Lone Wolf Ripples 03 - The Fire of a Lone Wolf's Heart (2 page)

It was this latter lesson that made him remain completely still as he listened to the exchange between the two people in the room he currently found himself in. One of them was a woman—the same one who'd rescued him from the hunters—and the other a man he didn't know. The strange male was seated awfully close to Perry's bed, and his proximity made a peculiar heat swell through Perry, down to his very core.

That was the only defense he had as to why he didn't shy away the moment the stranger became aware of him. Instead of doing so, he repeated the man's words inquiringly. "Decide what?"

The man froze like a deer in the headlights, which given the circumstances—and the fact that Perry was the deer—seemed far too amusing. He made a noise that sounded like a choked growl, but wasn't quite there, and clenched his hands into the sheets.

The woman rolled her eyes and grumbled something unintelligible under her breath. She stepped into the room and closed the door behind herself. "How are you feeling, young one?" she asked instead of addressing his own question.

There were many things Perry could have said to that. Tired, hungry, confused, achy. Instead, he chose, "Not hunted."

It was, perhaps, the most important thing out of this new situation he was currently in. Whoever these people were, they didn't mean him any harm. He stole a look at the man, and bit his lip as that jolt swept over him again. "Who are you?"

The stranger finally snapped out of his trance and offered him a small smile. "My name is Clayton Reynolds, and this is my friend V. V was the one who found you and rescued you from the hunters."

As names went, V was quite weird, but Perry didn't ask. There was something about the woman that told him the inquiry would be rebuffed, and possibly unwise. The part of him that was magic shied away from her, and given her earlier display of power, that wasn't exactly surprising.

Whatever the case, he owed her and was intrigued by her companion. "I'm Perry Waters. Thank you for saving me."

"Don't mention it, Perry," V answered. "As for what Clay and I were talking about earlier... We were trying to figure out what to do once you woke up."

"Ah." Back to the second lesson then. He would draw all the wrong attention if he stuck around for too long. He smiled weakly and nodded. "I understand. I can go."

He rolled away from the pillows, planning to do exactly that. The last thing he wanted was to become a burden for people who'd helped him. Of course, he wasn't counting on running straight into Clayton. "You're not going anywhere without me," the man said.

A proverbial light bulb lit up in the back of Perry's mind.
Werewolf,
his animalistic instincts screamed.
Mate,
his magic whispered. It was all there, in Clay's stance, in his deep green eyes that glittered with something wild and fierce. He was a big man, and when he moved in even closer, he practically dwarfed Perry. Usually, in such situations, Perry's instinct would have been to fall back onto his first lesson and run. Instead, he desperately wanted to stay.

Ironically, it was that very desire that gave him the strength to pull away. He ruthlessly reminded himself that now was not the time to dwell on romance. "I'm being hunted. They'll catch me again eventually. There's no reason to drag anyone else down with me."

Let alone his fated mate, the man with whom Perry could have had a life, a family, love. It hurt that he was so close to it now, and yet, couldn't reach for it, couldn't risk Clayton's security. But if he stayed, it would only hurt more when the separation unavoidably came. Even if the hunters didn't harm Clayton—which was doubtful at best—perpetuating closeness between the two of them would make Perry's eventual absence an agonizing wound for the werewolf. Unacceptable.

"You know I'm right," he insisted. "The most I can do is delay them and give my herd and other half-breeds time to take refuge and find cover. Beyond that... I have no real future."

"Perhaps." V hummed thoughtfully. "But no matter what you say, you won't dissuade Clay." Her expression softened to something that was almost motherly. "You can't stay here, Perry, no, but that doesn't mean there's no place for you."

Perry laughed, and the sound came out embarrassingly wet and choked. "Where else could I go?"

"I contacted the Folk on your behalf," V replied. "They've agreed to provide shelter for you. You just need to travel to the closest fairy circle, and they'll take over from there."

Clayton's face shut down, as if he'd just realized something. "That was why you wanted me here, to escort him to the fairy circle."

V nodded. "I'm sorry, Clay. If I had any other ideas, I would try something different, but..."

