Lone Wolf Pack 06 - A Future for His Werewolf Warrior (15 page)

The light of the bond kept Mathias from losing himself into the beast. He pressed his now monstrous hands to his lover's chest and focused on healing Ward. It wasn't easy, since he had to force the bullet out too, and this form wasn't conducive to harmonious use of the healing arts. He did it nonetheless, and shockingly the humans allowed it.

The moment Ward's wound stopped bleeding, Mathias looked up at his lover's face. Ward was staring at him, eyes wide with disbelief and horror. Mathias recoiled. Knowing that he was a monster didn't make it any easier to accept when Ward realized it too.

He opened his mouth in a vain attempt to find his voice, but he couldn't even try to utter the phrase. A shock of electricity hit him in the back, and he convulsed, falling to the ground, the intensity too much to contain even for a werewolf.

A piercing unbearable sound exploded all around, and Mathias howled, covering his ears, trying to mute it. Something fell over him, a net of sorts, and Mathias couldn't fight it. There was too much of it—the sound, the electricity, and then silver, digging into him with unerring precision.

Maybe he'd have tried to free himself, but the image of Ward's horrified eyes lingered in his mind, freezing his muscles. It was a pain that kept him from succumbing to his instincts, to the wolf-man.

As it turned out, he didn't have the luxury to lose himself in that agony. "Excellent," the leader of the group said. "Take the mate. We'll be able to use him in case our new pet forgets who his owner is."

One of the other men reached for Ward, and everything shattered. No sound, no shock, no metal was strong enough. He was back on his feet, shrugging off the nets, tearing out throats, ravaging flesh. He was too fast, too much, too strong—even for himself, let alone for the humans.

It was over before he could even think about what he was doing. Ward's attackers didn't get the chance to use their weapons again. Hands that had reached for guns lay on the grass, separated from the bodies of their owners. There was blood everywhere, on the ground, on his fur, and on Ward. And at the end, everything was silent.

Even if Mathias could have spoken, he didn't think he'd have found any words. He collapsed on the grass like a puppet with his strings cut. Trembling, he tried to push back the wolf-man. He had to shift back, had to turn into his human form so that he could check on Ward, explain everything, make sure his mate understood.

The beast refused to be banished. The excruciating process was exactly the same, like a door that wouldn't budge even when it had burst open once. Mathias howled in maddened denial. No. It couldn't be. He couldn't be stuck like this, stuck in a shape Ward could never love.

Even as the thought processed, a wave of warmth flooded him, chasing away the panic. Ward dropped down next to him on the grass, his presence stronger than Mathias's fear and self-disgust. "Hey. Look at me. Look at me."

Ward's soft hands cupped his cheeks—or what would have been his cheeks if he'd been human. Those soft fingers caressed his snout, as if Ward didn't care about the blood staining his jaw. Hypnotized by Ward's voice, Mathias met Ward's gaze, half expecting to see the horror again.

Much to his shock, Ward smiled, his eyes glinting with tears of relief. "There you are. There you are. You're here."

Ward's arms came around Mathias, hugging him tightly. Mathias held on as carefully as possible, wary of not startling his mate. "It's okay," Ward whispered. "You're no monster. You're still my Mathias, and you're beautiful."

Mathias would have deemed the words a white lie meant to soothe his wounded heart, but suddenly, their bond glowed with an onslaught of emotion. Mathias felt Ward's terror—his fear at witnessing Mathias's pain. The transformation had hurt them both, but Ward didn't fear him. It was all in the color, in the gold of the bond and of Mathias's eyes—the same gold Mathias could see in their shared consciousness, and somewhere deeper, within the third member of their little family.

When he stirred from his strange trance, he was once again in his human form. Ward must have felt it too, because he released a soft, breathless sob. "Wow... That was really something."

"Yes, it was," Mathias replied.

He would have probably compared it to what they'd experienced during sex, but they were both still covered in blood, and Vera's dead body still lay a few feet away from them. To top it off, Mathias became aware of a few other people who hadn't been there before.

Dean Simmons took a tentative step forward, looking around and meeting Mathias's gaze in a mix of shock and relief. "Well... I get the feeling I was really lucky at the Gathering."

