by Noah Harris
“Hmph,” Dean grunted, giving the door of the truck an extra dose of muscle as he shoved it. He wasn’t feeling quite as exhilarated as he had when he was still on his own property. Yet, the place did nothing to deter him. Not the stares of the un-welcoming committee, nor the gnarled ancient wood. None of it made him feel anything but downright determined. He would be damned if a bit of scenery and a few nosy, narrow-minded citizens were going to stop him from saying his piece.
He headed towards the familiar large building at the back of the expanded grove. There was nowhere else that the king and queen of this particular castle would be. Undoubtedly, someone in the crowd had already managed to scurry off and report his arrival, so there was no way he was going to have the element of surprise. Oddly enough, for whatever reason, he was perfectly fine with that.
With all of that and more in mind, he began his march toward the building, not willing to put off the inevitable for another minute. There was no missing the stares sent his way as he marched past everyone . . . his jaw tight and his eyes set on his destination. He really had no way of knowing what was going on in the minds of those around him, and honestly, at this point he didn’t much care.
That is, until a familiar voice caught his attention, “Dean?”
He whirled around to face the owner, “Artemis . . . thought you were out scouting or whatever it was they said you were doing.”
The tall woman shrugged, “I was. Apollo and I came back yesterday to report what we found. We’re having a bit of a rest today before they send us back out. Heard you scampered off.”
She was as blunt as ever, he saw. “Haven’t you heard? Everything is temporary in this world.”
That made her shrug again, “I’ve heard something of the sort before, yeah.”
Dean sighed, glancing over his shoulder to the large building, still several yards away, “Did you really stop me just to tell me that you heard I’d run off?”
She tossed her hair, still looking full of mischief, “Maybe. Or maybe I wanted to see the look on your face before you went marching up there raising all kinds of hell.”
Dean cocked a brow, “Isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to try to talk me out of whatever you think I’m up to?”
“Do I really seem like that kind of girl?” She motioned to herself, jerking her thumb in the general direction of over her shoulder, “There’s a reason they keep sending me out and away from this place. Doesn’t have a thing to do with whatever skills they say I have. They’re just keeping me out of their hair, and they know Apollo will be right behind me.”
“An accomplice . . . that must be nice,” Dean snorted, feeling a bit fidgety now that she had interrupted his forced march.
“There are perks,” she shrugged again. “The point is, I just wanted to see what you looked like. You wanna raise hell? Go right on ahead. You ask me, this place could use a bit of a shake up, and your boy? Pfft, he needs a swift kick in the ass.”
Dean looked down at the heavy, black leather boots on his feet, “Well, a good thing I wore just the right shoes for that sort of thing then, isn’t it?”
Her laughter followed him as he turned from her and resumed his march to the home of the patriarch and matriarch of the pack. Whatever reason Artemis had supplied for the impromptu visit, he knew full well it wasn’t the whole truth. The fact of the matter was, she didn’t care what he looked like, or how he sounded. What she seemed to want was to give him a slight head nod to say that she was supporting him from the sidelines. It wasn’t quite the same as backing him up, but he’d been backing himself up for enough of his life that just having support from the stands was enough to make him feel a little better.
When he reached the thick door, he raised his hand to knock before another familiar voice cut through his thoughts, “Dean?”
Even distracted, Dean would have recognized Mikael’s voice anywhere. He had never seen Mikael as stunned as he currently sounded, yet as he turned he still knew what he would see. The man’s hazel eyes would be darker than usual as he blinked rapidly at Dean, his brow furrowed, with two lines showing on his forehead. His head would be cocked only slightly, the normal questioning expression frozen in place.
Prepared as he was, the sight of Mikael still managed to draw him up short. It certainly didn’t help that the other man was wearing nothing but a pair of jeans that fit him in all the best ways. Whatever he had been carrying had been dropped beside him, and the sheen of sweat from the day’s work was still glowing on his skin. His confusion had darkened the color of his eyes but did nothing to detract from his looks in the slightest.
For a moment, Dean felt his inner will falter at the sight of the man. He looked so damn good, standing there in hardly a stitch of clothing. Looking adorable in his stunned confusion, every inch of him wondering why Dean was here. There was something that Dean hoped was happiness in his shocked face, as if the man really had missed him as much as Dean had hoped. Over that, though, was a wary fear, the same expression that had been on Mikael’s face since the moment they set foot on this land.
It was that expression that ignited Dean’s anger all over again.
“Wha-what are you doing here?” Mikael asked, finally finding his voice as he gestured at Dean in disbelief. “I thought you—”
Dean narrowed his eyes, turning away from the door and marching toward Mikael now instead of the building. The larger man drew himself up, angling back ever so slightly as Dean grew nearer to him. Truth be told, Dean had every intention of hitting the man. He had never had to strike another person with his fists before, but God knew that was what he wanted to at that moment. To wipe that stupid, confused expression off the man’s face and knock that silly fear away before it sank in even deeper.
