Robin clung to Peter’s hand as he guided him to the door, closer to a reality that was overwhelming, and whispered, “Don’t let go, okay?”
“I will not.”
Twenty-Seven
THE RIDE to the small church went by in a blur without anyone talking more than was necessary. They found a free parking spot on the marked parking lot, which wasn’t much more than a free area of grass, situated to an old and untended cemetery.
Tim had to almost carry Jay from the van to the chapel’s entrance, past murmured words of condolences from visitors that drowned out the twittering birds. Jay seemed to shrink into himself or want to crawl into Tim, a desire Robin could sympathize with.
Inside the church, they halted for a moment to give their eyes time to adjust to the dim light. The church was filled with people, but the first row had been left free. Tim straightened up and strode forward. Robin swallowed as the various smells assaulted his nose. His stomach heaved and churned, and he tightened his hold on Peter’s hand as they followed Tim and Jay.
Robin’s gaze darted over the bowed heads of mostly unfamiliar people, the scents of humans and werewolves rising into his nose until his eyes watered from the intensity.
“Peter, what if someone attacks now? There are so many scents in here,” Robin whispered.
“I doubt anyone would attack during the funeral. It’s highly inappropriate.”
“Inappropriate?” Robin hissed. “These people are insane. They killed him because they believed themselves to be superior to hybrids.”
“People fear the unknown.”
“That’s all you have to say?”
Peter whispered into his ear, “My angel, I’m simply stating a fact. I did not say I approve of it. I’ve seen many people die because other people feared them, be it for their religious beliefs, their sexual orientation, their skin color, or the fact they’re not pure-blooded.”
“You’re a very demoralizing kind of guy, did you know that?” Robin said.
“No one will harm Jayden, Timothy, or you. Your father brought people with him, and we have stationed my people at strategically important points. We will protect you here and later on at the cemetery,” Peter said, sounding calm and confident.
Robin tightened his grasp on Peter’s hand as the words brought forth another heavy shiver. They reached the front row, where Jay already sat huddled up against Tim with Ralf on his other side.
Robin’s breath caught at the sight of his friend. Jay’s eyes were bloodshot and swollen. His cheeks showed remnants of hurriedly wiped tears, and his bottom lip quivered. He stared straight ahead, his gaze unfocused, while he clasped one of Tim’s hands with both of his. Tim’s other arm was wrapped around Jay’s shoulder, and Jay leaned into the embrace.
Robin observed Tim’s and Jay’s energy lines swirling in slow motion, the colors dull but the thickness of the lines proving their connection was solid.
When Peter led him to the end of the first bench, Robin stopped. “No fucking way.”
Jay’s head jerked up, and Robin blushed. “Sorry,” he mumbled, then turned toward his father. “Scoot over, I wanna sit next to Jay.”
“I think it’s better if Tim and I sit next to Jay,” Ralf replied.
Jay scowled at Ralf, snagged Robin’s wrist, and pulled. Stumbling, Robin almost fell onto his father’s lap.
“Jay! I really—”
“—don’t care what you believe,” Jay said. “This is my father’s funeral, and I decide who’s sitting next to me. Are we clear?”
Robin didn’t dare look at Ralf’s face. It would either be a stony mask or a furious expression, and Robin didn’t care for either. He squeezed himself between Jay and Ralf, for which he received a grateful look from Jay.
“You don’t look so good,” Jay said.
“Well, I… um, this is…,” Robin stammered.
“Yeah, me too.”
Robin looked at Jay, who already had the blank faraway look back on his face. Gazing over Jay’s head, he made eye contact with Tim, all the while listening to a little scuffle on his other side. Since Peter sat down next to him and draped a heavy arm around his waist, he’d obviously won the argument against Ralf.
How is he? Robin asked.
I don’t know. Sometimes he’s so angry he yells at me for being a pure werewolf, the next moment he has a crying fit, and half an hour later he seems to be almost catatonic. The latter is the worst. He keeps staring at nothing, is unresponsive, and it’s like our bond weakens to the point where I can barely feel it, Tim replied in a rush.
