster parent to foster parent, until I finally got adopted. I couldn’t control my telepathy back then, so everyone would cast me away, but the last family decided to use me instead. That’s how Joseph found me.” Ross’s voice trembled as he spoke, and Klaus intervened, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” “Oh, but I want to,” Ross answered. “We can’t let the past linger between us. It would just push us apart eventually. Here goes.” Ross told them of his parents, of meeting Joseph and being kidnapped by him, of the things the feral had forced him to do.

 

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Silence stretched between them as Ross finished his tale. Clay almost resented the fact Joseph was already dead. He wanted to kill the man all over again, to make him pay for Ross’s suffering. “If one day we do adopt, that child will never suffer like you did,” he said, doing his best to sound soothing. Ross offered him a gentle smile. “I know. I’m counting on that.” When his mates didn’t say anything else, Clay decided it was time for him to confess his own past. “I don’t have any sad story. My parents are great. They love me.” “I can hear the ‘but’ even if you haven’t said it,” Klaus answered softly. Clay considered ignoring the gentle prod, but decided against it. “It just seems like they’ll always see me as just a kid, unable to make decisions for himself. They never trust me. I’m just a secondary existence in the shadow of my brothers.” Clay shook himself. “Now I’m just feeling sorry for myself. We shouldn’t be wasting such a beautiful afternoon with such talk.” “It’s not time wasted,” Klaus replied. “We’re getting to know each other, and our pasts are a part of us. But you’re right. We should take things slow. Enough talk for now.” Even if Klaus’s words granted them a reprieve from the serious conversation, Clay’s heart remained in turmoil. He didn’t have any doubts about being with his mates, but everything was happening so fast. After living for ten years with the suspicion he’d never get a mate, he’d found Ross, seen Klaus die then come to life, and at last completed their bond in a very short expanse of time. Klaus rolled over him, the other man’s body a pleasant weight on Clay. “Stop thinking so much,” Klaus whispered. “We have all the time in the world, remember?” Clay nodded, Klaus’s scent already beginning to dissipate the doubts in his mind. His mate’s talented hands slowly got rid of Clay’s clothes. As Klaus pressed butterfly-light kisses over every inch of skin he exposed, Clay tried to remove the material shielding Klaus

 

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from him. His hands trembled, though, and his efforts failed. Thankfully, Ross was there to help. Soon, they were all naked on the blanket, Clay still writhing under Klaus. Klaus pressed his lips to Clay’s, and Clay wrapped his arms around his mate’s neck to bring them even closer. He needed more of Klaus’s taste, much more, always more. They feasted on each other with greed, never getting enough, only parting due to their need to breathe. For a few moments, they stared into each other’s eyes, until, at last, Klaus grinned wickedly. Clay noticed Ross tossing their mate the lube. “Roll over, love,” Klaus said. Clay obeyed, exposing his naked ass to his mate. He unwillingly trembled, very aware of how wanton he must look in this position. “Stand still, love,” Klaus murmured. “We don’t want the sand to get any place nasty,” The teasing tone did wonders to calm Clay down. He didn’t even know why he felt so nervous. Well, he did have a suspicion about it. All the times they’d made love, they’d been under pressure from everyone else. For crying out loud, even when they’d mated, the crowd of gawking spirit wolves interrupted their afterglow. But they were, finally, alone, here on this island where no one could disturb them. Whatever happened between them today would be special. A slick finger invaded Clay’s backside, and his coherence began to vanish. He bit his lip and pushed back against the digit, eager for more. He’d missed this so much. Klaus always knew how to touch him, how to make him experience the most incredible orgasms. Klaus added another finger, using plenty of lube to stretch Clay’s hole. He thrust the digits in and out of Clay’s body, crooking them just so. In the process, he relentlessly rubbed Clay’s special spot, making shocks of pleasure shoot through him. Clay surrendered to his mate’s ministrations. He did not know what Klaus planned, but he trusted the other man. It came like

 

