He stepped through the threshold into Christian's room and it was only his shifter senses that alerted him to an item singing through the air. Derrick ducked, and the item flew out the door, slamming into the hallway wall. He stepped all the way in and shut the door behind him before a stray, innocent passerby could be pegged.
"Christian," he said his hands up in surrender. "You're mad."
If Derrick had expected Christian to transform into a wilting flower, he would have been disappointed. Christian stood squarely on the other side of the room with a strong stance. His muscles tensed as he faced off with Derrick. His shoulder and arm muscles bunched as he held what looked like a shoe over his head.
Christian released it like a major league pitcher and Derrick jumped out of the way, watching it bounce off the wall and hit the carpet.
"Please, Christian, talk to me. Tell me what you are thinking." Three more items sailed toward him. The last one, a book, clipped Derrick's shoulder. "Okay, you got me. I'll stand still and let you pelt me with anything in this room if you will tell me what is going on in your head."
"You have a fiancee, Derrick."
"Yes, technically, but—"
"No buts. We just had sex in a swamp. I gave you a blowjob in a bathroom." As he spoke, his words came out faster. He never got louder, though. "You've made me the other man. I am not that man. I won't be your piece on the side."
Derrick took a step toward Christian but halted. "I haven't made you the other anything. It isn't the way you think. I've only spoken to Bridgette a handful of times. Ten at the most. I swear, Christian."
"What? How are you engaged, then?"
"Our families, they've been fighting over territory for years. The Robichauds have always controlled the bayou, but the Babineauxes have always had a hold on the northern land just above. They've tried to transition down just as we've tried to expand up. It's been bloody, and it didn't look like it was ever going to get better. So our fathers came together and decided on a marriage pact."
Christian shook his head back and forth. "This isn't real. This isn't something that actually happens to people."
"But shifting into a wolf is the fact that you just accept blindly? How is this all that different?"
Christian deflated and took a seat on the edge of the mattress. Derrick moved as close as he dared.
"I don't know what to say to you, Derrick. I don't know what I'm thinking." Christian sounded so lost, it killed him.
"Then don't say anything. I was trying to tell you earlier. I didn't want you to find out this way."
"No," Christian said sharply. "Earlier, you were trying to run."
"Yes, but after that. After that, I decided once and for all that I can't go through with it. Not now that I have you."
"You don't have me, Derrick. Besides, you already said that people are dying, getting hurt. You can't turn your back from that." Christian jerked his head up. "Is that why you were outside my apartment building? Is that why you drowned yourself in so much booze that you couldn't see straight? Derrick. Why didn't you tell me this all sooner?"
Because I was afraid you wouldn't come. Because I was scared you would leave. Because I needed you. "Because I'm going to fix it."
"There's no way. Not if you want to be able to walk straight, with your head held high."
Derrick couldn't stand the hopeless sadness in Christian's tone. He reached forward, trying to put a comforting hand on Christian's shoulder. The moment his fingers brushed against him, Christian jumped up like Derrick's hand was a hot iron.
"Don't," Christian said, sounding betrayed. "Don't make this worse."
Derrick wasn't sure how this could get worse. He knew what steps to take with his father, but what would he do to help Christian? How could he assure him that there was no affection between him and Bridgette? That their relationship was absolutely business. Christian offered him no clues and stood just out of his reach with a far off expression. "Don't shut me out, Christian. Tell me what you're feeling."
Christian blinked a couple of times as if remembering where he was and who he was with. "What am I feeling?" He stepped away from Derrick, one tiny backward step at a time. Derrick loathed those little steps, the distance it put between them. "I'm feeling mad… confused… sad." He turned all the way around, grabbing a bundle of clothes. "I'm going to take a shower. Alone."
Derrick watched Christian step through the door to his en-suite bathroom. Christian didn't slam the door or yell. He simply shut it behind him, the lock clicking closed with a muted sound.