Maybe you should think of getting him to a therapist?
Tim snorted and tucked Jay closer to his side. What’s he going to tell the therapist? I’m angry like hell for other werewolves hating hybrids and killing them? Come on, kiddo, that’s not going to happen. We’ll do it the old-fashioned way. I’ll be there for him, and eventually he’ll come around.
Hesitantly, Robin said, I’m sure there are werewolves who are therapists.
No one comes to my mind.
Maybe Peter knows someone, Robin suggested.
I don’t know if Jay would be receptive to someone from Peter’s clan. After all, he’s angry about their doing nothing too.
Just keep it in mind, Robin said.
I will. How are you holding up?
Fine.
Tim stared at him, his eyebrows rising high. Yeah, right. You’re talking to your big brother here. I can see you shaking and how much you cling to your mate, so cut the crap.
I’m not—
Tim cut him off. Robin!
What?
Do me a favor and don’t play games today.
Robin flinched even though the rebuff had only been a light one. It was probably mostly due to the fact that Tim cut straight to the core. Peter cleared his throat, then whispered, “Everything all right?”
“Sure.”
Peter’s long sigh alerted Robin he’d just been caught lying. Twisting around so he could face Peter, he muttered, “Okay, nothing is all right. We had this talk already, and I don’t want a repeat performance. I—”
Robin stopped himself midstream because the preacher walked up to them, wearing the customary clothes and a somber expression on an otherwise gentle face. He stopped in front of Jay, laid a hand on his shoulder, and bent down. Robin shot Tim a warning glare when the unmistakable rumble of an ascending growl came from him.
Jay lifted his eyes, the pained expression in them causing Robin to avert his gaze.
With his heightened senses, it was almost impossible not to listen to the preacher’s words. Robin was grateful the man didn’t offer platitudes; instead he told Jay he’d start the ceremony now and asked if he wanted to change anything at the last minute. Jay shook his head, obviously putting a lot of effort into keeping his composure.
Tearing up himself, he swallowed several times, but the lump in his throat just grew bigger. He watched with wet eyes as the preacher walked away, while the urge to jump up and run caused him to squirm on the hard bench. Peter gripped his side tighter, the deep pressure of his fingers on Robin’s flesh forcing Robin to focus on something else.
“Do you need me to hold you tighter?” Peter whispered.
“Maybe,” Robin admitted. “I know I should stay here and part of me even wants to be here, but another part—a much bigger part—just wants to make a run for it.”
“I will make sure to help you stay,” Peter said.
“Thanks, Peter. I don’t… I don’t want to disappoint anyone or… or not show Walter my respect.”
Robin jumped when Jay said with acid dripping from his voice, “He’s dead, what does my dad care about respect?”
“From what you and everyone else told me about your father, it can be concluded that he would care about proper etiquette,” Peter cut in.
“Proper etiquette?” Jay said. “What do you care about respect? You and your people are just a sleazy arrogant bunch.”
“Jayden, that’s enoug
h,” Tim said with unexpected firmness in his voice.
Robin stared at Tim, wide-eyed. He’d never heard Tim talk to Jay like that, nor did he imagine Tim would talk to Jay in that way, not ever.
Jay’s mouth fell open, and he tried to push away from Tim. Tim wore a shuttered expression, and only his eyes gave away how fed up he was.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” Jay said.
Robin was fairly sure Jay had aimed for a condescending tone, but the high pitch at the end ruined the effect.
“I get that you’re furious, but neither Peter nor his people are responsible for your father’s death.”
“Right. Pretending nothing is happening or you can’t intervene for whatever paltry excuse just seems to fit automatically absolves you from guilt,” Jay scoffed.
Tim breathed in deeply before yanking Jay back against him. “I’d like to listen to the preacher’s words now. Let’s postpone the fighting for later.”
Robin glanced at Tim’s and Jay’s energy lines and found some of them clashing against each other, as if they were fighting. Most of the lines pulsed steadily, though, the sight relaxing him.
