Robin’s face fell. Peter’s words brought with them a rush of sadness and confusion. He didn’t want to think about fights and dead people, so he dropped his gaze.
Peter rested his hand on top of Robin’s, then said, “Now let the mouse go.”
Robin pulled a face. “I could try healing it anyway?”
Peter shook his head and ran his thumb up and down Robin’s hipbone. A tremor slithered up Robin’s spine when Peter said softly, “Robin.”
Robin heaved a theatrical sigh, then muttered, “Okay, okay, I will let the mouse go like you wish. If I was in my wolf form, I’d probably wag my tail in excitement.”
“The sparking turquoise dots in our energy lines tell me the same,” Peter deadpanned.
“Oh bummer, I forgot about that.”
“You’ll get used to them.”
“So you keep saying,” Robin said.
Peter’s face cracked into a smile. “You should listen to me. I’m always right.”
“At least you’re not suffering from an inferiority complex.”
Peter laughed out loud at that, kissed Robin’s earlobe, and asked, “Is that your polite way of saying I’m an arrogant prick?”
Robin feigned shocked innocence. “Wow! I didn’t even know you could step so low and use that kind of language. I’m shocked!”
The laugh lines around Peter’s eyes stood out, accentuating his relaxed facial expression. “You and I will have a great future together.”
“Together,” Robin echoed.
Setting the mouse on the ground near a thick bush, it crept away. Robin leaned into Peter’s body. “Can we go back to the cave? I’ve lost interest in hunting or learning more about energy lines.”
“What are you interested in?”
Robin turned around, rubbed his nose into Peter’s beard, then kissed him. “You.”
“Would it be possible for me to interest you in another round of mating?”
“I think that might work.”
“We shall retreat to the cave immediately to find out.”
Grinning, Robin freed himself of Peter’s arms and shifted. When he looked at Peter, the man was only partially shifted. Before Robin dashed away he hollered telepathically, First one in the cave gets to decide which position we’re doing the mating.
Peter’s protesting huff followed Robin as he leaped away, pine needles scattering underneath his paws.
Eleven
DURING THE fourth night after their initial mating, Robin couldn’t fall asleep. The sex had been as awesome as ever; his body still twinged and twitched as he remembered about how long Peter had kept him on the edge. He should be dead tired and sleeping, but instead a strange bout of disquiet prevented him from finding rest.
Peter breathed out, a sound much alike an annoyed huff, and swiped his tongue over Robin’s muzzle. Robin yipped before apologizing telepathically, I’m sorry for keeping you awake.
Peter rubbed his stout bear face against Robin’s, grunting something. He lay down on his side, urging Robin to lie next to him. Sighing, Robin nestled up closely. It still sucks that you can’t talk telepathically. Doesn’t it strike you as strange that you can’t?
Snatching Robin’s ear between his teeth, Peter gave it a gentle shake. Robin whined and squirmed until Peter let go. He threw a reproachful glance at Peter before curling himself up with his head pressed into the thick fur of Peter’s belly, inhaling Peter’s clean and pleasant scent.
After squeezing his eyes shut, Robin listened for Peter’s even breathing, but sleep still eluded him. His attempt at synchronizing his breathing with Peter’s failed, so after a while, Robin uncurled himself, walked a circle around Peter, then lay down at Peter’s back.
Again he tried to relax by feeling Peter’s chest rise and fall in a steady pattern, hoping to ease his restlessness. While he waited for sleep to claim him, Robin stared at the cave walls and wished for the strange uneasiness to fade away.
Darkness bore into Robin, the cave walls seemingly wanting to grind into him. Eventually he gave up, rose to his feet, and paced the cave, wondering what the hell was going on. In the end, he walked up to the cave’s entrance.
Something pulled him away from the cave. His gaze bounced from the surrounding walls to the entrance and over to Peter’s prone form. Robin scurried back and forth until the decision to leave the cave—just for a moment—formed in his mind.
