by Anya Byrne
Teresa scowled at Ward, but he was too tired to get angry with her. "Would you rather tell all your friends that she killed your husband and tried to do the same to both of us because she was in love with me?"
Teresa didn't reply, so Ward reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers. "I know this isn't easy, but you have a child to worry about. Vera and Peter are both gone. The best thing we can do is start over."
Thankfully, his sister must have agreed with that, because after a brief moment of hesitation, she nodded. "You're right. It's just... hard to accept."
She had no idea, and still didn't realize exactly what had happened. The Lone Wolf Pack had quickly swept in to do damage control. Erdi was apparently quite good at that, and he had mysterious contacts who could help them handle the eviscerated bodies. The pack had also been the one to help all of them clean up and eliminate the traces of Mathias's involvement in the battle.
Peter and Vera were a different story, which was why Ward had decided to convince Teresa—the only other person who knew about it—to keep the truth from everyone. If not for her, the Lone Wolf Pack could have made sure the bodies were never found, but Teresa would have never agreed with that, so Ward hadn't even suggested it. They'd settled on reporting the murder of the two without mentioning the fact that Vera had been the one to kill Peter—or in fact, that Vera had ever kidnapped either of them.
It was a good thing that Teresa still cared about what people thought, because telling human authorities about everything that had happened would have made hiding the truth at least ten times more difficult. "I'll do it," Teresa said, "for my baby."
She pressed a hand to her stomach and Ward felt a pang of anxiety. He barely managed to keep himself from mimicking the gesture. Mathias had assured him their baby was fine, but it wasn't that easy to get over the episode.
It took forever for everything to be dealt with. Between conversations with the local authorities and his recurring memories of earlier events, he had trouble keeping himself from collapsing into a sobbing heap. It was only Mathias's presence and the bond they shared that kept him from succumbing to his shock and grief.
Finally, that evening, Ward and Mathias made their way home. They'd left Teresa in Willow Cove, under the careful watch of Erdi, and with the company of Gavin's mother, Alicia. Their parents would be arriving the next day to make funeral arrangements for both Peter and Vera.
Meanwhile, the rest of the Lone Wolf Pack had retreated to their own home since they still had two newborns to worry about. Ward was happy they'd helped for as long as they had—their affection meant a lot—but now he needed some time alone with his mate.
He should have probably supported Teresa more, but he simply couldn't take it any longer. The moment they entered the house, Ward made a beeline for the couch and collapsed on the soft pillows, physically and emotionally exhausted.
Mathias joined him and Ward instinctively curled against his mate, setting his head down on Mathias's thigh. His lover caressed his hair so softly, with an almost excruciating gentleness. Those same hands had torn people apart mere hours earlier, but Ward only found comfort in them, and in their strength.
Mathias's touch broke through the sketchy barriers that had been keeping Ward's pain at bay. He allowed himself to mourn, and as his tears fell, soaking the material of Mathias's pants, he was torn between a million conflicting emotions.
Vera's death. Mathias's secret. The pregnancy. How was he supposed to handle it all? He'd lost a dear friend, in more than one way, but he'd also realized he carried a new life inside himself, and that was beautiful, if scary.
Mathias didn't try to shush him, and instead let him cry, his caresses exorcising Ward's chaotic feelings. Finally, when Ward's sobs died down, Mathias murmured, "I'm sorry, Ward. I'm so sorry."
Ward wiped his eyes and stole a glance at his mate. "What for? It wasn't your fault."
"It was." Mathias's jaw tightened. "You were targeted because of what I am. Vera became involved in all of this because of what I am. I should have never—"
The self-loathing Ward had sensed earlier came back with a vengeance, polluting their bond. Ward got up and grabbed Mathias's wrists. "Stop. Vera made her own choices, and I don't blame you for what happened. I don't even understand why they wanted you to begin with."
"It's that... other form. I think that there's been some restlessness among the humans, and I suspect they're preparing for a more widespread confrontation. The wolf-man is very unusual, very powerful, and very dangerous. It would have made for a lethal weapon."
Ward crawled into his mate's lap, shamelessly exploiting the knowledge of the comfort his proximity gave to his lover. "You're not a weapon, Mathias," he whispered. "You're not a monster, and it wasn't your fault."
Mathias shot him a tremulous smile. "I'm a terrible mate, aren't I? I should be the one comforting you, and instead, you're the one doing it for me."
Ward rolled his eyes. "This comfort thing goes both ways. You're going to have to get used to me doing it, because you're not leaving me, not after you knocked me up."
Mathias blinked owlishly, and under different circumstances, the expression would have looked hilarious. "Right... The baby."
Ward waited for his mate to say something else, but Mathias just kept looking at him, scanning his face like he'd never seen Ward before. Ward arched a brow. "You know, I was hoping for a little more enthusiasm," he admitted, "and maybe some explanation on what exactly we'll do from now."
"Sorry," Mathias whispered again, but this time he was smiling. He rubbed his thumb over Ward's lower lip and caressed his neck, as if in an attempt to capture Ward's voice. "It just occurred to me that our baby is probably why you could talk to me telepathically."
