by Anya Byrne
Reynard's full lips twisted into a smirk, as if guessing what Remy was thinking. "You know, if your brother gives you trouble, there's always a couch at my place—or a double bed we can share."
He wiggled his brows, and Remy felt his face flame. "Would you stop? One of these days, I'm going to think you're serious."
The man had been flirting with him for years, but they both knew it was just a game. He and Reynard went way back, to a darker time of Remy's life when he'd been actively self-destructive, poisoning himself with things that were actually bad for him. Reynard had stepped in, and his strange concoctions had helped Remy through grief, despair and depression. Sometimes, when Remy felt particularly mischievous, he flirted back, and he'd even managed to get Reynard flustered once or twice.
Of course, that wouldn't happen today. Remy wasn't really in the mood for something like that, although to be fair, his chat with Reynard had already improved his spirits.
Reynard's expression sobered and he briefly squeezed Remy's hand. "Do be careful, will you, Remy?"
Remy nodded, hearing what Reynard wasn't saying. He would not fall back onto his previous addictions. He would not do that to Reynard, or to his brother—no matter how much he and Laurent butted heads these days. "I will. I promise. You know I'm past that."
"I do." Reynard chuckled lightly. "I guess maybe I'm not so different from your brother. I can't help but worry."
Remy just shook his head at Reynard's antics. "Anyway, I should be off. Thanks for this. How much do I owe you?"
Reynard waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. Free of charge for a friend."
Remy didn't bother arguing. He just left a couple of bills on the counter and turned away before Reynard could try to reimburse him. Reynard's spluttering followed him out the door, and he smiled slightly as he turned to walk away from the tea shop.
He never got the chance to take a single step. A strange feeling exploded over him, hot and sudden, burning bright, making his head spin. It reminded him a little of the time Blanchefleur had blinded him, damaging his eyes so badly it had taken him years to start seeing again and decades to actually distinguish colors. To this day, he still wore glasses, not completely healed despite the passage of time. But this was different, to the point where he irrationally suspected the feeling would never truly fade.
A random human ran into him and even if normally, he would have barely felt it, the slight shove was enough to make him lose his balance. He would have undoubtedly fallen, but instead, he landed against a strong, muscled chest. Warm arms wrapped around him, and despite still being in the middle of the street, Remy suddenly felt he was in a world of his own.
Remy's nostrils were invaded by an unfamiliar scent that could only belong to a single person on the entire planet. Dark eyes fixed on his face, and he trembled, not daring to breathe lest he shatter the moment and realize it might all be a dream.
A husky voice sounded in his ear, finally snapping him out of his trance. "Are you all right?"
Remy's face flamed, and he realized he might have embarrassed himself quite badly. Even if he wanted nothing more than to stay in the warm embrace, he had to be rational about this and admit even to himself that... Well, the man in front of him was a stranger. He might have just made the worst possible first impression.
He broke away from the hug and removed his glasses, wiping them on his shirt in a nervous gesture he'd thought he'd mostly gotten rid of. "I'm fine," he managed to reply. "Just... lost my balance there for a minute."
The man nodded, and then, much to Remy's surprise, crouched at his feet. All sorts of inappropriate imagery sprouted in Remy's mind, but as it turned out, the gesture was completely innocent. "You dropped this," his mate—oh, moon be blessed, he had a mate—said as he got up.
Remy stared at the package that was being offered to him and realized that, indeed, he'd lost his recent purchases, the bag with the tea from Reynard's shop.
Their fingers brushed lightly as he automatically reached for it, and he couldn't suppress a slight shudder. A spark of something reckless and beautiful ignited inside him, and he smiled at the other man—no, the other werewolf, his mate. "Could I perhaps interest you in a cup of tea at my place?"
For a few moments, no reply came. His mate watched him with those unfathomable dark eyes, and Remy wondered if he'd somehow insulted the man or made a mistake.
