by Kari Gregg
Kenneth chuckled. “Neither are we.”
“Fair point. Did you see that a lot?” Jamie shoved another forkful of the tender meat into his mouth. Jamie chewed furiously and swallowed before he elaborated. “Not deserts or brutal environments. I mean humans taking advantage of shifters.”
After reaching for his cup—a ceramic mug almost certainly produced for the pack by Jamie’s sister—Kenneth tipped his head back and drank the cool crisp water Jamie had pumped from the well before they’d sat for their meal. Kenneth placed the cup on the table again and fastidiously wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. Gaze distant, he fidgeted with his fork.
That was one thing Jamie was beginning to learn about the pack’s next alpha. He was careful and measured, unafraid to pause to consider before speaking. Because Kenneth had waited two years before approaching his mate, Jamie believed Kenneth showed the same exacting deliberation prior to acting, which was an outstanding quality in a leader. He harrumphed, though, because waiting for the man’s often guarded answers was a frustrating quality in a lover. “It’s not a difficult question.”
The corner of Kenneth’s lush mouth curved. “It is and it isn’t.”
Jamie glowered.
“In some parts of the country, humans routinely prey on vulnerable shifters, but in other areas, we are accepted as equals and contributing members of the community.” He shrugged a diffident shoulder. “The southern states, for instance. Few in the deep south care who our parents are, only that we give a fair day’s work for our pay. We live among them, date humans—”
“Date?” Jamie gawped.
“Shifters are rumored to be excellent lovers.” Kenneth winked. “Many humans were eager to share lunches or dinners, a movie, and other forms of entertainment for the chance at hopping into bed with us.”
Squinting, Jamie studied his mate. The sparkle in his dark stare and the sexy grin didn’t allay Jamie’s squirming unease. “Did you?”
“Sleep with a human?” Kenneth nodded and speared another chunk of venison onto his fork. “Men and women both.” He snickered. “Once, both at the same time.”
Scowling, Jamie sat back in his chair. He had no right to be angry…or jealous. Jamie was in no position to judge the life Kenneth had led or who he had chosen to have sex with before he and Kenneth had quickened and ripened for each other. It wasn’t like Jamie had come to their relationship a virgin. Jamie committing to another fated mate before Kenneth was more disconcerting than the lovers Kenneth had taken. What Kenneth had done was just sex. No feelings beyond fondness would have emerged from such couplings, not for shifters. Kenneth would not have planned a future with a human lover, sought to produce children with one, or mated in any way that counted. Whereas Jamie had built a life with someone else.
He still hated that Kenneth had been with so many others. “Why would you mate with a man and a woman?” he couldn’t resist asking, voice more waspish than he’d intended.
“I judged every experience I accrued pleasuring a lover would directly benefit my future mate.” Kenneth ate.
“You knew I was a man.” Jamie pointed a fork laden with venison at Kenneth. “Your birth prophecy revealed your fated mate would be a man.”
Kenneth nodded. “That’s right.”
“Then why—” Jamie threw his fork into his bowl, the clatter of it ringing against the ceramic jangling his nerves. “Never mind. I don’t care.”
“You do.” Nonplussed, Kenneth placed his own fork gently by his bowl before wiping his fingers with the napkin. “You care a lot.”
That he was correct made Jamie’s irritation flare hotter. “Doesn’t matter anymore.” He waved a hand, going for nonchalant but fooling neither of them. “What was your favorite job?”
Kenneth’s eyes narrowed. “You’re genuinely upset.”
Yes. He was. “No, I’m not,” Jamie all but growled. Thinning his lips, he glared at Kenneth. “We’re supposed to be getting to know each other, aye? That’s what you said you wanted. Fine. Let’s do that.” He squared his shoulders. “While you crossed the country, what was your favorite job? Favorite place?”
Sighing, Kenneth pushed to his feet and circled the small dining room table to loom over Jamie, who glowered up at him as he industriously ate to give lie to the irrational hurt whirling inside him. Kenneth would have none of Jamie ignoring him, didn’t buy Jamie’s feigned disinterest. He nudged Jamie’s calf with his booted foot and when Jamie slid his ladderback chair away from the table, Kenneth stepped between his spread thighs, then crouched with his hands resting on Jamie’s knees. “My favorite place is here with you. My best job is Burnt Fork, Kentucky, trading pelts from wild game I’ve hunted and working to take my place as pack alpha.”