That wasn't the whole of it, though. The reminder that Ward was carrying a child came with flashes of the battle, of Ward falling with a bullet hole in his chest, his mental screams echoing in Mathias's ears. It was a little weird to register that train of thought—the mind reading thing would take some getting used to—but Ward decided he welcomed it. God only knew they needed the closeness.
"I'm here," he murmured. "I'm not going anywhere. You kept me safe. You saved us."
In response, Mathias wrapped an arm around his waist and lifted him off the couch. Ward reveled in the comfort of his mate's embrace, but he also wanted to offer comfort in turn. He kept whispering in Mathias's ear, and he himself couldn't process everything he was saying. Maybe it wasn't for Mathias's sake after all. God only knew he needed to anchor himself in the present, to be one hundred percent sure this wasn't a dream.
Mathias obviously realized this, and he realized that words weren't the best way to accomplish it. Before Ward even knew what was going on, Mathias was setting him down on his—no, their—bed. Ward had no idea at what point his mate had managed to carry him to the bedroom, but it didn't really matter, because then, Mathias kissed him.
The moment their mouths met, Ward allowed himself to let go, to discard the weight that had settled on him and just be. He parted his lips for Mathias's invasion, and his mate eagerly took him up on his invitation. Their tongues dueled in a battle that neither of them won, but that they both needed regardless. Mathias's taste was just as addicting as ever, and now, it was also a refuge.
They'd done this so many times, kissing in bed, exploring one another with a greed born out of the ever increasingly strong connection between them. They'd been so happy. They still could be. Mathias was safe, and so was Ward. They could rebuild, start over. This, what they had here—it was genuine, true, fierce and powerful, and it would not falter.
The realization made passion and desperation rise through Ward. He clawed at Mathias's borrowed tee, needing the material off, needing skin to skin so much it hurt. He wasn't really successful in his endeavor, but his mate did better. Buttons popped and seams ripped as Mathias tore off Ward's shirt. His hot hands traveled over Ward's skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake.
Ward never wanted to
stop kissing Mathias. If he spent the rest of his life lost in this kiss, it was fine by him. Still, when Mathias shoved him down onto the pillows, he went along with it, if only because he needed to breathe. Damn pesky oxygen, getting in the way of what he wanted. His lungs might be protesting, but he didn't care. If Mathias didn't touch him again soon, he'd go insane.
Thankfully, the time for waiting was over. Mathias took a few moments to tear off his own shirt, then fell upon Ward with a snarl that echoed the bright need curling inside Ward. Their mouths collided again, so viciously Ward tasted blood. Mathias's claws took care of the rest of their clothes, and Ward remained aware enough of it to force off his shoes.
After that, everything drifted into a mess of moans, caresses and breathless grunts. Between kisses, they whispered each other's names, and that was probably the only thing anchoring Ward within his identity as a person. Right then and there, he was Mathias's Ward, and he didn't want to be anything different.
But instead off sating their hunger, their touches seemed to have a counterproductive effect. Mathias grew even more frantic, his clawed fingers tearing into the mattress. Ward wasn't doing much better, dizzy with need, with the desperate more-more-more that threatened to choke him.
Did that train of thought really belong to Ward, or was it Mathias's? Ward couldn't really tell. He just knew something was different about the two of them. The wolf-man Mathias had unleashed was still there, underneath the surface, making his mate's instincts stronger, hungrier.
Just as this realization dawned, Mathias suddenly gripped his wrists and pinned his arms over his head. His handsome features were twisted into a snarl that should have been threatening, but somehow came out pained. His cheekbones seemed sharper somehow, and his previously smooth skin was covered in a dusky layer of hair. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, and his voice came out in a growl, barely human.
"You won't," Ward assured his mate, his heart hammering not in fear, but in arousal. "I trust you."
And he did trust Mathias, beyond anything and anyone he'd ever known. No matter what shape Mathias took, his soul was the same, and it recognized and knew Ward in a way that could never be denied or forgotten.
As expected, his trust was not misplaced, because Mathias didn't shift further. He took a deep breath, and the wild litany buzzing at the back of Ward's mind seemed to calm a little. That was a good thing, because Ward really wanted to make love to his mate, and he wasn't sure he was compatible with the wolf-man. The spirit might have been willing, but the flesh was weak, and it hadn't skipped Ward's attention that Mathias's middle form had been remarkable in size... everywhere. Ward might have gotten used to a regular and enthusiastic sex life, but even he was not ambitious enough to try his hand—or his ass—at a cock that was so big.
In the end, he didn't have to, because Mathias released Ward's wrists. Some sort of instinct made Ward keep them in place, and he waited patiently while his lover found the lubricant. As Mathias uncapped the tube, Ward spread his legs, wordlessly encouraging Mathias to take what he—no, what they both—craved.
