Sailing Deep (8 page)

              With a start and some shocked self-inspection, he realized he was giving off more omega pheromones than he usually did. Much more, in fact, since he had been taught how to suppress the hormones as much as possible. His body was responding to Blake’s. Perhaps the man had been onto something when he insisted on teasing Dylan’s body. Perhaps, he thought, the man was smarter than he had given him credit for, because Dylan, locked in his wolf’s mind, accepted Blake as his mate. Or at least, a potential mate.

              When the initial inspection was over, Blake nudged him to move. He guided Dylan through the crowd of gathered shifters, sticking close to his side and maneuvering him with careful nudges. The shifters had started to spread out. They clustered into groups or roamed. A significant portion of them were already moving out and away from the field, leaving plenty of pathways between the stationary groups. It was all still very overwhelming, and Dylan found himself leaning to Blake for support.

              They were stopped shortly before they reached the tree line. Dylan had his head tilted back and to the side as he watched the black dragon glide in lazy circles around the castle and the grounds. He stopped abruptly when Blake did. The subtle growl in the white wolf’s throat caught his attention. He swung his head forward, ears perked and tail straight, looking for whatever had upset Blake.

              There were three of them, standing far enough apart to avoid being close, but close enough to create a barrier. They were all wolves, all mostly gray in the fur, and all alphas. They were all young alphas, around Dylan’s age. Dylan’s hackles rose and his lips curled into a snarl. Younger alphas tended to be more curious, keener to assert their dominance, more eager to sniff out omegas, and more willing to prove themselves. The older alphas tended to be settled down already. Judging by their scent and their stance, their intent was obvious.

              Blake took a protective step forward, growling. The three alphas mirrored his movements, snarling. A similar sound brought Dylan’s attention to their surroundings. He noticed there were more of them. They stood further away, in groups and clusters, surrounding the two of them in a loose and vague circle. He sniffed the air. Most of them were alphas though there were some curious betas and omegas among them. They were all wolves.

              Dylan nudged Blake with his side, and he saw the way the white wolf’s eyes flickered to the sides though he never turned away from the three alphas in front of them. They were obviously the ones who had the first right to investigate Dylan.

              The three moved towards them with slow and precise steps, and Blake instinctively took another protective step in front of Dylan. Dylan had never been one to cower behind protectors. He could stand for himself. In his opinion, being an omega didn’t automatically make him submissive, it just differed his psyche from that of the alphas. And he refused to be submissive. He was a SEAL, not a quivering pup.

              He took several steps forward, pushing past Blake. He could see the wolf’s surprise. He glanced at him and tried to convey his message through his eyes. Blake inclined his head slightly and stayed where he stood though he watched the exchange with calculating eyes.

              Dylan met the alphas, head held high, but with warning body language. He wouldn’t submit to them, and he wouldn’t fight them, but he would protect himself if he needed to. They hesitated, apparently not expecting this outcome. Dylan showed none of the typical signs of submission. He refused. Instead, he waited for the alphas to gather themselves. When they finally got their wits back, they stepped forward to sniff him. He was pleased when the motion seemed hesitant. Though it wasn’t at all a rule, omegas had a tendency to be smaller than alphas. Dylan was happy to note that he was roughly the same size as the three.

              He bore with their inspection, but when they started to get a little too nosey and started shoving each other and snapping at each other to get closer to him, he leaped back. Dylan landed in a half crouch; teeth bared as he snarled at them. He would let the pack inspect him to accept him, but he refused to be claimed. One of them came closer and Dylan snapped at him, nipping at his legs with enough force that the wolf jumped back.

              The rest happened quickly.

              The wolf in the center leaped forward, intent on tackling Dylan. He saw the movement coming long before the wolf was airborne. He jumped to the side, avoiding the attack and falling into a defensive crouch. The wolf looked surprised and offended as it spun to face him. Before he could do much else, Blake was there. The white wolf lunged and tackled Dylan’s attacker, taking them both by surprise.

