Evermore (2 page)

“Camille.”

The world fell black again.

“It doesn’t matter whose baby it is.”

Homer’s voice brought her back from the darkness. This time she wasn’t in a truck, she lay on a bed, on sheets which felt clean, and she knew she wasn’t alone in a room with him. There were folks with him. Five individual scents she could make out. One female. Three male. And Homer.

“Homer…”

“My Alpha.” Homer’s tone sounded fierce. She couldn’t imagine ever arguing with him if he spoke to her in such a direct manner. “With all respect, it’s my baby. My mate is carrying it. As far as I’m concerned, whoever is inside of her is my son or daughter. My pup.”

“She might have a husband.” The female spoke before she pressed something cold on Camille’s forehead. “With the expectation of finding mates a thing of the past, werewolves are pairing off for protection.”

“Well if she had a husband, he was nowhere to be found when she needed him. And damn it, mate trumps husband. I don’t care if she has one or not. I’ll go find him and he can relinquish his rights to her and the baby or I’ll challenge him to a death match.”

“You don’t even know the circumstances yet.” The woman again. “Maybe don’t be so hasty to rush in and kill.”

Camille decided it was time to let herself speak up. She’d had enough of other people deciding her life, and she’d be damned if these strangers were going to make decisions in regards to her and her unborn baby without so much as asking her opinion.

She hadn’t worked so hard to free herself from Dresden to fall into another, possibly worse situation. Camille had promised her baby she’d make them safe and she planned on delivering on her word.

If she could stay alive long enough to see it happen.

No one was going to tell her what to do anymore.

“Stop.” She sat up, rubbing at her eyes because they burned. “Please. I appreciate you taking care of me, whoever you all are, but please don’t talk about me like I’m not here.”

The woman, who had blond hair and blue eyes, grinned before she stood, rising from the corner of the bed where Camille lay. “Backbone. I like it.”

“Ah…thanks?” Camille settled into the discomfort being stared at by four strangers caused. She’d been embarrassed before and, unfortunately, woken up in worse circumstances too.

“What do you remember?” Homer stepped closer to and she let herself breathe in him. His scent still moved her as it had on the street. Then, she’d been too terrified, too hot, too sure of her own upcoming rape and death to really roll around in the sensation of having a mate. Being near Homer made her mouth water with want. Yet, she knew better than to give in to the need or even to vocalize it until she knew more.

Just because he was her mate didn’t necessarily make him a good man. There were so few left after the war. She wasn’t going to tie herself to a drug addict, murderer, or any other lunatic simply to complete the need.

“I remember you. How you saved me.” She owed him thanks. “I do appreciate you stepping in.”

“How could I not?”

Homer was beautiful to regard. He had a freshness about him, a sincerity in his blue eyes she hadn’t seen since her childhood, if then. She couldn’t really remember pre-war times, having only been four when the fighting with the dragons began. In any case, Homer defined the world beautiful. He could have been carved out of stone. And now he’d been saddled with her and all of her problems. If she were Homer, she’d run the other way.

Her mother used to muse about mating, reminiscing about better times, pack life, and alpha males who cared for and loved their females. She didn’t imagine her current situation fell into anyone’s definition of ideal.

But if those things had been real, they were no longer. Homer’s appearance of goodness could disguise a true terror beneath. She sniffed the air. His scent didn’t speak of nasty intentions although with all the drugs werewolves used she’d gotten really bad at telling.

“Most would have left me there to die.” She looked at her hands. “I wasn’t really your problem.”

Homer’s eyes widened. “You’re my mate. You’ll always be mine to keep, mine to cherish.”

“Sweet words.” Yet, only words. Males could pretend for a long time before they showed their true colors. Homer had killed her attackers, and for his actions she’d be forever grateful, but he’d done so with a swiftness which spoke of experience in death. Was that only from the war? Or did he end lives on a regular basis?

The woman cleared her throat, interrupting them. “So you remember Homer. That’s good. You have an infection your body is trying to fight. I’ve given you some medicine, which should help. If you could shift it would go a long way to help, but obviously given the pregnancy that’s not possible. We’ll do the best we can in the meantime. I’m Tatyana. This is Dougal and Robbie Owens. Robbie is my mate and the Alpha of our pack.”