His concern was swept aside when his mate smiled, a wide blinding grin that looked all the more striking against the man's dark skin. "I thought that under such circumstances, coffee was usually the suggestion."
Remy gasped in mock outrage. If someone else had said the words, he might have actually taken offense, but this was his mate—and the teasing glint in the man's eyes prevented any negative emotion.
"I think we'd have to introduce each other before we progress to coffee."
The man let out a startled laugh. "Right. Of course. Where are my manners?"
"You must have dropped them when you picked up my tea," Remy drawled. "But maybe we can fix that. I'm Remy Fitzroy."
The amusement faded off his mate's face. "Baqir."
They stared at each other as the names processed. Remy might not be as well known as his brother in France, but the last name was famous enough that it'd give a well-informed werewolf pause. And Baqir was an unusual enough name for Remy to connect it to a certain someone his brother and Blanchefleur had both mentioned.
Baqir was the silencer who'd contacted the Alpha Gathering and the Maximoff pack with regard to some suspicious events involving the Lone Wolf Pack. Remy hadn't gotten the chance to learn the full details since his brother had sent him away, but it had all been very sketchy and complicated. He was aware that humans had also opened hostilities against the Sidhe, but as far as he knew, this particular silencer hadn't been involved in that. Remy had no idea what could have brought him here, but he suspected it must have something to do with the very same investigation Remy was supposed to be looking into.
"Well... This is somewhat awkward," Baqir said, "and unexpected."
Remy took in the hesitance in the other werewolf's stance and made a split second decision. He grabbed Baqir's arm and started to drag his mate toward his apartment. "Come on. I think it's time to take this out of the open."
Baqir didn't reply, but neither did he protest, and Remy was content enough to wait for privacy. After all, he had some tea to brew—and maybe after that, some coffee.
Chapter Two
Baqir was, for lack of a better word, perplexed. He had forgotten when he'd last experienced genuine shock to this extent. Sure, some things had taken him aback—his brother's mating, the truth behind the Guild Laws—but never like this.
He'd been planning to go see Reynard and see if his long-time acquaintance had any news for him. It was difficult to watch the paranormal underworld, but somehow Reynard managed. Baqir had done him a few favors in the past, covering for him and helping him leave his former position as silencer. But he also knew some things never changed, and Reynard had always been extra keen on taking precautions and being aware of everything that went on around them. After all, it was often the only thing that kept a silencer alive.
He had not expected to run into his mate right in front of Reynard's shop. Given the tea purchase, it wasn't a coincidence, although Baqir had never known Reynard had dealings with the Fitzroy pack.
It was a moot point now, and it mattered little, because Baqir's head was spinning so hard he could do nothing but go along with his mate's choice. He suspected they must look a little funny, the much smaller werewolf effortlessly dragging his unresisting form behind. Baqir congratulated himself for actually managing to say something to his mate before the realization of what was happening finally dawned. But now that it had... He hadn't ever felt so poorly prepared for something in his life.
A mate. Silencers didn't have mates. That had been hammered into his brain for longer than he'd have liked. He now knew it had all been a lie—but to a certain e
xtent, for him it remained the truth. He didn't have a heart that would welcome a mate.
And yet, he didn't break away. He continued to walk, to follow Remy. And wasn't that a kick in the teeth? Out of all the people he could possibly have as a mate, it was the man who had more reason than any other to hate silencers.
Baqir hadn't operated in France, but he knew the story. How could he not? He'd still been fresh in his leadership of the guild at the time, but he'd heard about the young werewolf who'd dug a little too deep into silencer affairs and had paid the price for it.
It hurt his heart to know that Remy had been alone through something so difficult and traumatic. He found himself walking forward and taking Remy's hand, squeezing tightly. He was rewarded with a smile from the smaller werewolf, a sweet expression that made Baqir's stomach flutter alarmingly. He was really in trouble.