For a couple of minutes Jay’s posture remained stiff and unyielding, but as soon as the preacher started on Walter’s eulogy, he collapsed in on himself.
Robin caught Ralf darting concerned glances toward Jay and Tim when Jay dissolved into tears, accompanied by deep, gut-wrenching sobs. Ignoring people’s startled looks, Tim pulled Jay into his lap, where Jay pressed his face against Tim’s chest to muffle his sobs.
Wishing he could do the same but realizing this was not the place for him to break down, Robin leaned back into Peter’s embrace. He absorbed Peter’s warmth and solidness and thanked whomever for his family being alive and Peter being with him.
THE SERMON went by in a blur for Robin, even though he tried his best to pay attention. He became aware of Jay’s sobs tapering off after a while, but he didn’t dare steal a glance at him.
Only when the sermon ended and everyone stood to follow the casket out to the cemetery did Robin look over to him. Jay’s face was white, mottled with red spots and dried tear streaks. Even with Tim’s supportive arm around his waist, Robin could see how much effort Jay had to put into staying upright. Jay’s legs shook visibly, and his teeth chattered.
Peter pulled Robin up from the bench behind Tim and Jay. Ralf walked right behind them together with Lance, both of them alert and observing.
Would anyone be so cruel and attack them during the funeral? It was an unbearable notion. He didn’t want to believe anyone would, but these people were driven by motives far beyond his understanding. The only thing thwarting them from attacking was probably the huge crowd of people and the fear of being outed as werewolves.
Jay stumbled, and Tim’s iron grasp kept him on his feet. Jay’s misstep drew Robin out of his disturbing thoughts. It also allowed him to realize how brightly colored the trees were: red, green, golden, yellow, orange—a spectacle of colors all around them. The sunrays tinted everything in a warm glow, but the warmth didn’t reach Robin.
It didn’t seem right. This was a funeral; the weather should have been rainy or at least overcast with a dreadful gray sky hanging above them.
I feel like the weather is mocking us, he told Peter, for the first time not minding that Peter couldn’t answer him telepathically.
Peter squeezed his hand and rubbed his thumb over the knuckles while they slowly proceeded to Walter’s final resting place. Robin held firmly on to Peter’s hand. He tried to loosen his grip, but it was to no avail. His fingers clenched more firmly around Peter’s, as if he subconsciously feared the world would end if he let go.
Am I… am I hurting you? I can’t seem to loosen my hold.
Peter looked at him, smiled, and shook his head.
That’s good. That’s really good because I really can’t let go. What if we’re stuck together forever? What if I can’t—
“Robin,” Peter whispered. “Hold on as tight as you want.”
By the time they reached Walter’s grave, Robin was light-headed and trembling, but he didn’t question if it was appropriate for him to wrap his arms around Peter’s waist and cling.
When the crowd had spread around the open grave and the silence became oppressive, the preacher recited a short passage from the Bible. The pallbearers lowered the casket into the earth, ripping a loud sob from Jay’s throat.
Tears ran down Robin’s cheeks as Tim guided Jay to his father’s grave, where he handed Jay a single white lily. Jay twirled the flower in his shaking hands before he crouched down at the grave’s edge. Tim lowered himself next to him, still keeping a firm grip on Jay.
Robin opted for watching Tim’s and Jay’s energy lines instead of looking at Tim trying to cajole Jay to let go of the flower. All lines were intact, and no struggles or fights were visible.
He was so absorbed in the throbbing lines that he never saw Jay throwing the flower. Only when Peter urged him to go forward and pick up a lily himself did he realize Tim was standing aside with Jay in his arms. Robin fingered the stem of the lily, unsure if he should say something or not.
Peter threw his flower first and simply said, “Be well.”
Robin followed Peter’s example but stayed silent. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he felt, but his lips remained sealed. He couldn’t bring himself to talk now, not with all these unfamiliar people around him. He would come back later and on his own to bid his farewell. Maybe he’d take Peter with him, just to be on the safe side.