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something of a shock, but Clay accepted it openly. Love meant trust, affection, and passion, and Clay experienced it all. Klaus’s strong husky voice rang out in his ears. “Come here, Ross,” the other man said. Clay felt his other mate move on the blanket, until both Ross and Klaus waited behind him. Clay’s cock throbbed in anticipation of what would follow. His hole ached to be full of cock and his body demanded to be possessed. “Clay loves to be fucked,” Klaus whispered to Ross. “What say we give him the ride of his life?” Klaus removed his fingers and pressed his dick to Clay’s opening. Slowly, he pushed inside, filling Clay to the brink. “Feel good, love?” Through some miracle, Clay managed to speak. “Y–Yes. Amazing.” “We’ll make you feel even better.” Klaus pulled out of him and in the next moment, another cock entered Clay. He gasped, realizing it was Ross. Ross and he had never tried this before, but it felt amazing, just as good as it did with Klaus, but different somehow. Ross’s dick rubbed the inner walls of his passage in a faster, more erratic motion. When Ross pulled out, Klaus thrust in so quickly that Clay was never without a cock inside him. Clay had never felt like this in his entire life. Over and over, they fucked him, relentless, never even giving a moment to breathe. Every nerve sizzled with sexual energy, the symphony of his mates’ motions so amazing it almost hurt. Through their connection, his pleasure tripled. It seemed as if his cock slid against that of both his mates. Fucking, being fucked, all the delicious friction and sensations made Clay’s body sing. With Ross and Klaus claiming him with such perfection, Clay couldn’t hold on for very long. He tried to hold his orgasm back, but he was close, so very close. He didn’t even have to touch himself. It would have been impossible anyway, since he couldn’t even hold

 

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himself upright. His arms felt like jelly, and he relied on strength of Klaus’s support to hold him up. Just when he thought it couldn’t get any better, Klaus sank his fangs into his neck. Clay’s vision dimmed, the sensations too extreme for him to withstand. When his climax came, it swallowed him whole, sweeping over him like a tidal wave that crashed through every limit of consciousness and desire. His mates followed him and exploded as well, their hot cum filling his passage. For a little while, Clay floated into pleasant oblivion, the bliss of the afterglow, unable to escape. As the cloud of pleasure began to dissipate, he found himself lying on the blanket, cuddled next to his mate. A warm breeze caressed his naked skin and the sun shone brightly on the cloudless sky. In that moment, there was only one thought passing through Clay’s mind. Surrounded by nature and the pure essence of sex, he told himself, “This is perfection.”

 

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Epilogue A few months later Klaus mentally sighed as yet another spirit wolf gaped at him, making a very adequate impersonation of a fish. He’d expected this reaction, of course, but he and his mates returned from the island almost a week ago. The staff of the Den should’ve gotten used to him by now. They hadn’t. Ignoring his awed subordinate, Klaus went on with his intended task. Many things happened in their absence, and Klaus was only now catching up to everything. In the aftermath of Joseph’s death, Dietrich apparently found a heavy deposit of a “counter-serum,” the same one Joseph intended to use to create his army of ferals. It had all been destroyed, with the exception of one vial that lay under lock and key in the labs at the Den. Andrew Blunt was studying the formula, although these days, he seemed too busy concocting a new, better serum for the spirit wolves themselves. For Klaus’s part, he’d been reinstated as the Magistrate’s secretary on a temporary basis, until another competent person could be found—or rather, until Fritz and Dietrich got used to it and could take over. Personally, Klaus didn’t mind. After so many years spent here, he’d have felt useless without having something to do. He’d almost refused the position, fearing his mates would be offended. On the contrary, Ross and Clay accepted his decision and encouraged it. Their understanding of each other had deeply increased throughout the past few months.