He didn't know how much time passed until they stopped in front of an apartment building. Remy's scent distracted him—an unforgivable sin for a silencer. And yet, he couldn't hate himself for it, at least not enough to release his hold on Remy.
His mate didn't seem particularly inclined to let go either. He punched his code in the keypad one-handed and when the door opened, he practically dragged Baqir inside. The security guard at the entrance gave them a curious look, but when Remy nodded and smiled, the man went back to his paper. Baqir mentally frowned. What humans called security would never fail to amuse him. He could already figure out at least three ways to come into the building without being spotted by the security cameras. That was completely unacceptable. His mate wasn't safe here, and that needed to be fixed at once.
The incipient panic faded when Remy pulled him into a spacious elevator. As soon as the door slid shut behind them, Remy crowded him against the wall and pressed their bodies together. "You look like you're plotting something interesting," he whispered against Baqir's lips.
"I was... Not really plotting." Baqir swallowed around the knot in his throat, his head spinning with the desire to have his way with Remy right then and there.
"I'm not sure I believe that," Remy replied, his voice low and smoky. The heat of his body against Baqir's was testing all the restraints Baqir had put into place over decades of being the ruthless leader of a silencer guild. This was absolutely ridiculous. Had his brother felt this way over his mate? If so, Baqir couldn't imagine how Erdi had managed to leave Jensen's side.
He really didn't know what he'd have done had the elevator not deposited them at their destination. Remy pulled away and once more dragged Baqir after him. They stopped in front of a door which Remy quickly proceeded to open. He fumbled a bit with his keys—which was endearing and comforted Baqir slightly—but soon, he had them in the privacy of his home.
Baqir didn't delay in taking advantage of it. As soon as the door closed behind them, he had his mate trapped in his arms and pinned against the solid wood. His body thrumming with desire, he crashed their mouths together, taking what he'd wanted from the moment he'd caught the swaying werewolf in his arms.
Sadly, his enthusiasm clashed with the fact that his mate was still wearing his glasses. Not one to be deterred so easily, Baqir tilted his head and softened the assault. He broke away just long enough to slide the glasses off Remy's nose, and then gently kissed Remy's eyelids.
His mate trembled against him, and Baqir took that as encouragement. He licked over the seam of Remy's lips, and the moan he drew from Remy gave him the opening he needed. As Baqir thrust his tongue into Remy's mouth, Remy wrapped his arms around Baqir's neck. His flavor exploded on Baqir's taste buds, sweet and sharp, wild like the wolves inside them both.
When they broke apart, Baqir wanted nothing more than to take things further, but something held him back. For a few moments, they just stared at one another, still breathing hard, and then Remy wiggled out of his embrace. "Right... Tea."
Tea couldn't have been further from Baqir's mind, but he respected his mate's decision and he knew Remy was right. They had barely exchanged a few words and they didn't know much about one another, only what they'd heard from third parties. While a part of Baqir roared to take what was his, he knew things weren't quite so simple.
Remy stole his glasses back, left his coat on a rack, and ventured further into the apartment. Baqir followed his mate into a wide, open-space kitchen and watched as Remy puttered around through the cupboards. He finally came up with a teakettle and an infuser. With practiced motions, he set the water to boil, and then sat at the counter to face Baqir. He seemed to have composed himself, but his face was still a little red and flushed, and the scent of his arousal lingered in the air. "So... A silencer?" He peered closer to Baqir's face, as if trying to decipher his thoughts. "That's interesting. I don't suppose you're here by coincidence."
"You know I'm not," Baqir replied, not bothering to lie to his mate. "What's happening here concerns all of us, and me in particular."
He probably shouldn't have let that last bit slip, but he was still shaken, and his wolf still craved Remy with a feral greed born out of both instinct and unprecedented emotion. And Remy was far too clever for his own good. "You in particular," he repeated. "And why is that?"
"I have my reasons," Baqir replied, trying not to fall into Remy's eyes—and utterly failing. "Even silencers have things they hold dear."