Instead, when he got close to Mikael, he reached up, cupping the back of the man’s head and yanking him down. In his surprise, Mikael bowed forward enough that his lips met Dean’s. The kiss was about as forceful as Dean had intended his punch to be. He could feel Mikael tense up behind the kiss, the shock of the sudden action turning him to stone. Then, in a moment that flushed relief through Dean’s body, Mikael’s body relaxed, his mouth opening before Dean’s urgency.
Mikael’s arms wrapped around him once more, pulling him tight as he finally returned the kiss with all the vigor and force that Dean could want. The man’s heat and strength wrapped around Dean, who hummed happily, never releasing his hold. For that moment, all he knew was the taste of Mikael on his tongue, the press of the man’s body against him, and the vibration of the man’s low, happy growl.
“Fuck,” Dean swore when their lips finally separated, staring intently at Mikael, “I missed the hell out of you.”
“I missed you too,” Mikael admitted, sounding as if he were in pain, “but Dean—”
“No,” Dean replied, cutting off whatever Mikael had to say, “Look at my face Mikael, look at it.”
Mikael opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of it and closed it once more. Now he watched Dean before nodding, “Okay, I’m looking.”
“This is the face of a man who isn’t dealing with this crap anymore, you got me? I’m not gonna just walk the fuck away because some asshole says I should. I’m not walking away from you just because you’re scared and backed into a corner.”
“I’m not—”
“You are,” Dean interrupted again, “and I’m not going to just ignore this and wait for you to maybe come back, especially when we both know no one here is ever going let you go if they have a say. And they don’t have a fucking say.”
“Oh really?” A familiar harsh voice spoke from behind him.
Dean whirled around in surprise at the sound of Samuel’s voice. For a moment, the large man’s presence—so close and so dangerous looking—caused Dean’s resolve to waver. Then he felt Mikael’s stiffening body begin to draw away from him, and the flare of anger and purpose slammed back into place.
Like hell.
“Yes, really,” Dean respond
ed, tightening his grip on Mikael before the man could really make a great escape.
“You don’t get a say in this, outsider,” the werewolf growled, once more sounding nothing like his eldest son. “That’s what we tried telling you before. You are a guest, and you already overstayed your welcome. Now get the hell out of here and leave my son in peace. He doesn’t need your influence.”
“The influence that makes him happier than he ever was while living here under your thumb?” The words leapt from Dean’s mouth before he could stop them, “Is that the influence you mean?”
Hard yellow eyes turned back to him with a low warning growl, “You—”
“I don’t care how scary you think you are!” Dean ignored Mikael’s tense arm trying to pull him away, while still maintaining his grip on the other man. “You might be the Alpha, you might be his father, but that does not give you the right to live his life for him. Who the hell cares if he isn’t having kids? We both know there are more than enough werewolves around here to keep the pack going, and we know damn well that his sisters carry the same bloodline as him. This isn’t about tradition or preserving the pack, it’s about you having control!”
“Dean,” Mikael hissed, the fear in his voice being edged out by something that sounded a lot like awe. In truth, Dean was a little surprised at himself as well. He couldn’t remember the last time he had really raised his voice at another person, let alone to a werewolf who could easily tear him to pieces if he was so inclined.
Samuel only stared at Dean, nostrils flaring in warning. Dean was pretty sure the man was going to lose it and probably even try to make the attack personal. He was more than a little surprised when the large man snorted and turned away from him. His heavy footfalls were the only sound that Dean heard as the man began to walk away.
“Go home, little man,” Samuel spoke, not even bothering to turn his head to his shoulder. “You have no place here. You are nothing.”
Dean’s temper flared and he stepped forward, throwing off Mikael’s arm as it tried to drag him back, “Then I challenge you!”
chapter
Thirteen
Samuel paused in mid stride, the obvious tension in his body showing in his shoulders as he froze in place. The words had left Dean’s mouth before he could stop them, and he had to fight to not show his own shock. The same shock that he saw shining brightly on the faces of every person who had heard him, which was pretty much the entire place. Even Mikael had stopped, frozen in place behind him.
Slowly, the older man turned, surprise shifting to the arrogance that Dean despised so much, “You, challenge me? Tell me that this is a joke. A human, challenging me?”
The derision irritated Dean even further, his back straightening to an even more rigid stance, “You heard me. I challenge you.”
Samuel’s eyes moved to Dean’s neck, where his grandfather’s necklace lay, glinting in the sun, “That won’t be enough to save you this time, little human. I am not Dante, and I will not be caught off guard.”
Instinctively, Dean’s hand went to the necklace, gripping it tight as he stared the man down, “And?”
Samuel approached and Dean fought hard to keep himself steady as the man thundered up to him. A mixture of arrogant amusement and anger came from the man as he closed the distance. The bulky frame almost completely filled Dean’s sight as Samuel deliberately entered his personal space. He breathed deep, his face close to Dean’s as he leaned forward. The werewolf took two more deep breaths, the corner of his mouth twisting upward.
“I can smell your fear, little man,” he growled, sounding more than a little pleased.
Dean leaned back so he could stare up at the man’s eyes, “I stand by my challenge.”
“You have no rights here, human,” the werewolf told him, “you have no right of challenge. Now go home before I feed you to the worms. Only out of respect for my son have I kept you alive for this long. Do not think to test that by calling on more than you deserve.”
