by P. Jameson
Surge glared at him. “Am I going to have to beat your…”
Blister raised one eyebrow, and Diz waited to see what would come out of Surge’s mouth. Tana had been on them all about their potty mouth antics in front of Gracie. She could already say “fuck that” with all the authority of a grown shifter.
“…hiney?” he said finally, and both Diz and Blister burst into a fit of laughter while Grace snuggled closer to his leg.
Annie crouched low to look into the little girl’s eyes. “Listen, honey. I’ve got some experience dealing with your Uncle Blister. Wanna know my secrets?”
Grace nodded.
“He needs extra love,” Annie whispered.
“Like… like more huggins?” Grace’s word for hugs always made Diz smile.
“Yes. But first you have to get his attention. Do you know how to do that?”
Grace shook her head.
Annie peeked at Blister. “Well baby, you’re going to have to hiss at him. Your mama taught you how to do that, right?”
The girl’s eyes got big as she nodded.
“Try it,” Annie encouraged.
“I’d never be scared of a little baby kitten,” Blister scoffed, playing their game.
“You might be scared of my baby kitten,” Surge snapped.
Diz could see Gracie gathering her courage. With her daddy and Annie in her corner, she felt she could win against big, bad Uncle Blister.
Carefully, she pulled away from Surge’s leg and faced her opponent. “We don’t eat kittens in thish family, mishter,” she declared.
“That right?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Guess it depends on who the kitten is.”
With that, she’d had enough. Hands on her tiny hips, she let out a squeaky hiss packed with enough three-year-old venom to make… well, to make them all laugh, but somehow they held it in.
Blister straightened abruptly, his face going serious. He dropped to his knees close to her, bowing his head. “I’m so sorry, Gracie. You’re right. We don’t eat kittens in this family. Can you ever forgive me?”
A sweet little satisfied grin formed on her lips, and then she ran forward, wrapping her arms around his scarred neck. “I forgive you Uncle Blishter. You jusht need extra huggins sho you ain’t sho mean.”
“Yes, I do,” he agreed.
Diz laughed. “Yeah, that girl won’t have any problems when her mate shows up.”
Surge snapped a glare at him. “Do not speak of that.”
Diz raised both hands in the air. “I’m just sayin’…”
“Sayin’ what?” Ella asked as she waddled in from the living room, hand rubbing her swollen belly.
“Talking about Gracie’s future. Shouldn’t you be sitting?”
She rolled her eyes. “All I do is sit. I’m tired of sitting. I’m ready for this young to make its debut.”
“We all are,” Drake chimed in, coming up behind her to kiss her cheek.
“Ugh. Don’t touch me,” she said, pushing him away.
“What? What did I do?”
“I just don’t like the feel of skin on skin. It makes me cringe. Like nails on a chalkboard, you know.”
He frowned, muttering, “You weren’t saying that earlier.”
Ella’s eyes got big and she smacked him on the chest.
“What? You weren’t! You were very happy with skin on skin this morning.”
She shook her head, giving him a glare Diz never wanted to see from his own mate. “When this baby is born, you’re getting every 3am feeding, I swear, Drake Folsom.” And then she waddled back to the living room without another thought.
“What was that all about?” Surge laughed.
Their alpha scowled. “Fuck if I know.”
Four sets of eyes snapped to him.
“What? Oh. Shit—I mean, crap. Damn. I mean…” He took a deep breath and bent low to meet Grace’s eyes. “You don’t say those bad words Uncle Drake says, right? You know that.”
She nodded. “Yesh, I know. Can’t shay shit or damn or fu—”
Drake quickly covered her mouth with his palm while Diz and the others tried to hold in their snickers. He actually looked afraid. “Damn it, your mama’s going to kill me.”
Punk walked in carrying a cake she’d bought from the store. Chocolate, it looked like. Beast followed her, with little Artie on his hip. The pack had just celebrated his first birthday last week. The wolfling gripped one of Beast’s dreadlocks in his tiny fist, chewing on the end.