"Should I be jealous?" Remy leaned in even closer, until their lips were almost brushing.
"Definitely not." Baqir crossed the rest of the distance between them, but didn't kiss Remy again, instead choosing to inhale Remy's scent. "I'm all yours."
His own words surprised Baqir, since he had never thought he had it in him to offer affection of any kind to anyone other than Erdi. It also made him pull away as he realized that he was getting far too caught up in this, in Remy.
He should not be here. He should be talking to Reynard and making a plan that would allow them to handle the unknown threat. Besides, Remy deserved better. He deserved a mate who actually had a heart, someone who was not capable of disfiguring his own brother and killing in cold blood.
Remy must have noticed the change in mood—not that he could have missed it when Baqir tore himself away so abruptly he almost fell off the stool. "What is it?" Remy asked.
"I just..." Baqir got up and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I'm a silencer. I... We're not good for one another, are we?"
Remy didn't immediately reply. He turned away from Baqir and opened the package he'd dropped earlier—which, predictably turned out to be some sort of tea. The strong scent hit Baqir even from where he was standing, but Remy didn't seem surprised.
He added a generous quantity in the infuser, and then poured the now steaming water onto it. Once he was done, he finally faced Baqir again. "Perhaps you're right. These are certainly not regular circumstances. But you won't give up just like that, will you?"
A part of Baqir reminded him that this was a terrible idea. He should not stay. He should not burden Remy with his presence, and his past.
But his yearning for his mate was stronger, and he sat back down, smiling. "Well, you did promise me tea."
****
Remy wondered how an exchange could be both awkward and effortless at the same time. The two should have been mutually exclusive, and yet, he and Baqir managed the incredible achievement of cramming it all into one conversation.
It might have started out as Remy's fault. He was trying hard not to panic, but deep inside, he was mentally flailing, well aware that he had his mate in his apartment. He wasn't too happy about the fact that Baqir was obviously uncertain of their bond—but at the same time, he understood and empathized.
"So how does this work?" he asked as he poured Baqir some tea. "I'm not really familiar with a lot of mated wolves."
Baqir arched a dark brow. "And you think I am?"
Well, no, of course he wasn't. Remy felt sort of foolish for asking. By rights, he should have been the one with the knowledge, but after he'd been blinded, he had mostly belonged to the pack in nam
e alone. No one had rejected him, but he was unwilling to be around other people, since he knew they both pitied him and thought his punishment was well-deserved. His brother was the only one he'd stayed close to, but Laurent didn't have a mate either.
"I suppose things are different for everyone?" he tried.
Baqir opened his mouth to reply, but then he wrinkled his nose as he took in the scent of the tea. "What in the world is in this?"
"I have no idea." Remy laughed. "Moon only knows what Reynard puts in those concoctions of his." Sometimes, it smelled like opium, other times it was kava or even simpler things like lavender. This time around, it was definitely one of the more potent blends.
He could have dropped things there, shrugged off the most difficult part of the explanation. For some reason, he didn't.
"Some time ago, things became very difficult in my life," he said, sobering. "You probably know what I'm talking about. I lost my eyesight."
Baqir nodded and patiently waited for Remy to continue. Oddly, it was easy for him to do so. "I went through a self-destructive stage. At one point, I was willingly dosing myself with silver and wolfsbane, just because it seemed to give me the illusion that I could see."
Baqir's hold on the tea mug tightened so much Remy was surprised it didn't crack. "What happened?"
"Reynard helped me. He found me and helped me curb my addiction. Now, he occasionally supplies me with these special teas. I believe they also serve to heal the damage I myself did on my body, although there's definitely a recreational component."
Baqir didn't ask about Reynard—which made Remy suspect they hadn't really met by coincidence. He didn't even ask about Remy's stint with blindness, something for which Remy was very thankful. Instead, Baqir focused on the tea. "So you can get drunk on this," he guessed.