The moment the bathroom door locked Derrick began pacing the room. He wasn't sure how he'd kept his wolf from taking over, from shifting. But, his wolf wasn't thinking straight. Right now, his wolf wanted Derrick to break through the door and claim the man on the other side.
Derrick's inner wolf had never been so single-minded. Before, Derrick had lived in perfect harmony with his inner beast. He allowed it out when it wanted out, and Derrick got to enjoy all the perks that came with following your basic urges. Now, he was in the unique position of being unable to trust his inner companion. His wolf wanted Derrick to have his cake and eat it, too. His wolf was selfish, but on one point, they agreed. Christian was his. Derrick just had to convince Christian of that.
Derrick tiptoed to the bathroom door, feeling like a louse for eavesdropping but not enough to stop. He even shifted, careful to keep absolute control over his actions, so his hearing would be stronger. He quickly realized he didn't need to shift to hear Christian, desperately trying to be quiet. There was no mistaking the soft sounds of the other man crying. Derrick whined. He padded back away from the door and sat by Christian's bed, curling up on the carpet there, he set his head on his front two paws and waited.
#
Christian cleaned up quickly but stayed for longer in the shower, letting his stupid tears dry. He didn't cry. Not when his dad abandoned him or when he was left to live all by himself. The last time he had cried was at his mother's funeral, and there had been a reason for that. This was not a reason. It was a freaking soap opera. One that he was more than ready to exit out of. He pulled on clean clothes and stepped out of the bathroom, a billow of steam behind him.
He should have been surprised to see a gigantic, dark wolf sleeping on his floor, but he didn't even look twice at it. "I think you will understand that I need to go now."
The wolf picked its head up and whined.
"I don't speak dog," Christian said.
The wolf growled.
The sound sent a thrill through Christian, but he pretended to be unaffected. "Are you going to bite me because I don't fall over myself to please you? I don't think you really needed me to be your PR adviser, Derrick. You have everyone here wrapped around your finger. The glorious finger of the prince of the bayou. You brought me out here under false pretenses. That makes you an even bigger asshole in my mind, knowing what I was walking into without telling me. Just get the fuck out of here, before I gather more things to throw. Or would that work in your favor since you'll just start playing fetch?"
The wolf barked. Christian thought if he could speak wolf he'd know what four letter word that bark had meant.
"I want to go home. You said I could go home whenever I wanted. Is that still true?"
The Derrick wolf sat on his haunches and gave a very humanlike nod.
"Then give me my money, and I will go." Christian heard the sadness in his own voice, but it wasn't something that he was able to hide right now. Part of him didn't want to mask it. That part of him wanted Derrick to hurt as much as he was hurting. Which was probably why Christian kept insisting on going home. If the idea of returning home hurt Derrick as much as it was hurting Christian right now than it would be nearly excruciating. This wasn't a normal emotional reaction, Christian knew. It was as if his body required Derrick's company on a cellular level.
The dark wolf padded forward towards him. To call him just a wolf really wasn't fair. Its head reached Christian's chest wit
hout even standing up on its hind legs. Christian thought he should be afraid. The wolf's jaws could easily do some terrible and irreversible damage. But, when he looked into its eyes he saw only Derrick, and he couldn't be scared, only sad.
When Christian didn't move, the wolf nudged him on the bottom of his hand with his nose. He gave a soft whine and motioned for Christian to pet his head. Christian rolled his eyes. He'd always been a sucker for animals. Dogs especially. He touched the top of the Derrick wolf's head, amazed by how soft his fur was.
"You know, you're kind of cute like this. Can't you just stay in this form forever?"
Derrick gave a short, very puppy-like yelp. It sounded playful and fun and had a grin forming on Christian's lips.