“He teething?” Diz asked, surprised at Beast’s casualness with the idea of drool in his locks.
“Teething? Yeah. I guess that’s what it is. All I know is he won’t let go without screaming like a banshee. So… this is where he stays.”
Punk stood on her tiptoes, kissing the baby’s head and then touching her lips briefly to Beast’s. He made a sound that resembled a purr and Diz rolled his eyes, scanning the place again for Dessy.
She needed to get here fast. He didn’t like playing the third wheel. Or… ninth wheel. Whatever. At least when she was around they could third-wheel it together. Two third wheels made a... something. A bicycle. Yeah, that’s what they made. The best damn bicycle you could imagine.
What he really needed was his mate. Like, really fucking bad. He’d done a swell job keeping it to himself all this time, but his wolf was hurting like a motherfucker. He was perpetually horny—which was seriously unfortunate when he spent time with Destiny—but that wasn’t the worst of it.
Diz looked around, taking it all in, letting himself dwell on the path that led them to this. In three years, things had changed a lot. The guys had homes. They’d built families. Blister’s tent days were long gone. The future looked bright.
But where was Diz? He still stayed in the room above the shop, not an inch closer to mating. The only real good he’d had from the last few years, besides becoming an uncle, was his friendship with Dessy. What he had with that female made all the waiting worth it.
The door creaked open and she slipped in carrying several two liter bottles.
“There you are,” he exclaimed, and she met his gaze with a soft smile.
That smile. The one that made his heart thump outrageously in his chest.
He forced everything down. The acknowledgment that she had any physical effect on him. The fact that he’d been looking for her since he’d walked in. The idea that their friendship could shift to something fiercer in an instant. All of it. He shoved that shit way the fuck down.
He couldn’t think of it. Because he refused to hurt her. One day he’d be so dedicated to another, Dessy would hardly matter.
The thought left him feeling sick.
No. She’ll always matter. She will.
From the moment he’d pulled her from the gully, she was a crucial part of his life. His wolf wouldn’t take that away from him.
He rushed forward to help her with the bottles, but he was intercepted by tiny feet slapping the floor.
“Dessinee!” Grace cried, running full force at her sister’s legs.
Destiny let out a quiet oof when the toddler slammed into her, but managed not to drop the coke. Diz reached over the little girl, relieving Dessy of her load and carrying it to the counter.
“Hey there, Gracie,” she said, bending to scoop the young into her arms. “What’s made you so smiley today?”
The child giggled. “It’sh Uncle Blishter. I beat him up.”
Destiny’s eyes got big. “You did? But you’re so little, and he’s so big. Are you joking me?”
Grace shook her head, growing serious. “No, ma’am. I really did. I hisshed at him like mama taught me, and he jusht crumbled.”
Destiny laughed, kissing Grace’s puffy cheek. “Good kitty.”
“Time to eat,” Surge bellowed, and everyone gathered around the buffet to fill their plates.
Diz sidled up behind Destiny, anxious to talk to her. About nothing, really. That was the great thing about them. They could chat for ages
, shootin’ the shit, and never get tired of it. It was impossible to get bored with her. Her point of view was something that always surprised him. She never reacted the way he expected her to. She’d cry when she should laugh, and laugh when she should cry. She’d tell him things she should keep secret, and keep secrets of his. He could be himself with her, maybe even more than he could with the guys.
Yes, his best friend was amazing.
And so damn pretty.
Her dark auburn hair curled softly around her ear where she’d tucked it to keep it out of her face, and swept over her bare shoulder where her tank top cut off. She was petite, not even reaching his shoulders, and lean. Her waist cinched slightly inward just before her hips, her legs, short but lithe. She didn’t have many curves to speak of, but she didn’t need them. She’d make some male very happy someday.
Diz’s gut turned to lead.
She glanced at him and her happy smile turned to a confused frown. “What’s wrong?”