For all his words, he didn't stop Will when the human approached Mathias. To be fair, Will kept some distance between them, likely realizing that Mathias didn't quite have a good enough grip on his wolf and his composure.

"Are you okay?" the human asked.

"No," Mathias replied, "we're not. But... We will be."

"So this is it? You're going to just bury the whole thing and hide the truth from everyone?"

Teresa scowled at Ward, but he was too tired to get angry with her. "Would you rather tell all your friends that she killed your husband and tried to do the same to both of us because she was in love with me?"

Teresa didn't reply, so Ward reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers. "I know this isn't easy, but you have a child to worry about. Vera and Peter are both gone. The best thing we can do is start over."

Thankfully, his sister must have agreed with that, because after a brief moment of hesitation, she nodded. "You're right. It's just... hard to accept."

She had no idea, and still didn't realize exactly what had happened. The Lone Wolf Pack had quickly swept in to do damage control. Erdi was apparently quite good at that, and he had mysterious contacts who could help them handle the eviscerated bodies. The pack had also been the one to help all of them clean up and eliminate the traces of Mathias's involvement in the battle.

Peter and Vera were a different story, which was why Ward had decided to convince Teresa—the only other person who knew about it—to keep the truth from everyone. If not for her, the Lone Wolf Pack could have made sure the bodies were never found, but Teresa would have never agreed with that, so Ward hadn't even suggested it. They'd settled on reporting the murder of the two without mentioning the fact that Vera had been the one to kill Peter—or in fact, that Vera had ever kidnapped either of them.

It was a good thing that Teresa still cared about what people thought, because telling human authorities about everything that had happened would have made hiding the truth at least ten times more difficult. "I'll do it," Teresa said, "for my baby."

She pressed a hand to her stomach and Ward felt a pang of anxiety. He barely managed to keep himself from mimicking the gesture. Mathias had assured him their baby was fine, but it wasn't that easy to get over the episode.

It took forever for everything to be dealt with. Between conversations with the local authorities and his recurring memories of earlier events, he had trouble keeping himself from collapsing into a sobbing heap. It was only Mathias's presence and the bond they shared that kept him from succumbing to his shock and grief.

Finally, that evening, Ward and Mathias made their way home. They'd left Teresa in Willow Cove, under the careful watch of Erdi, and with the company of Gavin's mother, Alicia. Their parents would be arriving the next day to make funeral arrangements for both Peter and Vera.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Lone Wolf Pack had retreated to their own home since they still had two newborns to worry about. Ward was happy they'd helped for as long as they had—their affection meant a lot—but now he needed some time alone with his mate.

He should have probably supported Teresa more, but he simply couldn't take it any longer. The moment they entered the house, Ward made a beeline for the couch and collapsed on the soft pillows, physically and emotionally exhausted.

Mathias joined him and Ward instinctively curled against his mate, setting his head down on Mathias's thigh. His lover caressed his hair so softly, with an almost excruciating gentleness. Those same hands had torn people apart mere hours earlier, but Ward only found comfort in them, and in their strength.

Mathias's touch broke through the sketchy barriers that had been keeping Ward's pain at bay. He allowed himself to mourn, and as his tears fell, soaking the material of Mathias's pants, he was torn between a million conflicting emotions.

Vera's death. Mathias's secret. The pregnancy. How was he supposed to handle it all? He'd lost a dear friend, in more than one way, but he'd also realized he carried a new life inside himself, and that was beautiful, if scary.

Mathias didn't try to shush him, and instead let him cry, his caresses exorcising Ward's chaotic feelings. Finally, when Ward's sobs died down, Mathias murmured, "I'm sorry, Ward. I'm so sorry."

Ward wiped his eyes and stole a glance at his mate. "What for? It wasn't your fault."

"It was." Mathias's jaw tightened. "You were targeted because of what I am. Vera became involved in all of this because of what I am. I should have never—"

The self-loathing Ward had sensed earlier came back with a vengeance, polluting their bond. Ward got up and grabbed Mathias's wrists. "Stop. Vera made her own choices, and I don't blame you for what happened. I don't even understand why they wanted you to begin with."