“There are no more packs.” The war movement had banished them. They needed everyone loyal to the cause, not their individual packs or Alphas so they’d been forcibly disbanded. Her father had refused to step down and the generals had killed him for it. Or so her mother had said. All Camille could remember was the shouting and the fire.

She shook her head, pushing away the memory.

“We reformed after the war. We’re close knit, secretive.” Dougal answered. He was tall like Robbie, the apparent Alpha. They were probably brothers if the shape of their faces and the similarity in their scent was any indication. And usually it was. Dougal was also missing a hand and part of his arm. Post-war, Camille had seen so many amputees the sight didn’t even startle her anymore. He must have been strong to survive his injury and she would do him the courtesy of not staring. “We don’t let uninvited people onto our pack lands. But you’re Homer’s. So you get to be here.”

She nodded, things becoming clear to her very fast. “You’re the enforcer.”

Robbie laughed, catching her attention. He held her stare, the power of his wolf insisting she keep her eyes down. “He’s never taken the title officially. I think what we’ll call Dougal overprotective for now. The little one here is not going to hurt me. And she’s Homer’s mate. So she stays. You can look at me, Camille.” Given his permission, she did as he instructed. He really was an Alpha. She’d never thought to see one again. But only someone with that much authority could have such control over her wolf considering she’d never been particularly submissive. “What is your last name?”

No one had asked her in so long. She’d been plain Camille or Dresden’s woman. Her last name? Would it mean anything to anyone anymore? “Kendrick. I’m Camille Kendrick.”

Robbie blinked rapidly and she saw the second it dawned on him, thus answering her unasked question. Yes, he knew who her father had been. “The Alpha who wouldn’t submit.”

She nodded. “He was not a traitor. Despite what anyone says.” Although the truth was she’d been four when the whole mess had gone down. With only her mother’s word for the specifics, Camille really didn’t know what her father done or why he had made the decisions he had. Her mother’s own honor had also been called into question.

“Someone fill me in.” Homer’s voice pulled her back to him. His facial features had changed in the minute she’d been talking to Robbie and Dougal. Gone was the soft and in its place the hard line of a man not happy being left out of the loop. What did Homer do when he got angry? How did he punish those who made him mad? She placed her hand over her belly. He’d killed two men threatening her because she was his mate.

Robbie sucked in a loud breath. “I think we’re going to leave the two of you to get to know each other better. I would like to know who the father of that child is. I’ll leave you to tell me, Homer. Camille, we all have history. Even your even-tempered mate there. You’re welcome here. Homer is not my blood but he is my brother.”

Goosebumps broke out on her skin and she rubbed them away. How long had it been since she’d heard anyone express any kind of loyalty to anything let alone another werewolf? Was it possible? Could she have miraculously stumbled into a functioning pack? And what would they do when she told them the worst thing about her wasn’t her accused father but the identity of the male who gave her the baby in her belly?

Dougal followed Robbie out the door. Tatyana paused before she left. “Homer, ten minutes I’m coming back in to give her more medicine, which will make her tired. Whatever you need to say right now, do it fast.”

Alone with Homer and not feeling out of her mind with fever, Camille had to look down again. Robbie was Alpha but there was no question Homer could own her wolf if he wanted to.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He tapped at her chin. “Ever. Look up. Please.”

Camille let herself do as he asked. She hadn’t missed the
please
. Hearing manners was…charming and she smiled at him. “How did you know I worried you would?”

Homer sat on the side of her bed, taking her hand in his own. She was so much darker skin toned than he. His skin was pale, although the pads of his fingers were rough, belaying any sense she might have gotten of his being delicate. The male who touched her had worked with his fingers, survived a war, and killed her attackers. She needed to remember who she dealt with and not get romantic notions which might get her killed.

“I have an excellent nose. During the war, I was part of a special group, an elite team, we learned how to decipher thought.” He paused to find clarification,”—or at least strong emotions—better than most werewolves. I don’t know what your inner dialogue was, that’s impossible. I do know your anxiety levels spiked when I asked my question and your scent changed, speaking of fear. I then deduced you were most likely afraid of violence having just been through what you did. Was I correct?”