 

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Smiling, Klaus knocked at the door of his leader’s office. “Enter,” a slightly breathless voice replied. Klaus cracked the door opened and hid a smile when he saw Fritz and Dietrich present. Sometimes, even the Magistrate needed a break, but at this rate, Wolfram’s mates would never learn the intricacies of spirit wolf bureaucracy. “I thought you two were in the archives,” he said in a halfamused, half-chastising tone. He didn’t mean anything by it, and the two men grinned at him. “We figured we needed to give our neurons a few moments of peace.” The awkwardness had disappeared among the three of them, even if old jealousies did occasionally resurface. Klaus liked the two men, though, and he considered them his friends. “Okay, okay,” he replied. “I’m not such an evil tutor to keep mates apart. Besides, the Magistrate can always fire me if I get too harsh.” Wolfram laughed. “Like that would ever happen.” His expression sobered when he saw the report in Klaus’s hand. “What do you have there?” “The list with the guests tonight. So you truly want to go through with this?” Wolfram nodded. “The Spirit Mother is right. This war lasted for too long. We need to focus our efforts in a different direction.” “But peace with ferals?” Klaus couldn’t help his skepticism. After all, he’d been killed by one. He was getting over the experience, but the memory still bothered him. And he’d been lucky. Most of those who died in the line of duty didn’t come back for decades or centuries. Even then, reincarnation was tricky. “I’m not sure our pack will like the idea.” “I’m not so fond of it myself,” Dietrich grumbled. Wolfram sighed and got up. “I know. It will be hard. But we have to try.” He gestured them to the window. Outside, Klaus could see children, huddled together quietly.

 

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“Some of them will go to good families, but others won’t be so lucky. And thinking back, do we truly know anything about the ferals? Have we ever bothered to learn the truth about them? Nothing is black and white in this world.” Klaus agreed with that assessment. In the end, his mate had been bitten by a feral, too. They’d succeeded in saving him, but how many other innocent humans were hunted because of a disease they could not control? He smiled at Wolfram. “Well, My Lord, I will do my best to assist you.” Wolfram beamed back. “Thank you, my friend.” Klaus left the documents on the desk and abandoned the office. He needed to prepare for the meeting tonight, too, but first, he wanted to see his mates. He’d spotted them watching over the children in the yard. This would be a difficult meeting for them. Those who’d heard of Ross’s involvement with Joseph did not like him, or Clay, for busting Ross out of his parents’ compound. In a few minutes, he reached his mates and joined them in the contemplation of the silent children. “It’s so sad,” Ross said. “Yes, it is. That’s why Wolfram wants to put an end to it. But at the same time, it will make things difficult for him. Some have lost sons and daughters to the ferals. They won’t take this lightly.” Clay sighed. “What do you think will happen, Klaus?” Klaus looked at the blue, cloudless sky above them. “What I think… It’s hard to say, but I do see a future when families will raise their children together. Genetics is progressing so fast, and soon, same sex couples might not even need to adopt. But most importantly, imagine one day when we won’t have to worry about waking up to a new attack, to our friends, families and acquaintances dead. I want to fight to achieve this dream.” Clay nodded. His gaze went from the children to several approaching aircrafts. “Let’s hope they want to fight for it, too.”

 

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**** That night The throne room was filled with people. Spirit wolves of all ages and ethnicities had come to answer their Magistrate’s call. Clay could practically smell the excitement, hear it in the buzzing of the conversations around him. The rumor mill already speculated on tonight’s announcement. Did Joseph return? Did something happen to Klaus? Did they reach a breakthrough in the war with the ferals? Or maybe the Spirit Mother appeared once again. To Clay’s knowledge, none of those ideas were completely correct. He couldn’t be sure as to what Wolfram planned, since not even Klaus was privy to all of it. At the same time, Clay did have a certainty. After tonight, their society would never be the same again. He waited with Ross in silence, too nervous to even speak. Finally, Wolfram made his appearance, with his mates trailing behind him. After greeting everyone, he passed straight to the matter at hand. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I summoned you all here. The truth is, the war with the ferals is straining our pack greatly. We’ve lost a lot of people in the past years, friends of all of us. For that reason, I intend to end the war. We’re heading toward peace with the ferals.” Silence fell over the room, until, finally, someone found the courage to ask, “Peace, My Lord? But—” A pointed gaze from Wolfram stopped the talking spirit wolf. “The hunters will be supplied with different, more modern weapons. From now on, the priority is to take the ferals alive. Peace cannot be built in one day, so we will start by showing our goodwill. Doctor Andrew Blunt and his son have prepared a new serum for that purpose. More details will be given to the hunters.” The spirit wolves seemed increasingly restless, but Wolfram offered them a smile. “This is not an end. It is a new beginning. We