"This isn't fair, Derrick," Christian said, forcing his lips into a straight line. "You're hiding from me in this form. Don't think I don't realize that. It's a shitty thing that you did, and you don't want to have to 'fess up. I don't even get why you want me here. You don't need a PR advisor, everyone on the bayou would eat out of your unwashed hand if you told them to. And you can't want… a relationship with me. You're engaged. Did you expect me not to care? I'm not that type of person. Marriage means something to me." Christian stopped talking so that he wouldn't cry. How had he fallen so hard so quickly? He was always doing this, not realizing what he wanted until he couldn't have it anymore.
Now that it wasn't an option, all he was imagining was that sunny trip with coconut drinks that he would never take. He sat down on the carpet. Derrick moved next to him.
Derrick's form rippled like watching your own reflection in calm water distort until Derrick the man sat beside him. Completely, gloriously, beautifully naked and with a sheepish expression. "I'm sorry," he said with a particularly deep voice. "Habit from my younger days."
"Ya, well, I'm not your mom and you can't just cute yourself out of this trouble."
"I know. I'll say it again. I'm sorry. But you are also wrong. I do need you here. I don't want to be the old me, the Prince of the Bayou. I want to be professional and friendly. Maybe not like everyone's best friend but…better than I am. I do want to be your best friend, though, because I'm pretty sure you are mine. Is that so pathetic? I don't care. You're my best friend, and you said you'd stay until the Jubilee. Please, Christian. Please?"
Christian was hardly able to keep from reaching out and stroking the other man. A motion similar to what he'd done while Derrick had been in wolf form, but with entirely different intent. Derrick seemed utterly unashamed to be sitting in his birthday suit next to him. "Don't say that," Christian murmured.
"What? That you're my best friend? You are. You talk back to me and tell me when you think I'm being an asshole. You want to help me, and you're fucking sexy as hell. Goodness knows I wouldn't have an ugly best friend."
"You are such a dick."
"See? I do need you. And I'm going to solve everything. You just have to give me time and trust. You can leave, if you want, but I would rather you didn't."
Christian sighed and nodded. He would stay a little longer. Of course, he would. It was truly amazing how quickly it had happened, how quickly Christian had found himself wrapped around the finger of the prince of the bayou.
#
Derrick found Christian out on the veranda. If he wanted to be technical about it, he didn't actually find Christian rather he followed the sounds of two people having an argument. One was his Christian, the other his Mémé. For some reason, the two of them had gotten really close, if by really close you meant they seemed to enjoy fighting with each other over really small things.
Derrick stopped just outside the doorway, partially hidden by the flowing curtains and listened. Neither of the two seemed to notice him yet. Christian only had human senses, and his Mémé's shifter senses had dulled a lot over the years. That was a great thing for Derrick. It used to be that he couldn't get away with a single thing around her.
"What's that smell?" Christian asked her suddenly.
Mémé muttered something rude back.
"I thought little old ladies were full of sugar and kindness. Is that meanness the shifter in you?" Christian said with zero ill intent.
"We both know you don't know nothing about ladies."
Christian laughed. Derrick smirked, endlessly glad that these two people, maybe his favorite two people, were getting along.
"I guess you got me there," Christian said. "Though, these days I don't think I can claim to know much about guys either."
Derrick grimaced. He should turn around and let Christian have this talk that he was clearly not meant to hear.
"Oh, you don't worry your little head about that. Mates fight. They're bound to. Especially in the beginning."
Derrick could see in his head how red Christian's cheeks probably were, the sheepish look in his gray eyes. "Oh, uh…Mémé…I don't think. I mean, mating…uhh—" It sounded like he was about to have a mortification induced stroke.
"Shush your face. I'm not talking about what you and my grandson do when ya's groaning and grunting in the mud."
"That is a gross reduction—"
"I'm talking about the shifter's gift. A mate. Shifters grow up hoping to meet that one person meant for them. That's a force stronger than biology or physical actions. It's destiny."
Derrick froze. Obviously, he'd heard the tales of shifters who'd taken mates. Like a human's version of soulmates, but more solid. Binding. It was a fantasy, though. Mates weren't the usual in his pack. It hadn't been the case for his parents or his grandparents, or anyone he'd met.