              The two rolled around in a flurry of fur, teeth, and claws. There were growls and snarls, barks and yips, not just from the two fighting, but from the observers. The other alphas weren’t sure what to do. They paced around the two, snarling encouragement and distress. Dylan rumbled deep in his throat but otherwise kept his defensive crouch. Only his eyes moved as they watched the two. He didn’t need Blake to fight his battles. He wanted to fight them himself. But something stopped him from interfering.

              It was something Blake had said, about having to prove his claim over Dylan. About how the alphas wouldn’t accept it until they had tested the boundaries. Dylan might be able to take care of himself, but that didn’t matter. Blake needed to do it. For both of them.

              Dylan didn’t intervene until blood was drawn. The gray wolf had already been blooded: a particularly good bite on the back of his neck. Dylan couldn’t tell, but Blake might have taken off a small chunk of his ear. Then the gray wolf clamped down on Blake’s right foreleg, and when he yanked it away, there was a smear of red. It was vibrant against the white of his fur. The two had leaped back from each other, circling, eyes fixed on the others. Dylan could see the slight limp in Blake’s walk, though the wolf was noticeably trying to hide it, despite the pain of putting his weight on it.

              At the sight of Blake’s blood, something in Dylan rose up. He tensed, back arched. The gray wolf leaped at Blake and a protective instinct he didn’t realize he had kicked in. Dylan launched forward, surprising both the alphas. He placed himself to Blake’s side, slightly forward and crouching beneath the white wolf’s chin. His lips curled back from his teeth as he snarled. The purpose of his stance was recognizable to everyone: he was protecting Blake’s throat. It was a maneuver that was common among mates.

              Blake recovered quicker than the other alpha. He stood tall, mirroring Dylan’s challenging snarl. What the others couldn’t see was the way Blake gratefully leaned against Dylan. He had maneuvered himself to be on Blake’s right side, to help take the weight off his leg.

              The gray wolf had halted his leap and stood regarding the two cautiously. He took a step forward in a hesitant challenge, and the two of them responded with simultaneous growls. The wolf stepped back. With an indigent huff and a final snarl of disapproval, he backed up and walked away, never quite turning his back on them. They watched him go before turning their gazes to the other alphas. They, too, watched their leader leave before turning to regard the couple. But their stances were no longer threatening or possessive. Their ears were perked forward, and their tails idly swayed back and forth cautiously. They scampered off together, giving the two a wide berth.

              They waited until the three challenging alphas were out of sight before relaxing. Ignoring the others that still watched from a distance, Blake seemed to sigh and lean more against him. Dylan lowered his head and tentatively licked at his wound. Blake made a contented sound in his throat and licked Dylan’s ear.

              After a moment, Blake gently nudged him away and took a step toward the forest. He turned to look at Dylan, waiting. Dylan took a moment to look around. The other wolves who had gathered still watched them from a distance though they looked mostly curious. None of them had gotten a chance to scent and investigate him, and even though most of them probably had friendly intent, Dylan didn’t want to give them a chance. Most of the other breeds had already lost interest. The field, as a whole, was empty compared to what it had been. Everyone was moving on, eager to let their beasts run and explore. Above them all, the black dragon’s lazy circles had gotten wider and higher, but Dylan had the uncomfortable feeling of being watched.

              He turned back to Blake and stepped up beside him. They had exchanged the barest of nods before they both took off into the forest. Unlike the previous night when everything had been covered in a cloud of fog, tonight everything was clear and fresh. Blake led the way, and Dylan gladly followed, keeping pace with the wounded but determined wolf.

              Blake woke the next morning with the warmth of the sun on his face and the chill of the earth beneath his back. He squinted against the light and threw an arm over his forehead to help shield his eyes. The sky was cloudy, as it often was here in Scotland. Some might see it as gray and dreary, but Blake found it pleasant and strangely beautiful. And very fitting for a shadow organization filled with people who didn’t exist in common knowledge.

