by Fel Fern
“Daryl, did you do something to piss off the Alpha?” Jared asked, sounding worried for him.
“I don’t think so.”
Marina patted his back. “The Alpha doesn’t seem in the best of moods,” she said.
“Oh yeah, Deacon had already growled at a couple of idiots who asked if he wanted company for the night. Only an incredibly daring or stupid person would want to bed the Alpha,” Jason muttered.
“Good luck,” Jared told him solemnly.
“Guys, don’t talk like I’m about to die,” he grumbled, then realized they were teasing him. He punched Jared’s shoulder. The werewolf only grinned.
“Be careful or the Alpha will eat you.”
Then his traitorous friends gave him a shove to Deacon’s direction. The Alpha didn’t even notice him until he stood next to Deacon’s shoulder. Maybe something was on Deacon’s mind. Daryl took that opportunity to study the Alpha’s harsh profile. Deacon was handsome, in a rough kind of way. The Alpha was built like a tank, his body bearing old scars.
An old scar bisected Deacon’s left eyebrow and went down his cheek, making him seem harsher under the fire light. Then Deacon turned his pitch-black gaze on him, and to Daryl’s complete shock, flashed him a dangerous and predatory smile, reminding him that he wasn’t just tangling with any normal male but the Alpha. “Lost, little Esper?”
“You wanted to see me?” Daryl asked, recovering from being tongue-tied.
He used his powers and brushed against the Alpha’s mind. With neither Santino nor Sabine around to provide mental blocks, he could sense how on edge Deacon felt, all wound up about something and—the all-consuming hunger Deacon felt hit him like bag of bricks.
Suddenly, Deacon stood behind him, big hands on his shoulders. He stilled, swallowed when Deacon put his mouth against his ear and nipped at the earlobe. “Are you trying to read my emotions without my permission, Daryl?”
“It’s not intentional. My powers work like that, it’s natural for me.” Okay, that had been true enough, but he also wanted to know what Deacon was feeling.
Deacon set his teeth against the smooth line of flesh between shoulder and neck, making him shudder, especially knowing that intimate spot was where a shifter put his mate mark.
“Lie,” Deacon said. “I can always tell when someone’s lying to me.”
Daryl spun on his heel so he looked up at the harsh profile of that savage face. When he and his brother first saw Deacon’s huge demon wolf with black eyes and midnight fur, his brother had been terrified. Daryl had been the same, except in the back of his mind he also thought Deacon looked like a lethal, beautiful force of nature.
“You looked lonely,” he blurted unthinkingly, wanting to feel Deacon’s huge callused hands and warm mouth on him again.
Deacon’s intense black gaze captured his and the naked lust there made his mouth dry. Flecks of yellow mixed with black, and he knew a shifter changed eye color when strong emotions rode them. This was new, though, because of all the werewolves there he noticed few had the same control Deacon did.
Deacon changed eye color, because of him. Daryl wondered if that meant anything or if it was a side-effect of the coming full moon.
“Why do you say that? I can have anyone I want if I choose,” Deacon said.
“And yet you turned all of them away, except me.”
Jesus. Did Daryl really say those words to the Alpha’s face? Thank God his brother wasn’t around, because Dave would probably worry. Any person with logical sense would, too, because Daryl had always known this werewolf Alpha was a male few could handle.
Deacon gripped his chin, tipping it upward. His mouth curved to a smile that went right to his dick. His prick pulsed in his jeans, and it didn’t help Daryl knew shifters possessed very sensitive noses. Then again, Deacon didn’t bother hiding the erection in his jeans. Daryl looked down, only for the Alpha to pull him close, grinding his jeans against his. He let out a breath.
“Tell me, little Esper. Will you play with this wolf?” Deacon asked. The Alpha rubbed his thumb over the unshaven stubble of his chin, a silent dare in those ink-black eyes that hid so many secrets, so much hidden pain few could see or comprehend.
He reached out unthinkingly, tracing all the muscles standing in stark relief across Deacon’s muscled forearm. The gesture seemed to make the Alpha blink.