 

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must look forward to a future when we will no longer fear for our children and our mates. All of us here have lost loved ones, friends, and family. Some have been luckier than others and gained them back. But don’t you wish to build a new life, so that you never have to give them up again?” As Wolfram spoke, the spirit wolves seemed to be more and more enthusiastic about the idea. It probably helped that they trusted Wolfram to lead them. Besides, Wolfram was their Magistrate, their Alpha. They couldn’t exactly say “no”. On the whole, Clay thought the reunion could’ve gone much worse. When Wolfram finished his speech, all those present applauded. A couple of spirit wolves still appeared to be reluctant, but Clay surmised it wouldn’t be so easy to convince everyone. With the noise dying down, Klaus joined them at last. “They took it quite well,” he whispered. Ross nodded. “Better than I expected.” Klaus pulled them out of the throne room, making Clay chuckle. “Where are we going?” Klaus grinned at them. “Taking a break. Starting tomorrow, we’ll have to build a whole new world. But for now, let’s just enjoyed the moment.” Clay gladly went with his mate. He distantly remembered the words Joseph told them once. Star-crossed mates. No, they were no longer star-crossed, or separated. Joseph’s shadow didn’t exist between them anymore. Now, whatever came their way, they’d face it together, united, the three of them forever.

THE END WWW.SCARLETHYACINTH.WEBS.COM

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR A native Romanian, Scarlet was born in 1986 and grew up an avid fan of Karl May and Jules Verne, reading fantasy stories and adventure. Later, when she was out of fantasy stories to read, she delved into her mother’s collection of books and, of course, stumbled onto romance. As a writer though, Scarlet Hyacinth was born one sunny summer day, when a dear friend of hers—the same friend who introduced her to GLBT fiction—proposed they start writing a story of their own. As it turns out, the two friends never did finish that particular story, but Scarlet discovered she had a knack for writing and ended up starting to write individually. And so, between working on her dissertation, studying for exams, and reading yaoi manga, she started writing the Kaldor Saga. Along the way, Scarlet met a lot of wonderful people who supported her, and in the end, she found her story a home and, in the process, fulfilled a beautiful dream.

 

 

Also by Scarlet Hyacinth Siren Classic ManLove: Kaldor Saga 1: Enraptured Siren Classic ManLove: Kaldor Saga 2: Over the Edge Siren Classic ManLove: Kaldor Saga 3: Destinies in Darkness, Part 1 Siren Classic ManLove: Kaldor Saga 3: Destinies in Darkness, Part 2 Siren Classic ManLove: Kaldor Saga 4: Mending Shattered Souls Ménage Amour ManLove: The Three Horsemen of the Black Forest Siren Allure ManLove: Truth and Deception Siren Classic ManLove: Sequel to Truth and Deception: Reborn Siren Classic ManLove: Deadly Mates 1: Moon’s Sweet Poison Siren Classic ManLove: Deadly Mates 2: Wings of Moonlight Ménage Amour ManLove: Deadly Mates 3: Spell of the Predator’s Moon Ménage Amour ManLove: Deadly Mates 4: Dragon’s Bloodmoon Ménage Amour ManLove: Fire of the Four Seasons Ménage Amour ManLove: Spirit Wolves 1: A Mate Beyond Their Reach Ménage Amour ManLove: Spirit Wolves 2: Mates in Life and Death Ménage Amour ManLove: Spirit Wolves 3: Two Mates For A Magistrate Ménage Amour ManLove: Spirit Wolves 4: Three Mates, One Destiny

Available at BOOKSTRAND.COM

 

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