"A Robichaud hasn't been granted that gift in a very long time."
"I don't understand, Mémé."
"You don't have to. You're mated all the same. A few minutes ago? When you asked about that smell? That was you sensing your mate was near. Just as I heard his sneaky breathing the entire time he's been hiding behind that curtain thinking I wasn't wise on it."
Derrick had to fight the urge to run like he would have as a child getting caught with his finger in the pie. He still almost did. Then he heard his Mémé.
"Come on out, boy."
He sidestepped out from behind the curtain and stood in the doorway to the veranda, his hands firmly shoved into the deepest depths of his pockets.
"Now you listen to me. You're a grown man. You're an alpha. You're gonna be this pack's alpha, but you are also your mate's alpha. That doesn't mean you can just order him around. It means you take care of him and if you do, you will both have more happiness than you can imagine. If you don't, this mating bond will destroy both of ya's." She left Christian as he was giving Derrick the mean eye.
"How long were you standing there?" Christian asked him.
Derrick couldn't lie, especially not now that he had a word for how he felt about Christian. Mates. Mated. Christian was his mate. The realization filled him with happiness and fear. What if he screwed it up? Christian had just recently stopped demanding to leave. That couldn't be the best way to start off.
"Since it was established you don't know anything about ladies," Derrick said.
"So you heard what she said, about us?"
He nodded.
"What does it mean? Is it why I feel—the way I feel? How does it change us?"
Derrick held back showing his relief at Christian's admission, that he felt similarly to how Derrick did. "I don't know."
"Is that what happened to Finn?"
"I don't know," Derrick repeated. Though, the idea of Finn being mated off would be a relief to his own self.
"What do you know?" Christian asked, annoyed and exasperated.
Derrick got as near to Christian as he dared. He longed to pull him in and hold him against his chest. Just feeling Christian's skin against his own would help. But he didn't need shifter senses to detect the turbulent waves of emotion coming off of the other man.
"I know this is new for me too. Shifter mating, as far as I've been told that's an old wive's tale. But also, giving a shit. It's all
new for me."
"Do you want a medal?"
"No, but I want some patience on your part. And some understanding."
"I'm still here aren't I?"
Derrick clenched his teeth. Yes, for now, his mate was still here. He couldn't think about where he might be tomorrow.
Chapter 14
Christian pressed his back against the wall to make room for a delivery man who carried bushels of white hydrangea table toppers. In his head, he'd imagined the jubilee as more of a whiskey and banjos type of thing. It was turning into quite the opposite.
It had morphed into such an affair that Christian was sure he didn't have anything appropriate to wear. He hadn't packed any tuxes. He didn't own any tuxes.
Uncle Dante walked by him without a second glance. That wasn't unusual. All of Derrick's family, including both of Derrick's parents, dealt with Christian's continued presence by pretending he didn't exist. Only Mémé acknowledged him, and if it wasn't to make cryptic statements about his relationship with her grandson, then it was to say something smart ass about his personality.
What was unusual was when Uncle Dante stopped as if remembering something and doubled back to where Christian did his best to stay out of everyone's way.
"Are you going tonight?" he asked, sounding on edge and standing weirdly close.
"I told Derrick I would," Christian replied.
Uncle Dante looked him over. "Are you doing something differently? A new bath wash?"
"I don't use bath wash." He totally did but didn't want to tell Derrick's uncle about his toiletries. This other man had ignored him when he could have been friendly, or at least nice, to Christian. Christian didn't want to answer any of his questions quickly.
The older shifter leaned in and inhaled. His eyes fluttered close as if Christian was a delicious smelling meal.
From across the room, a sharp snarl cut towards him. One of the maids dropped a vase she'd been holding, and it shattered against the hard marble floor. Uncle Dante stepped away from Christian quickly. Derrick slid into the open space between them.
Wolf's Mate Mpreg Romance Box Set Page 26