“I dare,” he finally whispered, then tiptoed and did what he’d been tempted to do all night long. Daryl stole a kiss from Deacon.
Chapter Three
Daryl didn’t know what to expect. He could tell the action took Deacon by surprise, but only for a moment. The Alpha easily took control, closing his hand over the nape of his neck and banding his arm over his waist, preventing escape. Not that he wanted to stop. He knew a man like Deacon would kiss like this, all roughness and bite, but he liked it, wanted the Alpha to take control.
Deacon nipped at his lower lip, thrust his tongue down his throat. He sucked down hard. What Daryl might lack in experience, he hoped he’d make up for enthusiasm. Daryl had read plenty of gay romances in his free time and hoped some of that would be helpful today. Deacon slipped his hand under his shirt, touching skin. He moaned when Deacon pulled his mouth away, aware of the contrast of his smooth skin and Deacon’s calloused hand.
The Alpha buried his face into his neck, inhaling his scent, he realized, something shifter lovers did. Daryl had hung out around Jared and the others often enough now to recognize some mating rituals, but Deacon didn’t do relationships.
“Before we go further, there are rules,” Deacon told him. Deacon’s irises looked more gold now than black.
“I know.”
Deacon raised one eyebrow, the scarred one. Daryl wanted to reach out and trace the old wound but didn’t dare, not until he knew all the stakes. They were still in public. No doubt the rumors would spread like wild fire the next day, but he didn’t care if word reached his brother.
“Enlighten me.” Deacon said those words as a command. This man, Daryl realized, was used to giving orders, to never being refused.
“You don’t do long term,” he answered.
Deacon neither confirmed nor denied this, merely said one word, “Come.”
He sucked in a breath as Deacon offered him a hand. Daryl didn’t expect that. He closed his fingers over Deacon’s big ones and let the Alpha lead him away from the campfire. Deacon began leading him to the nearest line of trees.
Woods surrounded the pack compound on all sides. Deacon had his own room in the main pack house, but he heard the Alpha had his own cabin somewhere in the forest nearby, a place where Deacon supposedly went when he wanted to be alone.
Why Daryl had started collecting snippets of information on Deacon, he didn’t know. Daryl was hungry to know more about the supposedly ruthless Alpha able to hold not just his enormous pack together, but the entire paranormal community of Devil Hills.
“Where are you taking me?” he asked, purely to make conversation.
He had a feeling Deacon didn’t like random small-talk much, but he wanted to know more about the man he was about to give his virginity to. Daryl knew deciding to surrender himself to the Alpha might be reckless, not the most logical choice. After all, Daryl could go with any of the interested young werewolves in the pack around his age, who definitely didn’t think of him as a one-night-stand. He could get into a relationship with any of them, knowing a werewolf mated for life.
Too bad his heart only wanted one male, an Alpha who’d always been full of rage, one who placed his pack first before himself and yet chose to isolate himself from the rest to remain at the top.
“My cabin. Don’t worry, only Santino and Sabine are allowed to come here, and they know when to not disturb me,” Deacon replied.
“Alpha—” he began.
“Deacon. Call me by my name when we’re together,” Deacon interrupted.
“Deacon then.” God, the name sounded odd on his lips, yet strangely intimate. “Can you slow do
wn? I can’t see in the dark.”
Deacon came to a halt and, without warning, tossed Daryl over his shoulder like some kind of caveman. He sucked in a breath, struggled for a bit only for Deacon to whack at his ass.
“Did you just slap me?” he demanded.
“You wouldn’t stay still. Why? Changed your mind?” Even as Deacon asked that question, the Alpha kept moving. Deacon seemed unbothered by the uneven ground or the untamed terrain only shifters or other nature-based paranormal could walk through without stumbling once. The Alpha moved swiftly, with a purpose.
“No, it’s just, I didn’t want to be carried like some sack of potatoes. Not romantic at all,” he grumbled.
Deacon ran that big hand over his ass again, making him groan. He blushed, aware his denim-clad dick brushed against Deacon’s broad shoulder. Shifting only made things worse, made him rock-hard and further aroused.
“I don’t do romance.”