As soon as he crouched down to crawl out, his momentum stopped. He glanced back over his shoulder, startled to find Peter glowering at him while one paw pressed Robin’s tail to the ground. How the hell was that possible? Peter had been sleeping!
Peter, I wasn’t going to sneak out.
Peter let go of Robin’s tail to round on him, preventing Robin from using the one way out of the cave. Huffing and puffing, he nudged Robin back to their resting place. Robin went where he was pushed, with his tail tucked between his legs, throwing hurt looks at Peter.
Once back on the mattress, Peter pressed Robin’s head down, the unspoken demand of “stay where you are” not lost on Robin. He closed his eyes while Peter shifted. When a large hand grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and lifted him halfway off the mattress, Robin dared open them again.
“You may shift and explain yourself.”
Peter put Robin back, sat down on the edge of the mattress, and waited. The hard look on his face didn’t bode well. Robin swallowed, then carefully walked up to Peter. There, he bent his head to rub it along Peter’s chest, making sure his throat was exposed. It took a pitiful whimper from Robin for Peter to sigh and wrap his arms around him.
“Please shift so we can talk properly.”
Wagging his tail once, Robin left Peter’s strong arms and shifted. He sat sideways between Peter’s thighs, tucking his knees up to his chest. Peter crushed him to his body.
“Did I scare you?” Robin asked.
“Yes, you did. Why were you going to sneak out of the cave without telling me?”
“I told you: I wasn’t trying to sneak out,” Robin said.
Peter pressed a kiss on Robin’s hair before he asked, “All right. What were you trying to do? And please refrain from lying to me.”
“I wasn’t lying!”
“I’m more interested in why you felt the urge to leave the cave. At night, nonetheless.”
After licking his suddenly dry lips, Robin said, “I’m sorry.”
“Robin, please explain yourself. You don’t go out alone in your wolf form, especially not during the night.”
“Oh no! Not you too! What makes every alpha-inclined man think I am not allowed to go out by myself? I’m actually a grown-up and a werewolf. I’m capable of defending myself.”
“It’s dangerous in the forest, and you need to be with me while you’re in your wolf form. How shall I protect you if I don’t know your whereabouts?”
Robin ducked his head until his chin almost touched his knees, unsure how to reply to Peter’s concern. His outburst had been… childish, perhaps?
“Talk to me, my angel.”
Shaking his head while at the same time curling himself up more tightly, Robin replied, “No.”
“That’s most uncivilized behavior.”
Peter’s choice of words surprised Robin into a startled laugh. He pushed his head under Peter’s chin. “I hate when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Talk all weird, because it makes me feel….”
“Odd?” Peter ended the sentence, the teasing audible in his voice.
Rolling his eyes, Robin pressed a kiss to Peter’s collarbone before replying, “Yes.”
“Now that that is all sorted, would you please explain why you wanted to leave the cave?”
Robin poked a finger into Peter’s chest. “Don’t you ever forget anything?”
“No, it wouldn’t be wise to be forgetful.”
“Uh, right.”
“I’m still waiting for an answer, my angel.”
Robin slumped again
st Peter’s chest. “I’m just feeling… strange. I really need to expand my vocabulary to have more words at my disposal whenever I want to refer to something as weird or strange. I seem to need those words quite frequently since I met you.”
Peter dropped another kiss on Robin’s tousled blond locks. “Strange as in unsafe?”
“No.” Robin frowned, grasping for a more accurate word to describe his feelings. “Just strange, and restless. Really restless and uneasy, as if I should be somewhere.”
“Where do you feel you should be?”
Realization hit Robin hard. “I should be with my family. With… with my brother Tim and his mate Jay, the two guys you already met, and Jay’s father Walter.” Robin’s voice took on a shrill note “I need to be with them. Something’s wrong. They’re in danger!”
“We’ll shift and go to your family. I know you’re impatient, but you have to wait until I’ve shifted as well. You will not go without me.” Peter lifted Robin off himself, stood, and started to shift.