He gave Peter’s hand a quick squeeze, indicating he was done and ready to step away from the grave. As they walked away, Robin glanced back over his shoulder and into Walter’s grave. Four white lilies lay on the dark casket, the contrast in colors harsh and biting.
The overwhelming urge to run caused Robin to walk faster. Away, he just wanted to be away from the hurt, the grief, and the unknown.
Twenty-Eight
The next day
ROBIN DIDN’T remember how they had survived the day before. He did know the word survive was the most fitting to describe what happened after the funeral.
At first, Jay had been silent, staring blankly at nothing and going wherever Tim steered him. He shook hands mechanically, mumbled thank you to whomever came up to him and gave him their condolences. He even stayed that way on the ride home. As soon as he set foot inside the house, everything went downhill—fast.
Within minutes he took offense to just about everything: who was inside the house, what the people were wearing, what they were or were not saying, and in the midst of it all, he threw a spectacular tantrum that went as far as accusing Ralf of being a murderer or at least an accomplice in the murders of hybrids.
At that moment, Robin had feared for Jay’s safety, but to his astonishment, Ralf had endured the accusations. When he didn’t engage, Jay’s fury shifted to Peter, whom he accused of the same thing. Peter reacted in the same, calm way as Robin’s father, while Tim tried to reason with Jay.
Most people fled the house and pretended to be busy, which left only a handful of people inside. Will was one of the first people to take refuge outside, though Robin was sure it was mostly because he feared Shawn would snap at Jay.
Robin didn’t blame Shawn for his reaction. As much as he sympathized with Jay, the accusations were hurtful and didn’t change the fact that Walter was gone. On the other hand, he also knew Jay was tangled up in a world of anger and pain, lashing out at the people that were still here with him since he couldn’t scream at Walter.
Late in the afternoon, Jay had broken down in tears. Tim carried him upstairs, and neither man had been seen for the rest of the evening. Robin had been grateful and at the same time guilty about his relief.
After a quick and mostly silent dinner, he and Peter had gone upstairs and climbed into bed. He’d snuggled up to Peter, rubbing circles on his belly before he fell asleep.
NOW PETER was wrapped around his back, a ha
rd erection pressing into the cleft of Robin’s ass. Peter’s hand traced a circular pattern on his belly.
“Morning,” Robin said.
“Good morning, my angel.”
Robin wiggled his ass against the stiff cock behind him. Peter groaned and pressed an openmouthed kiss on Robin’s right shoulder. Peter moved his hand and rubbed his thumb over Robin’s cockhead, causing his cock to harden even further.
“I want you to fuck me,” Robin murmured.
A small voice in the back of his head whispered how this wasn’t right, how he shouldn’t go on with his life and enjoy while Jay suffered. However, the urgent need to feel Peter’s hands on him, to be intimate with him, cut the small voice off.
“Do you really want that?” Peter asked.
Robin grasped Peter’s hand in his own and closed it around his engorged cock before he pushed in and out of Peter’s grip several times. Sweat coated his back when he replied, “Does that answer your question?”
“No.”
“No?” Robin stopped and turned around to face Peter. “What else do you need? A contract? What?”
“Do you wish to have a contract?” Peter stared at him with a puzzled look on his face.
“What? No! You really need to chill a bit and not take everything I say literally.”
“I don’t understand why you can’t just say what you mean. It makes matters unnecessarily complicated.”
“Aw, my big bear, are you pouting?”
Peter’s mouth fell open, and his eyes dilated in obvious surprise. For a moment, Robin managed to keep a straight face, but then he dissolved into giggles. “Oh sheesh! Your face—priceless!”
“I shall teach you a lesson,” Peter replied.
He rolled them over so Robin was trapped underneath him. Robin spread his legs to accommodate Peter, still giggling. Batting his eyelashes, he asked, “Oh, I’m so afraid of the big bad bear! No, wait, isn’t it the big bad wolf? Doesn’t really matter, huh? Since you’re both, right?”
Secret Energy (Shifters Book 2) Page 20