Perry should have been relieved, since if there was any place where he could find safety, it was with the Sidhe. But the Sidhe were notorious for their dislike of shifters, to the extent that the daughter of their queen had received no support whatsoever when she'd mated a werewolf. Her death had been a blow that had softened Sidhe rules, but that didn't mean the Folk would accept werewolves anytime soon. Perry was only welcome because of his pixie heritage.

Much to his shock, Clayton smiled. "It's okay. Thanks, V." He took Perry's hand and kissed it. "As long as he's safe, I'm happy."

Their gazes met, and for a few seconds, time seemed to slow. In that moment, Perry wanted nothing more than to lean over and press his mouth to that of the werewolf. The impulse was more than sexual. He ached to get to know this man, to earn the right to call him Clay instead of Clayton, to share smiles and stories and to find out everything that made his mate tick.

The moment broke when Clayton suddenly freed his hand and got up, clearing his throat. "All right. We should pack up and be on our way before the hunters return."

Perry opened his mouth to protest, to say that surely, there had to be another way—and then he realized that really, there wasn't. His herd couldn't help him, and if Clayton's pack had been able to provide assistance, the man would have mentioned it.

Come to think of it, Clayton hadn't mentioned his pack at all. For all Perry knew, his mate had another lover, a werewolf like him with no baggage and no problematic legacy.

Shoulders slumping, Perry resigned himself to the unavoidable and nodded. "Sounds good."

"I'll... I'll wait outside," Clayton stammered.

V didn't say anything. She just watched the exchange in silence, and remained quiet up until the point Clayton left the room. Once the werewolf was gone, she sat next to Perry on the bed and took his hand. "Come. I know things are bad now, but you can't give up."

Perry couldn't really bring himself to muster the slightest bit of optimism. "I have nothing to give up on, V. Just my life and my hope that it will serve for something." He stared longingly at the door, wishing it would open again. "I can't ask for more, not now."

"I'd love to say that fate would not be cruel enough to separate you now that you've met, but I know better," V answered. "Just keep this in mind. As long as the two of you live, you'll always be connected. Death is the only thing that's certain—and sometimes, love can transcend even that. So give yourself the chance to believe. You might be surprised at what happens. Running isn't always the way to go, for you, or for him."

Perry blinked, wondering what she meant by that. He might have asked, but before he could do so, a wave of power swept over him. "Hush now," she whispered. "Don't be afraid. For now, my magic will protect you. You're safe, and you still have hope."

Perry listened to V's words and wondered if he could dare to believe her. He didn't know—but he wanted to, and that scared him. More than the strange magic that made his own energy tingle, more than the knowledge that the hunters were still after him, he was scared that he would love, and it would be for nothing.

He couldn't do it. He was still a deer-shifter, and his lessons had never failed him before. He had to run, and he had to keep Clayton safe. His own selfish desires didn't matter.

They left mere hours after Perry had woken up, once Clay's mate had recovered from the sonic attack. V made all the arrangements, and she could be very resourceful when she wanted to. Clay didn't even have to go back to his apartment. She provided him with clothes, documentation, money, and anything else they would need.

Clay almost resented her for it, because if only she'd delayed it a little longer, perhaps he could have spent more time with his mate. However, he also knew she was right to hurry. She might have gotten rid of the hunters nearby, but those men hadn't been working alone, and more would come.

It was these thoughts that passed through Clay's mind as he drove out of the city and onto the freeway. The moon shone brightly up above, and the light that he'd have normally found comforting now seemed cold and lonely.

They didn't speak. Perry couldn't have missed the fact that they were mates—Clay was sure of that now—but he obviously realized that their situation didn't allow for any romantic entanglements. Clay hated that it made them both so awkward with one another, hated that what little time they did have would be spent like this, in this heavy silence. Still, he couldn't come up with anything to say, because he felt like he was failing his mate. He should have been able to find another way to keep Perry safe. They shouldn't have to be separated.

In the end, it was Perry who spoke first. "So... How did you meet V?"