He looked away, the crease in his brow not letting up an inch. “Nothing.”
He’d thought about her mate many times. The idea of some male cat coming to claim her had never sat well with him. Of course, it was just because of the mating laws of the cats. He wouldn’t let her be forced into a claiming as the cats liked to do. That was why it bothered him. Yes, that was why.
By the time they’d dished up their food and were sitting at the big table, Diz had finally managed to get his shit together so he could enjoy this time with his pack. He laughed at Surge’s antics, got nervous when Ella looked like she was going to stab Drake with her steak knife, and tried to teach Grace how to wink. Artie cooed and painted the table with mashed potatoes. Which happened to make their way into Beast’s dreads. Which was just goddamn funny, meticulous as he used to be about them.
Yes, the pack had changed a lot. The problem was, Diz hadn’t. He was the stagnant one, stuck on pause until fate stepped in.
He glanced at Destiny. She had a smear of chocolate frosting at the corner of her mouth. Without thinking, he reached over, stopping her midsentence, and wiped it gently with his thumb. Then he sucked the frosting off his own finger.
“Oops,” she said, blushing.
But he realized too late the mistake he’d made. Touched her lips. It was like seeing her naked on the grass. Different than what he’d felt around her before. Different than the intimacy they shared as friends. Different in a way that could cause serious damage.
Motherfucking wolf. What did he need to do, strangle the damn animal?
You’ll get your fix when you’re mated. For now, back the fuck off.
Destiny reached for her water, knocking the glass over. It spilled on the table, and she gasped, quickly picking up pieces of ice and tossing them back into the cup.
“Damn it. Sorr—” She stopped short, her limbs going rigid, her expression blank as a fresh sheet of paper.
“Dessy?”
But she said nothing, frozen in that moment of time. Like she’d touched the water and it was connected to a hair dryer. Shocked into place. If he could pull the plug and release her, he would.
“It’s happening,” Tana said. “A vision.”
“Oh no,” Ella murmured. “Let’s get the kids out of here.”
“What ish it?” Grace asked. “Ish sishy okay?”
“Yeah, baby. She’s fine,” Surge assured her. “Let’s go get some more cake, yeah?”
She grinned wildly. “Yeah!”
They left, and Beast followed with Artie, but still, Dessy sat frozen, staring dead at the table.
Diz rubbed her back gently, knowing how badly she hated this, hoping to give a little comfort. She was stiff. And so cold. She barely seemed alive at all. It was eerie and too close to that night years ago when he’d found her in her bobcat form, barely alive.
The night he decided if she would just live, he’d spend as long as he could making her happy. Until he found the one meant for him and his wolf made Dessy less of a priority.
The seconds passed like minutes, the air in the room crackling with tension.
Suddenly Destiny let out a shocking gasp, like she’d been drowning and was finally able to come up for air.
“Breathe,” Diz whispered close to her ear.
She nodded furiously, drawing air into spasming lungs and forcing it back out again. Over and over she breathed until she could finally take a breath like a normal being.
“Are you alright?” Annie asked, appearing with a fresh glass of water.
“Yes,” Dessy croaked, gulping the drink.
Diz looked at his alpha, who stared speculatively at her. “Was it clear that time?” he asked carefully.
She nodded. “Yes, but… this time it wasn’t about your baby.”
Drake’s jaw tightened. “What was it about?”
Destiny glanced quickly at Diz before answering. Her eyes looked sad. Maybe even a little scared.
“Me. It was about me.”
Chapter Three
Sunday dinner was pretty much ruined with that little snippet of the future. Not for the first time, Destiny wondered if what she saw was even the truth. It seemed more likely that her mind was conjuring bullcrap. Some screwed up remnant of imagination from when she was in her coma regurgitating itself randomly.
Well, not randomly. It was the water.
Drake wanted details, but it was her life, and the vision was wrong anyway. What she’d seen was clear but it didn’t make any sense.