"It's that... other form. I think that there's been some restlessness among the humans, and I suspect they're preparing for a more widespread confrontation. The wolf-man is very unusual, very powerful, and very dangerous. It would have made for a lethal weapon."

Ward crawled into his mate's lap, shamelessly exploiting the knowledge of the comfort his proximity gave to his lover. "You're not a weapon, Mathias," he whispered. "You're not a monster, and it wasn't your fault."

Mathias shot him a tremulous smile. "I'm a terrible mate, aren't I? I should be the one comforting you, and instead, you're the one doing it for me."

Ward rolled his eyes. "This comfort thing goes both ways. You're going to have to get used to me doing it, because you're not leaving me, not after you knocked me up."

Mathias blinked owlishly, and under different circumstances, the expression would have looked hilarious. "Right... The baby."

Ward waited for his mate to say something else, but Mathias just kept looking at him, scanning his face like he'd never seen Ward before. Ward arched a brow. "You know, I was hoping for a little more enthusiasm," he admitted, "and maybe some explanation on what exactly we'll do from now."

"Sorry," Mathias whispered again, but this time he was smiling. He rubbed his thumb over Ward's lower lip and caressed his neck, as if in an attempt to capture Ward's voice. "It just occurred to me that our baby is probably why you could talk to me telepathically."

That wasn't the whole of it, though. The reminder that Ward was carrying a child came with flashes of the battle, of Ward falling with a bullet hole in his chest, his mental screams echoing in Mathias's ears. It was a little weird to register that train of thought—the mind reading thing would take some getting used to—but Ward decided he welcomed it. God only knew they needed the closeness.

"I'm here," he murmured. "I'm not going anywhere. You kept me safe. You saved us."

In response, Mathias wrapped an arm around his waist and lifted him off the couch. Ward reveled in the comfort of his mate's embrace, but he also wanted to offer comfort in turn. He kept whispering in Mathias's ear, and he himself couldn't process everything he was saying. Maybe it wasn't for Mathias's sake after all. God only knew he needed to anchor himself in the present, to be one hundred percent sure this wasn't a dream.

Mathias obviously realized this, and he realized that words weren't the best way to accomplish it. Before Ward even knew what was going on, Mathias was setting him down on his—no, their—bed. Ward had no idea at what point his mate had managed to carry him to the bedroom, but it didn't really matter, because then, Mathias kissed him.

The moment their mouths met, Ward allowed himself to let go, to discard the weight that had settled on him and just be. He parted his lips for Mathias's invasion, and his mate eagerly took him up on his invitation. Their tongues dueled in a battle that neither of them won, but that they both needed regardless. Mathias's taste was just as addicting as ever, and now, it was also a refuge.

They'd done this so many times, kissing in bed, exploring one another with a greed born out of the ever increasingly strong connection between them. They'd been so happy. They still could be. Mathias was safe, and so was Ward. They could rebuild, start over. This, what they had here—it was genuine, true, fierce and powerful, and it would not falter.

The realization made passion and desperation rise through Ward. He clawed at Mathias's borrowed tee, needing the material off, needing skin to skin so much it hurt. He wasn't really successful in his endeavor, but his mate did better. Buttons popped and seams ripped as Mathias tore off Ward's shirt. His hot hands traveled over Ward's skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

Ward never wanted to stop kissing Mathias. If he spent the rest of his life lost in this kiss, it was fine by him. Still, when Mathias shoved him down onto the pillows, he went along with it, if only because he needed to breathe. Damn pesky oxygen, getting in the way of what he wanted. His lungs might be protesting, but he didn't care. If Mathias didn't touch him again soon, he'd go insane.

Thankfully, the time for waiting was over. Mathias took a few moments to tear off his own shirt, then fell upon Ward with a snarl that echoed the bright need curling inside Ward. Their mouths collided again, so viciously Ward tasted blood. Mathias's claws took care of the rest of their clothes, and Ward remained aware enough of it to force off his shoes.

After that, everything drifted into a mess of moans, caresses and breathless grunts. Between kisses, they whispered each other's names, and that was probably the only thing anchoring Ward within his identity as a person.  Right then and there, he was Mathias's Ward, and he didn't want to be anything different.