Clay barely managed to suppress a sigh of relief. It was as good a topic as any other, and quite frankly, he didn't care what they talked about as long as he got to hear Perry's voice. "In a way, she saved me too. She does that... sort of collects people who need help and steps in to give them a hand."

"So she's like... A shifter fairy godmother?" Perry joked.

Clay chuckled. "They aren't always shifters." If V had any particular criteria for her choices, Clay had yet to figure them out. "As far as I can tell, they're just people. And she's not a fairy."

"I know," Perry mused. "I can't read her at all. She's... interesting."

"That's one way you could put it. Anyway, she helped me out when I was at an all time low in my life, and now I work for her."

"You do?" Perry sounded intrigued. "Is that why she called you for this... mission?"

"Not really." Clay considered what he was about to do, then decided that he didn't have time to keep secrets. "The thing is, Perry, I'm a lone wolf."

So far, Perry had been staring straight ahead, perhaps in an attempt to keep the conversation light. Clay's words surprised him so much that he released a small gasp and looked straight at him. Clay could see him through the corner of his eye, and dared to toss him a smile—one he didn't really feel. "Relax. I'm not going to attack you or anything."

"That's not what I was thinking," Perry replied, wrinkling his nose cutely. "I just... I don't know that much about lone wolves, but in my herd, we were always taught to stay away from them."

Clay had figured that was the case. "Whoever said that probably had a good point. Lone wolves are dangerous for two reasons. There are only a handful of crimes that warrant exile from a pack, so the wolf in question is usually a criminal. Second, purely by the fact that they're isolated from their pack, lone wolves lose their humanity."

He could still remember the all-encompassing chill permeating his bones, making everything gray and meaningless. To this day, he didn't know what V had done to save him. "I was lucky. V managed to protect me from that, at least to some extent." He hadn't really felt like before until today, until the moment he'd sensed his mate, but that was something entirely different. "She also kept me from being found by my pack or other enforcers and silencers."

"But why would someone like you even be exiled?" Perry cried. "What could you have possibly done? It's unfair."

Clay was so startled by his mate's fierce defense of him that he couldn't help but look away from the road and meet Perry's gaze. The emotion in his mate's brown eyes shocked him to the core, warming him from the inside out. He shook himself and quickly focused on driving again. "It's not what I did. I'm a born Alpha, and so are my older brothers. When the time came for my oldest sibling to take over the pack, he banished me, claiming I was spreading sedition."

"That's awful," Perry murmured. His small hand landed on Clay's knee. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. It hurt at the time, but it was for the best. I wasn't happy there. And besides, if that hadn't happened, I wouldn't have met you."

It was the wrong thing to say, since it brought them back to the impossibility of their relationship. Perry's fingers left Clay's leg. "Clayton, I—"

Clay interrupted his mate before the man could say anything else. "Please, call me Clay. And don't sound so upset. I'll never regret meeting you, and neither should you."

"I just wish things were different," Perry replied, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible. "I can't help but feel this isn't right."

"I know," Clay answered quietly. "But all things considered, I still think I'm lucky. After all, if V hadn't found you..."

He didn't dare to finish the phrase, because just uttering its beginning made his wolf rise up angrily inside him. He tried to make himself sound optimistic, as if comparing their situation with the time his pack had abandoned him, but things weren't remotely the same. Being left without a pack had hurt, yes, but losing his mate—or at least, being separated from him—would be a million times worse.

He pushed back that knowledge, since he'd have plenty of time to dwell on the misery of his future. "Never mind that. Tell me more about yourself. I've never met a deer-shifter before—or a pixie for that matter."

Perry jumped at the chance, and they fell into a conversation that, given their previous awkwardness, was strikingly comfortable. It was fascinating for Clay to hear about the way of life of other shifters, especially of his mate. Apparently, Perry had never known his pixie father, but he hadn't felt the absence, because his herd had loved him anyway. Of course, they'd also pushed him away when his presence had endangered the herd, and that made a growl swell up in Clay's throat. He reminded himself deer-shifters weren't werewolves, and allowed his mate's soft voice to flow over him and calm his temper.