Robin shifted in a blink, whining low in his throat when it seemed to take Peter forever to complete his shift. Yet he couldn’t leave the cave on his own. As much as he wanted to run, to get to Tim, Jay, and Walter as fast as possible, Peter’s words went to the core of his being. He could not disobey his mate, even though Peter didn’t exactly put it as a demand for obedience. Robin marched up and down in front of the cave’s entrance, focused on the few crumbled pieces of earth pricking into his paws while he pushed all thoughts aside.
Robin yelped when Peter in his were-bear form nudged Robin aside. He had been so centered on the sensations on the ground that he didn’t know when Peter had completed with his shift. Peter crawled into the path that led outside the cave, then, after deeming the surroundings safe, allowed Robin to follow him.
Outside, Robin danced around Peter, loped both forepaws around Peter’s thick neck, and rubbed their faces together. Pushing away, he ran, certain Peter would come after him.
FROM TIME to time, Robin slowed down, making sure Peter caught up with him. Peter might be insanely strong in his bear form, but he wasn’t fast, at least not over long distances. He made a helluva lot of noise as he crashed through the undergrowth, snapping twigs and branches in his wake, though.
The closer they came to the Coxes’ house, the more Robin’s stomach clenched. When the Coxes’ pastures finally came into view, Robin’s pace changed from a light trot into huge ground-covering leaps. At the edge of the forest, he stopped at the fence and waited for Peter to catch up with him.
Peter hummed low in his throat, summoning Robin closer to him. Robin leaned against one of Peter’s solid forelegs. From this safe place, he swept his gaze around, searching for whatever disturbed him.
There was nothing that would explain his restlessness. All he knew was that he needed to see Tim, Jay, and Walter.
On the far end of the pasture, Robin caught sight of the horses. Some pranced around while some nickered, but all of them displayed high alert and nervousness. They stayed huddled together in a close circle with the two foals in the middle. Why would they protect their young? Ally and Starlight, the big Shire horses, stood close together, their large frames distinctive in the slivers of moonlight.
What is going on here? Robin asked, not expecting an answer.
Peter’s hum grew in volume, then he slung one big forepaw around Robin’s torso, pushing Robin underneath him. Robin cowered underneath Peter’s belly, yipping.
Sheesh, Peter, don’t overdo it with the protection, okay?
On the one hand, he loved the matter-of-factness with which Peter took charge and made sure Robin was safe, but on the other, he couldn’t just act as if it didn’t faze him. Or could he?
Tim’s voice rang in his mind telepathically, Robin? Is that you? Run! Run and find a place to hide!
Tim? Tune it down a bit, will you? Robin replied.
Robin, you have to run. Now! Hide!
What? Why? Tim, what is going on?
Robin pushed out from under Peter’s bulk when the urgency of Tim’s words seeped into him. Peter stared down at Robin, obviously sensing Robin’s preoccupation with something else.
Tim’s voice wavered when he answered, Run! Thompson picked up your scent!
Thompson? What is he doing here?
Goddammit! Robin, run! Walter is dead, Jay is injured, and I don’t want anything to happen to you too! Tim’s voice broke. Robin had to strain his ears to understand Tim’s next words. You might be the only one who’ll survive this. Please run.
Walter is dead?
Robin, please! Tim’s words sounded strangled.
Robin couldn’t process Tim’s words. It just couldn’t be true! Grasping for anything, even though his ability to think was clearly decreased, Robin asked, What about Jay? Does he need my help?
I’m not sure anyone can help him.
What? I’ll come and—
No! You stay away. It is too dangerous. I—
Tim?
When Tim didn’t answer, Robin scurried back and forth, his stomach roiling and churning. All the while Peter observed him, his small black eyes gleaming.
Robin wished desperately Peter could talk to him telepathically, give him some advice how to handle this situation. He needed Peter to guide him, but since that seemed impossible, he snapped, Your inability to speak with me in our animal form is crap, just so you know!
Peter stared at him, silent and unmoving. The sudden howls of several wolves traveled through the chilly night air. Robin stepped closer to Peter, seeking his warmth and strength, hoping Peter would make a decision for both of them.