              He licked his dry lips. His mouth tasted vaguely of iron and salt. He must have found a kill last night. Probably a rabbit or something small. The arm he had instinctively thrown over his face was throbbing. He moved it so it hovered above his face and his eyes squinted as he focused on it. There was a nasty looking bite on his forearm. The gouges made by teeth were visible. He must have been in a fight. He scowled, brows furrowing. He never fought. In fact, he made a point not to fight with the other alphas. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself.

              Then it all came back to him at once.

              Dylan.

              He jerked as the memories hit him, and that motion brought attention to the fact that there was a weight on his left side. He lifted his head and looked down, barely daring to breathe. Sure enough, Dylan lay beside him, head on his chest. An arm and a leg were casually thrown over his stomach and his thigh. He stared until his neck started to strain, then let his head fall back down to the ground.

              It wasn’t a dream. It was Dylan, and he was sleeping peacefully beside him, on him, with him. The man wasn’t small by any means. Even when he was young, he wasn’t necessarily small. He was bigger than Blake had been then. But there had always been something about him that made him appear … small. Innocent. Something that made Blake want to wrap him up and protect him. With age and his military training, Dylan was a sizable and fit man. His muscles were no doubt bigger than Blake’s. Blake’s came with casual exercise and being a werewolf. Dylan’s came from years of intense military training. Blake found solace and satisfaction in being several inches taller.

              Yet despite being strong and intimidating in stature, Dylan was snuggled up next to him and tucked neatly under his arm.

              Blake wasn’t sure how long he lay there in silence, staring at the sky and simply enjoying the moment. He wanted to etch this moment into his memory. He wanted it to be vivid when he pulled it out later. He wanted to treasure it for years to come. He wasn’t sure when he’d ever get this opportunity again. Dylan was never this vulnerable and innocent and sweet when he was awake. He’d be wary, stiff and reluctant, to be so close. Blake wanted this moment to last.

              After all, as far as he knew, Dylan’s team could pull him out today or tomorrow. He might not have a month or two with the man as he hoped.

              Blake’s fingers were idly trailing up and down Dylan’s arm. Light caressing touches. His skin was warm and surprisingly soft. It didn’t take long to notice a rock digging into his back and the stiffness in his muscles from lying on the ground, but he didn’t want to move. This moment was too precious to him, and worth any discomfort he might experience later.

              Blake had been in a very similar position once before. It had been ten years ago when they both were young and still part of their birth pack. Dylan had gotten drunk with several of the others who had recently graduated high school. Blake’s brother had been hosting the party, and Blake hadn’t had any desire to join them. He had stayed in his room. At some point late in the night, Dylan had wandered into his room, mistaking it for his brother’s. Mistaking him for his brother, Blake hadn’t corrected him. Dylan had fallen asleep in his arms that night.

              Blake had woken up early the next morning and claimed to have slept on the floor, denying that anything had happened.

              Blake was lost in thought and lost in his memories as he watched the clouds shift and move with the high wind. Had he not been so attuned to Dylan’s breathing, he wouldn’t have noticed the signs of the man waking up.

              Dylan stirred, his eyelids fluttering as he squinted against the light. Dimmed by the clouds, it was still bright to an unprepared sleeper. The hand on Blake’s stomach clenched and relaxed, and he licked his lips. Dylan groaned softly, shifting his body and no doubt taking notice of stiff muscles.

              “Morning sunshine,” Blake said, propping his hand beneath his head so he could look down at the other man. He ignored the throbbing pain in his arm.

              Dylan groaned again, closing his eyes. A moment passed, and then he suddenly stiffened. His eyes shot open, and he looked at the chest in front of him. His brow furrowed as his eyes trailed up Blake’s chest to find his face. Dylan’s eyes narrowed.

              “What are you doing?” He asked, his words still thick with sleep and a dry mouth.

              “Just admiring the view,” Blake said honestly, unable to suppress his grin.