Jamie’s heart melted, but only a little. “You had sex with a girl.”
“I was young and stupid.” Kenneth caressed Jamie’s knees, fingers toying with wisps of dark hair peppering Jamie’s skin. “I thought I needed to know how that felt before I could settle down with a mate who is a man, but I was wrong. I didn’t need it. I only ever needed you.”
“Oh.” Jamie gulped. Then he shoved a hand through his hair, abruptly guilt-ridden at feelings he had no right to. “I’m sorry,” he said after a long exhale.
Kenneth’s mouth quirked. “For what?”
Raising his hands, Jamie waved helplessly. For loving Ian? No, he couldn’t be sorry for what he’d shared with his first beloved. “For expecting higher standards from you than I’ve exhibited myself” was the best he could manage.
“You were fated for Ian.” Shaking his head, Kenneth ran his open palms up and down Jamie’s thighs. “The human girl meant nothing to me. I don’t even remember her name. It’s not the same.”
Jamie rolled his eyes. “I’m being a jerk.” He finally settled his nervous fingers atop Kenneth’s. “How old are you?”
Brow furrowing, Kenneth studied him long minutes. “What does it matter?”
“Answer the question.”
“Thirty-four summers.”
“Not much older than me then.” He stroked Kenneth’s strong hands and nodded decisively. “I had a life before you and I’ve no cause for complaint or hurt upon realizing you had a life before me too. You deserved whatever happiness you could find. I should feel relieved, not rattled.”
“Ah, but the root of your unease is not that simple.” Kenneth smiled, a slow curve of pink lips. “Because you are gay, you believed your future fated mate, after Ian, would be gay as well.” He pushed up to plant a kiss on Jamie’s chin. “That I had sex with a female doesn’t fluster you as much as grasping that there is more to me than what you’ve dared to imagine. Deep down, you wonder and worry about what else about me you do not yet know.”
“We’re fated.” Jamie frowned. “Whatever you are is a perfect match for who and what I am. I’ve no reason to worry.”
“Spoken as a true pack trainer.” Kenneth grinned. “Knowing that in your head is miles apart from feeling it in your heart, though.”
“My heart’s catching up with my head.” Jamie straightened, stiffening his spine. “I’m a slow learner, but I do learn.”
Kenneth turned his hands in Jamie’s lap and played with Jamie’s fingers. “I’ve noticed.”
“Have you then?” Jamie snorted out a laugh.
Kenneth dared a wicked grin. “Yes.” He lifted Jamie’s hand to his mouth and kissed each of Jamie’s fingers. “I’m bisexual and that doesn’t fit with the vague idea of a second fated mate you had or what you thought you knew of me. Maybe that’s for the best.”
Considering Jamie hadn’t wanted another mate and had fought against trying love again, he couldn’t disagree. There was a lot about Kenneth that Jamie had gotten wrong, had let his hurt and grief color how he saw the next pack alpha, and truthfully, the shared meal had been nice. Awkward. Uncomfortable at times. There was a lot to like in Kenneth, though, and genuine curiosity about the man stirred inside Jamie alongside his discomfort.
Jamie had acted like such a jackass to him. Not just today, though his behavior this day alone made his cheeks burn with humiliated regret.
Every day.
All of it.
“I wish I could start over.” He sighed. “Begin anew, without grief clouding everything I do and say.”
“But we can.”
Confused, Jamie blinked at Kenneth. “What?”
“We can begin again. Now. Tonight.” Kenneth released Jamie, only to thread his arms around Jamie’s neck. His fingers tunneled into Jamie’s hair, the wonder in his stare showing his mate’s appreciation of him. “I can stop treating you like something wounded and fragile. You can open your heart and mind to seeing me from a fresh perspective.” When he leaned to rest his forehead against Jamie’s, he became Jamie’s world. “In our den, when we are alone together, we can do whatever we need to make what’s between us work.”
“It isn’t that easy.”