She swallowed. Watching his lips while he spoke could become a fascination. The mating urge was strong. She’d only met him and they didn’t live in a time when she could simply decide to give into his proximity.
Control yourself, Camille
.

“I can’t smell quite so well. I know you’re my mate. You remind me of the woods. I can scent fear. Anger. Lust. But only generally. I’m never going to be able to gauge your thoughts.”

“Good. There’s no reason you should be able to. I’m only capable of it because of my training. Robbie can do it too. That’s why he left so I could talk to you, make you see I’m not a threat to you. Although I can see after the way I killed the men in the street you might think otherwise. And I don’t read minds, Camille. Even if I get a sense of something I’ll try my best to be the wolf my mother raised and leave your private thoughts as your own. You didn’t answer my question. I’m going to assume that was on purpose and I’m not the type to force an answer, not from you anyway.” He smoothed his finger over her knuckle and her mouth went dry. “Are you married to the baby’s father?”

Homer had rescued her, brought her home, given her medicine and attention. She wouldn’t lie. Not unless she had to. “He never married me. He told me he would care for me. But we knew we weren’t mates. He wanted a child, I was a good choice because my age and health were still on track. I was starving. I made a bad decision. He turned out to be violent and not in the way you were when you saved me. I mean in other ways.” She shuddered at the memory. Being tied to the bed and whipped had been the last straw. “When I could run, I did. That’s when you found me.”

For a split second, Homer’s wolf showed in his eyes before it disappeared. “Do you know where this male is?”

“I do.” She let go of his hand and touched the side of his face. Foolish since she wanted distance yet she couldn’t control the impulse. “Are you not an Alpha? What you did, pulling it back, that’s strength.”

“You saw my wolf.” He sucked in a loud breath. “Of course you did. I lost control. I apologize.” Homer pressed his hand over where hers still stayed on his face. It should be awkward how they touched only it wasn’t.

She shook her head. “I don’t want an apology. You didn’t frighten me. I’ve never seen anyone gain control so fast before.”

“In another world I might have been Alpha. My father was—as I gather yours was too?—but I’m not. I follow Robbie. I always will and my wolf is happy to do so. That doesn’t mean I can’t protect you. Where is this male who harmed you? I’ll get rid of him.”

“Don’t.” She whispered the word. “I won’t make you a killer like that. He doesn’t know I’m here. Likely, he never will. I don’t belong to him.”

Homer dropped her hand, but only for a second before he touched her belly. Beneath his fingers, the baby kicked and he smiled. “If he comes for you. For either of you. I won’t hesitate.”

“You’re going to be very intense aren’t you?”

Whatever he would have said in response, she didn’t get to hear as Tatyana returned with her medicine and Homer stopped speaking. The needle in her arm pinched and within seconds she felt drowsy. Her eyelids became heavy, like an outside force wanted them to close.

“I’m going to stay here.” Homer laced their fingers again. “You’ll see me when you wake.”

Chapter Two

Homer sat next to his mate while she dozed in the sun. She looked younger in sleep, the anxiety which plagued her when she was awake missing from her beautiful face. Over the last two weeks Homer had learned some things about Camille Kendrick, and yet a great deal of who his mate was remained a mystery to him. Dougal thought he should push, Devon though he should give her space, and Robbie kept advising him to simply do as his instincts demanded.

Trouble was, depending on the moment, Homer wanted to do all three simultaneously. Tatyana would soon start to lessen the drugs in Camille’s system. She’d probably be less tired then, but with somewhere around eight weeks left in her pregnancy she might still need to nap in the middle of the day.

Her eyelids fluttered open and she grinned at him before she closed them again. Homer smiled to himself. She wasn’t really awake yet.

Camille was afraid, but at least over the last two weeks she no longer seemed to direct any of her fear towards him. If she would simply tell him the name of the man who hurt her she would no longer have to worry about him at all. Homer would take care of the bastard and then he and Camille could discover their life together. She’d stubbornly refused to give up the baby’s father’s name. He also didn’t know any more about who her father was and since he had no intention of hearing about her past from anyone but his mate, he waited.