              Dylan grumbled and pulled away. It was a slow and stiff moment. He leaned back, propping himself up on his elbow, pulling back his arm and leg. Out of respect, Blake pulled back his arm, adding it behind his head and taking some of the pressure off his injured arm. Dylan looked around. They were in the middle of a small clearing in the forest. The grass was thick and long, effortlessly rising higher than their bodies when they laid down. But the grass around them had been pushed down, no doubt, by rolling wolves. It was peaceful and quiet, without any of the sounds or sights of modern living.

              Dylan’s eyes scanned the sky, the trees, and the clearing until they came sweeping back to the two of them. He seemed to then realize that the two of them were naked. His lips pressed into a thin line and half frown, as they tended to do when he was embarrassed. A light coloring of pink tinged his cheeks. He leaned back a fraction more, so they weren’t touching.

              Blake kept his grin in place, despite feeling the loss of his touch and his warmth. It took everything he had not to reach out and pull Dylan close again. But he knew the man would object. He wanted to push Dylan, but not to the point where he lost him altogether.

              “Like what you see?” Blake asked, a teasing note heavy in his voice.

              Dylan’s eyes snapped up to his. His brows contracted. “You wish.” He scoffed and looked away. “Where are we?”

              Blake shrugged, his face cringing as a rock dug into his flesh. He leaned to the side, digging it out and throwing it away before resuming his position. “In the forest.”

              “Obviously,” Dylan said rolling his eyes.

              “Roughly four miles north of the house,” Blake said, more specifically. “It’s an uphill run, so few shifters come this far. This is my spot.”

              Dylan slid him a glance, understandably avoiding looking at his body, and raised one eyebrow. “Your spot?”

              Blake nodded, his grin had relaxed into a casual smile. “This is the place I usually come to during the moons. It’s pleasant and quiet and peaceful. And it’s a beautiful place to wake up in the morning.” He flopped his right arm down, intent on rubbing the grass for emphasis. The movement, however, sent a sharp jolt of pain up his arm. He cringed, his smile fading. He hoped Dylan didn’t notice.

              He did. The frustrated and disgruntled expression left his face, leaving him confused. “What’s wrong?”

              “Nothing,” Blake said, perhaps a little too quickly. He tried to put his arm back behind his head, but Dylan caught his arm by the elbow. Blake held a straight face while Dylan examined his arm. The blood was mostly dried and scabbed, but the movements this morning, and no doubt the change back to human, had cracked the thin layer, and it was oozing again.

              Dylan’s lips were pressed tightly together. “How did this …” His words trailed off and his eyes blanked for a moment. Blake waited. He knew the feeling. The memories of a full moon were vague at best. Memories of the pre-moon or post-moon were easier to recall, but they often took a moment. Hell, he didn’t even remember how he had gotten the wound when he first saw it.

              Realization seemed to dawn on him and he slid his gaze to Blake’s. His face was uncharacteristically blank. Honestly, Blake wasn’t sure how Dylan could even be a SEAL. Every emotion and thought showed on his face. “This was unnecessary.” He said, indicating Blake’s wound.

              He shrugged as best he could while laying down. “Honestly, I’m surprised it wasn’t worse. I expected more to fight me.”

              There it was. The small scowl, the way his eyebrows came together, crinkling his nose every so slightly. “You shouldn’t have had to fight my fight. I could’ve done it. I could’ve taken all three of them.”

              “I know you could have, and you were going to.” Blake’s smile was a tilt of the lips, his voice softer and gentler than he had intended, with a hint of amusement. With a soft grunt of effort, he leaned up, propping himself up on his left elbow. He bent one leg, raising his knee to give him better leverage. “But I appreciating you letting me take the lead.”

              Dylan looked away, embarrassed. He absorbed himself in examining Blake’s bite wound. “You said it was necessary.” He mumbled.