Deacon’s words stung, but Daryl had known what he was getting to.
“Well,” he ventured, “being carried like this might just wilt my prick.”
Deacon let out a deep and sexy sound capable of melting his insides, the sound shocked him because he didn’t think a man like Deacon laughed easily. “Oh, I doubt that, little Esper. You’re so hard for me right now, you’re about to burst, aren’t you?”
Daryl thumped Deacon’s back muscles. “Ow,” he grumbled and gave up.
What was the point? It felt like punching a damn tank. Oh, Daryl knew he could put a stop to this anytime he wanted. Deacon would never hurt him, wouldn’t do anything without his consent. He was safe. Daryl knew the Alpha was the last man who’d hurt him. He was an empath, after all, and underneath Deacon’s lethal, ruthless mask lay the soul of a man who wanted to protect his home and pack.
“We’re almost there,” Deacon said.
Daryl gave up trying to convince Deacon to put him down and enjoyed the change of scenery instead. The trees in these parts of the woods looked much older, taller, and the terrain underfoot turned rocky.
“What are you thinking about?” Deacon asked, curiosity in his voice.
“Jared and the others keep encouraging me to explore these woods, but I’ve always refused because I’ve never been a sporty kind of person. I think they’d look beautiful in the daytime,” he mused out loud.
“I’ll take you on a hike sometime,” Deacon said with a growl to his voice.
He had to blink several times to make sure he heard that right. Deacon sounded dead serious. The Alpha always had plenty of duties and responsibilities, and yet Deacon wanted to spend more time with him?
Daryl would love the idea of just the two of them out in the wilderness. Maybe he could even feign an accident, trip over a rock or something so Deacon could catch him with those strong arms of his. Beg the Alpha for another kiss to make things better and—
What the hell was he thinking?
Deacon didn’t commit. Ever. No use letting his mind wander that far, because Daryl knew it would only hurt him in the end. Dangerous. Deacon was trouble, not because of what he was, but because of what he was capable of doing to him. Once the Alpha hooked his claws into Daryl’s heart, he was done for.
He loved too much, cared too easily. That was what Dave told him before. Guard your heart, his brother always said, because you’re too kind, and kindness can kill. That had been the past, though, when every day he struggled to hide what he was. Here in Devil Hills, he’d been free to make friends, to use his abilities to help others.
“You would? Wait. You’re confusing me. I thought I’m a one-night-stand, and here you are, telling me we’ll go on a trip in the woods?”
Deacon growled in answer.
“Okay, I can’t understand you when you get all growly and stuff,” he said, squeaking when Deacon smacked his ass. He blushed harder, shocked by how aroused he became from that little gesture.
“You have a mouth on you, little Esper.”
“Well, what did you expect? You threw me over your shoulder like some kind of savage woodsman, then told me we’ll go on a pleasant hike someday? You’re confusing me.”
Deacon said nothing for a few moments. Sweat dripped down his back, and Daryl wondered if he said something wrong. Deacon stopped, placed him back on his feet. Daryl took a look around and found they stood in front of a modest and rustic single-floor cabin’s porch.
He gripped Deacon’s arm, searching the Alpha’s black gaze and wondering if he should apologize.
Deacon only fisted his shirt and slammed his lips over his. Jolts of electricity went down his chest and right to his dick, and he moaned when Deacon released his mouth only to cup his prick and give it a squeeze. Daryl nearly blew his load right there and then but somehow managed to hold back, not wanting to come across like a teenager lacking control.
“Enough talk,” Deacon told him.
Rendered speechless, he nodded. Screw confusion. Daryl knew what he wanted from the start, even if it meant risking his heart for an Alpha who closed his own heart off a long time ago.
Chapter Four
Deacon clutched a handful of Daryl’s shirt, wanting another sweet taste of the Esper who had the balls to argue with him and complain about being carried. Daryl should be grateful he sped up the process for them both, and besides, Deacon had been pissed with himself. When he led Daryl to the woods, he forgot Daryl wasn’t a shifter and couldn’t see in the dark.