Dean could feel his internal hackles rising, “I am the blood of my grandfather, directly from him, and through him I can claim status enough!”
Samuel paused in his turn, eyeing Dean angrily, “You cannot.”
It was Dean’s turn to smirk, “You gave him honorary Kin status. And last time I checked, that sort of thing goes through the bloodline for your people, doe it not?”
Samuel’s hard gaze moved sharply over Dean’s head, obviously to glare at Mikael who was still frozen behind them, “And where would you have heard about that, I wonder?”
“Me,” Lucille’s soft voice somehow carried from the place she had taken just inside the semi-circle of Grove people, “I am responsible for that knowledge being passed to him.”
Samuel’s attention turned to her, “You? I thought you a little more prudent than that.”
Lucille gazed back at her father, unwavering, “As foolish as it is Father, he is correct. He has every right to make the challenge if he sees fit to do so.”
There was no mistaking the hint of disapproval in her voice. In his few interactions with the woman, she had kept all emotion out of her voice. To hear even a hint of it now was jarring. Yet, she still stood by his decision, supporting it more than he had seen her support anything before. That at least, was something Dean could appreciate.
Samuel’s jaw set, “Fine. If this foolishness must happen, so be it. If you truly wish to throw your life away human, that is on you. When the moon is at its highest, you will find me waiting for you at the proving grounds.”
Before Dean could do much more than nod his head in understanding, Samuel whirled and stomped off. The people surrounding them watched the man as he passed before looking at Dean and Mikael. Their expressions were varied, Dean noted. Some angry, some wary or worried, others looked interested and a little more respectful than before.
“Dean,” Mikael’s now tight voice almost whispered from behind him, “My house. Please.”
“Fine,” Dean huffed, turning to stomp past the man without so much as a glance toward him. There was no denying the fact that he had probably just signed his own death warrant, or at the very least had guaranteed that he was about to have a few rough weeks healing time after Samuel was done with him. It didn’t alter the fact that he was still absolutely furious with Mikael for everything. If the man wanted to try to talk him out of it, let him try and see where it got him.
The few people who stood between them and Mikael’s home broke away as Dean approached. No one said a word as he walked, though he certainly heard soft murmuring once they considered him safely out of earshot. Ignoring that, and the fact that he could feel the anxiety and anger coming off Mikael, he stomped rather gracelessly into Mikael’s well-built home.
“What,” Mikael began with a hiss, slamming the door behind him, “were you thinking?”
“I was thinking,” Dean turned, staring up at Mikael without wavering, “that maybe someone around here needed to stand up to that asshole for real this time. You weren’t going to do it, so I did.”
“He is going to kill you!” Mikael roared, finally letting loose. For a moment, Dean swore the windows vibrated in their panes.
“And he’s been killing you slowly your whole life!” Dean shouted back, stepping towards Mikael. Mikael’s obvious surprise held him still for a moment, and Dean took full advantage of it. With another step forward, he jabbed the man in the chest, “Whether it’s a stray claw, a bad bite, or him keeping you from ever doing anything except what you’re ‘supposed’ to do, what’s the damn difference?”
“It isn’t like that,” Mikael protested through gritted teeth, not backing down any more than Dean was right now.
“Really?” Dean scoffed, gesturing between them, “Then you explain to me how the hell it isn’t like that. Because all I see is you going off the porch when he allows it, but snapping right back when he barks hard enough.”
Mikael’s nose flared, and Dean could see his pupils dilate until they almost swallowed
up the color of his irises, “You don’t know—”
“What the hell I’m talking about? Yeah, you told me that before, but it’s funny because that’s exactly what’s going on here. You guys might work differently from people in some ways, but don’t you stand there and pretend like your dad doesn’t dictate every part of your life that he wants to. And don’t act like you don’t just stand there and take it when he puts his foot down, which I’m betting is a lot.”
Mikael growled, the noise low and dangerous in his throat, “I have to do what is necessary Dean, you might not understand that, but I have to do what is right by my family.”
The low blow made Dean lean back in shock. “First off, stop growling. I just stared down the one person around here who actually does want to rip my head off, so you can quit trying to intimidate me. Secondly, don’t you dare insinuate that I don’t know a thing about sacrifice. I gave up every single dream I had to be what I thought I needed to be, for what was ‘smart’. And then I gave up every damn comfort that I had to come out here, throwing every penny I possessed into something that might just ruin me.”
“It’s not the same,” Mikael stepped closer, eyes flashing. “The only thing you were risking was yourself. I can’t just abandon my family and my responsibilities. You might be able to throw everything away, because the only thing you’re risking is yourself, but I can’t do that anymore!”
“Who’s that talking, you, or him?” Dean hissed, refusing to back down from Mikael despite the low, dangerous sounds he was making, “And for the record, it might just be me sacrificing myself and what I have to you, but to me that’s everything. As a matter of fact, until you came along, what I had in my life was what I had scraped for, fought for, and sacrificed for. It was all I had left in my damn life, and that might not mean much to you, but it was and is everything to me.”