              Blake nodded. “It was. As your mate, I had to prove I was alpha enough for you.” He tilted his head to the side with a small grin. “I agree, it’s a stupid system and very archaic, but it was the easiest way I could see to get them to accept us and keep the other alphas from sniffing after your tail.”

              He was silent for a moment, and he seemed to be digesting what Blake had said. “You said,” He said slowly, not looking at him, “That a lot of alphas would be interested in chasing me.”

              Blake raised an eyebrow. “I did.”

              “And you said that you were surprised you only had to fight one of them …”

              “I am.”

              He frowned. His confusion left him looking like a forlorn pup. Blake’s lips twitched upward into a small, amused smile. He had always been known for smiling a lot. He could summon a smile on command. It was a good talent to have when your job involved charming your way into an organization and getting people to trust you. But Dylan always seemed to draw out his smiles without his consent. He couldn’t help it around the man.

              It still felt like a dream. Even though he knew he was working with Dylan’s unit, and he had hoped they’d eventually meet, he hadn’t expected it to happen like this. This was something Blake hadn’t dared to hope for, but he was eternally grateful for this strange twist of fate.

              “Why didn’t more challenge you?” Dylan asked, voice soft and confused, matching his expression.

              Blake was silent for a moment while that question sunk in, then he threw back his head and laughed.

              “What?” Dylan demanded, defensive glower in place. “What’s so funny?”

              “I’m sorry,” Blake said when he finally got his laughter under control. He was still gasping for breath, and his grin was wide and uncontrollable. “I’m sorry, love.” He lifted his right arm so his fingers could cup the other man’s cheek. “Are you offended that more alphas weren’t willing to fight for you?”

              Dylan gaped at him
,
“No!” then slapped his hand away. Blake’s grin faltered and he grimaced, holding his arm up and away from them both. Dylan’s flash of anger sobered when he realized he had hit Blake’s injured arm. He didn’t apologize, but he did take the arm with gentle fingers. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

              “It is,” Blake said, “But that’s okay. As a strong and capable omega, you have every right to be offended when enough alphas don’t fight for you.”

              “I wasn’t …” He started to snap, then paused, taking a deep breath before continuing more calmly. “I’m not offended. I don’t want a bunch of men fighting over me when I’m trying to keep a low profile. I’m just curious.”

              “You may not be offended, but your inner wolf might be.” Blake pointed out, amused. “The reason, my dear, is quite simple. You.”

              “Me?”

              “Yes, you are the reason more didn’t challenge me. You’re also the reason Steve conceded to me so soon.”

              Dylan looked at him, honestly surprised and curious. He looked years younger, reminding Blake of the young Dylan he used to know. “What did I do?”

              Blake chuckled. “You interfered. Once I was bloodied,” He raised his arm a fraction to indicate his wound, “You stepped in to help defend me in the fight.”

              Dylan still looked confused. “You were hurt. It seemed like the obvious thing to do.”

              Blake let his head loll to the side, smiling serenely up at the other man. His SEAL training was showing through. He might be a man trained in the art of war and many other tactics, but he was innocent when it came to pack dynamics. “You are adorable.”

              “Blake.” He said flatly. “Be serious.”

              “I am.” He chuckled again. “Your military training is showing through. A comrade is down. Therefore, you decide to help. But is that all it really is? I don’t think so. In our current states, yes, I believe that would have been your motivation. But last night we were shifted. Not only that, but it was the post-moon. The beast was strong. We had been honing the idea into your subconscious wolf that we were mates. You, as a wolf, reacted the same way a mate would: you protected my weaknesses.” Dylan looked like he was about to protest, but Blake continued, cutting him off. “Whatever you believe your intentions were, you acted like my mate. By doing so, you showed your preference to me in front of the other alphas and defied their challenge. You proved yourself to be a loyal mate. That showed them that even if they did defeat me, you wouldn’t accept them. Therefore, there was no point in continuing.” He shrugged. “So they went off probably to find more willing partners for the night.”