The thought of Daryl getting hurt or twisting his ankle thanks to his carelessness didn’t sit well with him. Daryl yielded to his kiss, planting one hand on his left pectoral, needy and hungry like he was. Fuck. Each time he took Daryl’s mouth, it only got better. His dick rubbed against the zipper of his jeans, and he’d go insane if he wasn’t inside Daryl’s tight little ass soon.
Deacon cupped Daryl’s ass, giving both cheeks a squeeze through the denim. Damn clothes. Why were they still wearing those?
“Inside,” he said after pulling away.
Deacon was tempted to throw Daryl on the porch floor and rut the little Esper right there and then. No one would interrupt them, and here, in his own space, Deacon could let his guard down. Even now, he sensed Santino around the area in wolf form, but the other enforcer would keep his distance.
Deacon always had one of the siblings nearby. They’d convinced him long ago that if something happened to him, the pack and all the work all of them put into rebuilding it would unravel. He trusted them, didn’t mind their presence because unlike the other enforcers, they understood his need for privacy.
No. He refused to have their first time like that. Daryl deserved better. Daryl’s question still lingered in his mind. When Deacon heard that pup Jared wanted to show Daryl around the woods, a savage kind of possessiveness overcame his wolf. While Deacon knew Jared and his friends were harmless, certainly no competition for an Alpha, he still didn’t like it.
Mine, his wolf screamed when Daryl approached him.
Daryl Rush wasn’t a one-night-stand. Deacon knew that from the start, understood if he went down this direction there was no going back. His wolf had grown too attached, too overprotective toward the Esper to the extent Deacon wanted to mark Daryl up, leave his scent on the Esper so the other wolves in his pack understood only he could touch Daryl.
“Um,” Daryl ventured. “You’re looking at me like I’m good enough to eat.”
Deacon opened the door to the cabin.
“Finally scared of the big bad wolf?” Deacon didn’t tease, didn’t make jokes normally, but with Daryl, it seemed fine.
He wanted to see the Esper all ruffled up and annoyed again, to see the fire in Daryl’s blue eyes. It was only natural his animal would be drawn to an Esper with hidden steel in his spine, who never seemed capable of holding back what he felt. Good. Deacon preferred blunt honesty to deceit any day.
“You don’t scare me, Alpha.” Daryl didn’t tremble or shake when he said those words, simply met his gaze evenly with those calm blue eyes that
looked far too old for him.
Deacon opened the door wider, invitation clear. Silently, he dared the Esper to prove it. Daryl stepped in and he flicked the switch on, illuminating the space. The cabin contained the basic necessities, a small dining room for four, his living room and bed.
The only other people he’d ever invited in here were Santino, Sabine, and Sylvia. Deacon made it a habit to eat Sunday breakfast together with those he considered his family. Deacon loved seeing Sylvia make a mess in the kitchen and put maple syrup all over his couch, much to Sabine’s horror. It was the only time Santino ever dropped his guard to play uncle and chase his wild little niece outside.
That little girl’s smile and infectious giggles lit up everything and everyone around her.
Daryl was like that, too, like magic. Deacon watched the little Esper often enough to know his wolves seemed to smile more when he was around, when they were usually wary of outsiders. In a span of two months, Daryl had made his way into the hearts of his wolves.
Deacon didn’t know if it was because of what he was that Daryl seemed naturally capable of injecting positive energy in a roomful of gloomy people. Even the older pack soldiers who’d been through hell, grief, and other negative emotions went to Daryl in the hopes he could heal some of their mental scars.
He could imagine pulling up an extra chair for Daryl during those Sunday mornings and—he blinked. Deacon’s thoughts were going in a dangerous direction, one he and Daryl certainly weren’t ready for. Daryl knew the rules, even told him plainly he didn’t expect anything after tonight.
Daryl finished looking around the cabin and flashed him a shy smile.
“I should warn you, this is, um. My first time. With a man.” Daryl seemed nervous, and he had a hard time processing the Esper’s words. Daryl went on, “I’m a virgin. I mean, I’ve dated some guys, but I always hold back. I never know when they might find out I’m an Esper, and they might rat me out to the Discipline Squad.”