She finished helping clean up, trying to ignore Diz’s concerned eyes on her. He was just as wary of her visions as the rest of the pack. And they should be since not a single thing she’d seen had come true.
Yet.
Still, after seeing that Drake and Ella were to have a boy, he seemed pretty insistent that she tell him if she saw anything else about his young.
Maybe when the child was born a girl, they’d all calm down.
“I’m gonna call it a night,” she announced, bending to hug Gracie. “See y’all tomorrow.”
She stood and Tana hugged her, squeezing a little too tight. The others waved. Beast and Punk were packing their little one up to leave, and everybody else seemed pretty quiet. No betting on pool tonight, or midnight racing on the practice track.
“I’ll walk you home,” Diz said.
She shrugged. It wasn’t unusual for him to, but she was pretty sure tonight he was just worried.
Outside, they walked in silence. It was only a short trek to her place since she occupied Drake and Ella’s old cabin. It was the perfect size for her. Maybe even a little on the large side.
The trail that led to the cabin was so serene that Diz’s sudden voice startled her. “Was it your mate? Is that what you saw?”
She shook her head. “No, nothing like that.”
He wrapped his hand around her arm, pulling her to a stop. Slowly his hand slipped down to hold hers, and she let his touch soothe her. As it always did.
“Will you tell me?”
She opened her mouth to respond but couldn’t say the words that would explain what she’d seen.
“I can’t,” she said instead.
His face creased with a frown. “But you tell me everything.”
“Not everything,” she muttered, pulling her hand free and continuing down the path.
“What do you mean, not everything?” His voice was a sharp arrow over her shoulder, and she smirked.
Oh, he didn’t like that she had secrets. Of course not.
“I mean, not everything,” she said. “And don’t try to pretend you tell me everything either, Diz.”
He was quiet, keeping pace behind her.
She kicked a fist sized rock out of the path as her cabin came into view.
“You’re my best friend, Dessy. You know me better than anyone here, forget they’ve known me twenty years and you only three.”
“And you know me better than anyone else, but that doesn’t mean you know everything.”
�
��I want to,” he said quietly, making her heart lurch.
“No you don’t, Diz. Trust me.” It was true. If he knew her feelings for him went beyond friendship, he’d pull away, and it would kill her.
He stepped in her path, forcing her to stop. She met his frustrated gaze. “Don’t tell me what I want or don’t want. You don’t know.”
But she did.
Her lips slid up on one side as she curved her palm around his strong jaw. “Let’s not talk about this anymore, okay.”
His expression was troubled. “You want to ignore whatever’s bothering us? That’s not like you.” He shook his head. “I want to talk. What did you see in your vision?”
Destiny sighed, and stepped around him, continuing to her cabin. Diz followed, silent until she stepped on to the porch. When he spoke, his tone had changed.
“I know how to get it out of you.” It was playful and made her grin. She loved playful Diz. Sometimes he was like a little kid trapped in a man’s body.
“Oh, really. How’s that?”
Her hand was on the doorknob which she’d left unlocked. He’d moved closer, crowding her almost.
“I could tickle it out of you.”
Her smile left her face. “No, Diz. Don’t.”
“Yes, Dessy. I think I will.” He was so close his hot breath brushed her ear as he spoke.
“Don’t even think about it.” She turned the handle, swinging the door open, and that’s when he struck.
In one smooth move, he wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her like she was a sack of potatoes under his arm. She squealed but he ignored it, carrying her through the entry and tossing her on the couch.
“Diz, no…” But she was already laughing so her protests weren’t taken seriously.
He kneeled over her while she pushed at his chest shaking her head.
“Sorry sweets, but I need answers,” he murmured, taking both her wrists in one hand and raising them above her head.
“Don’t do this. You’ll be sorry, I swear,” she warned, kicking to no avail. His hips pressed against her legs, pinning her in place.
“Oh, I don’t think so.” He held his other hand in front of her face, wiggling his fingers threateningly. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong, Dessy?”