“Nothing about us will ever be easy.” Kenneth chuckled. “We only have to be willing to work on us. To start again and again and again if need be.”
“Keep trying?” Jamie gulped. “Even your patience has its limits.”
“I crossed a country for you.” Kenneth blew out a long breath. “I don’t think you realize what a miracle it is to me that I can finally talk to you and touch you. A month ago, I could only watch you from a distance, but here you are, in my den and in my arms.” He smiled. “You see only the obstacles and mistakes, not the progress.” Kenneth brushed his mouth over Jamie’s in a sly, affectionate kiss. “What I see is our future coming together.”
“But the cat—”
Kenneth silenced him with another kiss.
“But—” Jamie gasped when Kenneth lifted his clever mouth.
“But nothing.” Kenneth separated enough to lay a single finger across Jamie’s lips, hushing him. “Our future together is dawning like the morning star, shiny and new. The cat is part of our future and we will deal with it when the time comes. Together.” He sighed. “But enough about the cat. We’ve time aplenty to discuss and brace for the attack. Let’s finish our dinner, then sleep. I’ve a yearning for the warm weight of you snuggled up to me in our bed.”
Chapter Eight
JAMIE’S own screams woke him.
He’d been at the cabin, the den he’d shared with Ian. In his dream, Ian was still alive, young, and strong. When Ian had approached him from the woods in a giddy rush, his back had been straight and unmarked by the claws of the mountain cat that had attacked him. He still smelled of clover and wood smoke. His hair was as dark, thick, and lustrous when Jamie reached out to touch him.
“Oh, my Goddess, how I’ve missed you,” dream Jamie had said, fingers shaking as they’d threaded into the wild mane of his mate’s hair falling freely down the line of Ian’s spine. “Ian—”
When his mate had pivoted, though, Ian’s face was gone. Where his beautiful dark eyes, proud nose, and talented mouth should have been was a black void as empty as Jamie’s suddenly pounding heart.
He’d screamed.
He’d also awoke in Kenneth’s arms. “Look at me. You’re all right. Safe,” Kenneth said, clutching Jamie against him.
Jamie shuddered. “Just a nightmare.”
Kenneth carded Jamie’s hair. “Yes. Only a dream.”
Pulse racing, Jamie swallowed, but all his spit had dried up, his mouth as dry as dust. “I heard the yowl of a big cat.”
Kenneth pinched Jamie’s chin between his fingers and forced Jamie’s gaze to meet his in the darkness of his den. “That cat is long dead.”
“I know.” Jamie shivered, the piercing shriek of the mountain lion still echoing in his ears. “There’ll be another, though. Lisa said there would be. That cat’s mate or one of its children.”
“I personally clear predators from the mountain pass to Bitter Creek. Striking that bargain with the neighboring pack was one of the first actions I took when I arrived at Burnt Fork. I hunt the mountains to keep your sanctuary safe for you.” Kenneth leaned in, his forehead kissing Jamie’s. “You know I do.”
Jamie trembled, because he did know that. Out of concern for Jamie, who regularly visited the rocky terrain where Ian had bled his last, Kenneth had minimized those dangers. Jamie had spied him hunting the pass often since he’d joined the pack and Jamie occasionally found signs of his presence in scattered pebbles or wolf prints in the gritty dust. He’d ignored it. Resented it.
Longed for only a glimpse of his future mate and hated himself for his weakness.
Now he knew why Kenneth had taken such care and risked raising Jamie’s hackles by frequently visiting the pass to Bitter Creek.
Lisa and another damn prophecy set on shattering Jamie’s life.
“It felt so real,” he said of the nightmare, still shaking because one day, the attack would be. He’d fight a cat. His sister promised he would fight. The Goddess did.
“I bet it did.” The puff of air from Kenneth’s slow exhale warmed Jamie’s skin. “You don’t dream of what happened much.”
Jamie’s mouth thinned. “Not anymore.” He didn’t want to be comforted at Kenneth’s embrace tightening, but with the icy sweat of fear dampening his skin, Jamie was tired of struggling and hurting alone. He wriggled closer, skin on skin, into Kenneth’s reassuring bulk. “He was chasing me.”
Kenneth startled, drew back and blinked in the dark at Jamie. “Your mate?”