The long-drawn howls echoed again, issuing a challenge as well as a dark promise. They’d start hunting and wouldn’t rest until they had killed their chosen prey.
Robin froze, unbidden and very vague memories flooding his mind. He’d heard these sounds once in his life before. It was one of the very few memories he had from his early childhood. They were the same eerie howls he’d heard when he and his siblings had fled from the clearing all those years ago, when their mother had been attacked and paralyzed.
Tim? Robin tried again.
He received no answer.
In the distance the horses screamed before the pack leader, which Robin by now recognized as Thompson, howled again. Kill Evans!
Twelve
PETER TENSED, and Robin gazed up at him, wondering if Peter had understood Thompson’s words. He himself wasn’t sure what to think of the command. Did Tim flee and they were hunting him? Or did they really pick up Robin’s scent and were going after him?
Neither option made much sense. He and Tim were pure-blooded werewolves, coming from a long line of alpha wolves. Most creatures wouldn’t be stupid enough to attack them.
Peter left him no time to dwell about what was going on, and part of Robin was glad about it. Peter pushed him into the forest, urging him to go in the direction of their cave. Robin went where Peter shoved him when a keening sound ruptured the night air.
Robin’s hair stood on end. That was Jay—howling in grief.
Reality crashed into Robin. Why would Jay call out like that, letting every wolf in the vicinity know how much he hurt?
Taking a hesitant step toward the Coxes’ house, Robin said, Peter! This is Jay, my brother’s mate! I have to get back!
Peter whirled around quicker than Robin thought possible. He lunged at Robin’s neck, yanking Robin around and dragging him with him. For a moment, Robin held still, too shocked by Peter’s power, then he struggled and cursed.
Peter! Let go! I need to go to him and help him! Come on, please!
Peter ignored him. Robin sensed a pack consisting of six wolves approaching them fast. In a desperate attempt at getting his way, Robin said in a shaky voice, You’re hurting me!
Peter’s hold on him hadn’t been hurtful, just very firm, but his complaint had the desired result. Peter stopped and released his neck. Robin bounced to his feet, jumped out of Peter’s imm
ediate reach, and shook himself. Peter pursued him in an instant, snarling and grumbling.
Backing off, Robin said, I’m sorry, Peter. I have to help him.
Robin turned on his heels, ready to leap back to the Coxes’ house, when the wolf pack sallied out of the undergrowth.
Robin came to an abrupt halt, eying the slavering wolves. He scuttled back a few steps, relieved when Peter towered over him in a protective stance.
Thompson? Is that you? What is going on here? Robin asked the leader of the small pack, a dark gray wolf with a white face, showing his age.
Who is that with you?
Answering a question with a question isn’t very polite, you know, Robin replied.
Thompson didn’t answer telepathically, instead he barked, a low, hoarse-sounding bark. Peter pressed his bulk closer to Robin, fencing him in between his legs. Robin shot a quick glance upward. Peter’s usually black eyes glittered silver, and Robin jerked his gaze back toward Thompson.
Thompson took a step in Robin’s direction, and Peter slung his right forepaw around Robin’s chest, pulling him deeper under his bulky frame. Robin suppressed a surprised yelp. When he peered out between Peter’s forelegs, Thompson tilted his head sideways.
Sweeping his gaze over the other five pack members, Robin struggled to identify any of them. None of them seemed to be easily approachable. They also didn’t seem to like him very much, if their flattened ears and bared teeth were any indication.
The wolves’ appearances were almost identical: dark gray coats with silvery streaks, amber eyes that glowed with a fierce madness. And all of them were big, really big.
Their energy lines were different than those Robin had seen so far. They seemed colorless, only sometimes dark charcoal spots flared up. The lines weren’t smooth and whirling pleasantly around each body; instead some of the lines were torn, barely held together by thin threads and pulsing in strange bursts of black. The sight sickened Robin, and his stomach churned.
Bile rose up in his throat, threatening to overwhelm him, when Thompson repeated his earlier question, Who is that with you?
Secret Energy (Shifters Book 2) Page 8