“The cat.” Jamie shuddered. “We’d seen them in the pass for years. Not only their scat or scratches on the granite from their claws where they jumped, Ian and I both watched the cats that hunted the high places.” He chocked back a sob. “Ian loved them. Said they were vicious but noble enemies.” He rubbed his eyes. “I’m no hunter, forget being a great fighter. When Ian spotted cubs with the female, he made me promise not to venture up to the mountains alone and then would hardly agree to my accompanying him.” His mouth curled into a bitter smile. “I think he knew how it all would end.”
“He sent you away as much as he could to spare you witnessing the attack he sensed coming.” Kenneth squeezed Jamie tight. “He was a good mate.”
“Lisa told me what’s going to happen while I was at the creek today.” Gulping down sobs that wanted to break free, Jamie nodded. “She said she’d told you too.”
“Why do you think I risked upsetting you more than I already do just by existing by patrolling the high places you shared with him?” Kenneth’s muscles loosed, his body relaxing into the mattress beneath them. “Not that I can stop the prophecy. None of us can escape our destiny, but I’ve killed or chased away every cat from the mountains for over two years.”
Jamie lifted up, planting his elbows on Kenneth’s chest to glower at him. “You’re not worried.”
Smiling, Kenneth shook his head. “I’m not.”
Jamie’s brow furrowed. “I’m no fighter.”
“I’m aware.”
A bubble of laughter escaped Jamie’s lips at Kenneth’s deadpan response. “I could die.”
“Everyone dies eventually.” Kenneth shrugged.
“If I die and we’ve already mated—” Jamie’s heart lurched, sudden fear screaming through him.
“Lisa believes we will have mated before the attack, yes,” Kenneth replied, voice lifting in husky inquiry.
“If I die, you could die too.” Terror intensified within Jamie, familiar and unwelcome. “Fated mates usually die together.”
“We’re working on changing that, giving people who have lost their mates hope, support, and extra monitoring by our pack healers to help them survive their grief.” Kenneth stroked the taut muscles of Jamie’s shoulders. “Stop worrying and go back to sleep. You need your rest.”
He needed more than rest.
He needed a plan.
“I missed you in bed this morning,” Kenneth said, finding Jamie at the site where Ian had died. Gusty winds whipped at them both, stirring dirt devils of dust in the dry air. The rock beneath Jamie had been wa
rmed by the sun before Jamie’d sat, though, and he didn’t mind the grit. Kenneth, however, squinted. “I thought you’d returned to your den.”
“No.” Jamie sighed. “The pack buried Ian in the Between so I’d stop coming to the pass. They wanted me to mourn him safely and in peace, but he isn’t at our den. He’s here. This is where I feel him most.” He quirked his mouth into an almost smile. “I needed to talk to him.”
Crossing beefy arms across his chest, Kenneth leaned against a boulder and studied Jamie with a shrewd stare. “What does Ian say?”
“He hates you.” Jamie glanced away, the turmoil within him unabating since he’d woken in Kenneth’s arms before dawn. He’d thought the uneasiness would relent once he’d visited Ian, but he’d been wrong. He sighed. “Sometimes, he hates me.”
“You realize it isn’t Ian you’re talking to, right?” Kenneth grimaced. “Whatever he felt for you, his spirit didn’t linger. We’d recognize some sign of it if he had. He crossed over.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Jamie flung his arms wide, angrily tossing away pebbles he’d been fidgeting with. “Or that I’d want anything less for him?” He glared at Kenneth. “I’m not crazy, but coming here helps me cope. I lost Ian, but memory of him helps me process and figure out how to move forward.”
“It’s called projection and transference. You’re pushing your own feelings onto a dead man.” Kenneth’s lips thinned. “You hate me and occasionally hate yourself. Perfect.”
“I don’t hate either one of us,” Jamie snarled.
A bubble of laughter worked up Kenneth’s throat, rolling out of him in husky waves. “Really,” he said when he could catch his breath.
Jamie glowered, irritation replacing his awkward discomfort at least. “I take it back. You are a terrible person.”
“That’s more like it.” Kenneth grinned. “I wonder sometimes what he must have felt about me, though.”