He was rewarded by a low, appreciative growl, an animalistic sound that swept over him like a caress. Magic pulsed through their connection, awakening every atom in Ward's body, making him even more aware of Mathias's presence, of his strength, his scent, his heartbeat. He couldn't help but whimper at the sensations. "Please. I need you, Mat—"
He didn't get to finish the phrase, because his mate was already thrusting two slick fingers inside him. They were no longer clawed, but neither did they feel completely human either. The delicious disconnect fed the flame of Ward's desire, because if there was any particular moment when Ward truly felt closest to Mathias, it had to be this one.
Ward wouldn't have deemed it possible, not after everything they had shared already, but there it was. He hadn't realized it until now, but a part of Mathias had always been shut to him, and maybe to Mathias himself. No longer. Everything was wide open between them—no more barriers, no more secrets.
It was nearly overwhelming to think about, so Ward didn't think. He just felt, surrendered to his needs and his instincts, just like Mathias did. His decision encouraged Mathias, and if he'd thought his lover's previous ministrations had been passionate, they were nothing compared to what happened next.
The world became of blur of kisses pressed to every inch of skin within Mathias's reach. He moved so fast that Ward's senses had trouble registering it. One moment, his free hand was tweaking Ward's nipple, and the next it was on his cock. His mouth trailed over Ward's body so quickly that he truly seemed to have more than one. On occasion, the kisses were replaced by sharp, biting nips, and the slight pain somehow translated into feverish ecstasy, Ward's confused nerve endings unable to tell the difference.
All the while, Mathias crooked his fingers inside Ward, mercilessly working his prostate. Soon, Mathias had him practically in tears. He'd tried to keep his wrists up like before, but he couldn't muster enough control for it, and he reached out for his mate, clinging to Mathias's shoulders in the hope of finding an anchor, something that would keep him from shattering or falling apart in a world that was quickly dissipating around him.
His touch had an unexpected side-effect. It almost seemed to flick a switch inside Mathias, because the next thing he knew, the man was flipping Ward on all fours on the bed. Ward didn't really want to lose sight of his mate's face, and it didn't help that Mathias's fingers had abandoned his body as well. He tried to catch his breath, to find a way to convey that message—but as it turned out, he didn't have to.
Mathias's large hands landed on his hips, holding him in place. The head of his dick nudged Ward's hole, and it might have been Ward's impression but it seemed a bit bigger than before—maybe not wolf-man big, but definitely different in a way that Ward would feel.
He wasn't afraid. If he could have, he'd have pushed his ass out to show that, but he was effectively pinned to the bed. Instead, he relaxed, allowing Mathias to take the lead.
For all his savage instincts, Mathias didn't rush him. When he pushed inside Ward, he did so slowly, giving Ward time to adjust. Ward still couldn't help a pained hiss, but the burn came with the pleasure only Mathias could give him. That thick shaft seemed to be spearing him in two, but it also showered him with a sense of belonging that was almost transcendental.
Ward felt every single inch of Mathias's dick, so hot it branded him from the inside out. He clenched his fists in the sheets, desperately needing to come, but not quite able to reach that point. By the time Mathias was fully embedded inside him, balls flush against Ward's ass cheeks, Ward was having real trouble withstanding all the emotions and sensations that flourished within their bond.
A murmur sounded in his ear, or perhaps in his mind. "Ward... My mate."
"Yours," Ward whispered back.
As if on a cue, Mathias pulled out of Ward and pushed back in, so hard his teeth rattled. He hit Ward's prostate dead on, and all thought processes came to a halt. Colors rushed to the forefront of his mind, the perfection, the beauty, the ecstasy painting his consciousness in a dazzling kaleidoscope. He wasn't a painter anymore, and instead, he'd become the canvas. With each of Mathias's masterful thrusts, another burst of color and bliss exploded over him, mingling with it all, blending with the rest of the rainbow.
And beyond it—or perhaps within it—Ward saw the wolf. He heard the beast howl in triumph as Mathias claimed him. He welcomed it, embracing Mathias's animal side just like he had many times before, when one of them had sought comfort.
It was too intense—good, painful, mind-melting, the fear mingling with the relief and the anger being swept away by the love. Ward didn't think it could get any better, until Mathias buried his fangs in Ward's throat.
Telepathy was both a blessing and a curse, because in that moment, when they both came, Ward felt like he was dying and being brought back to life. His mind was assaulted by centuries of memories, from distant images of times long forgotten, to rec
ent flashes—many starring Ward himself. And maybe... Maybe there was a spark of something else, impressions that were more feelings than anything else, belonging to that other presence between them, to their child. Overall, it was a million times more powerful than before, and Ward tried to hold onto it, to imprint every scene in his memory so that he could see and feel his mate and his baby forever.
He failed. There was only so much a human mind was capable of processing, and Ward's shut down—perhaps out of self-preservation. Ward wasn't even aware of it, not until he found himself opening his eyes and staring up at his mate's concerned face.
It would have probably been more confusing if he hadn't felt like he was floating on a big fluffy cloud. As it was, he smiled up at Mathias. "Well... When I manage to get my bones back, I really have to paint that."
Mathias released a sigh of relief. "I admit I didn't expect it to be so..."
He trailed off, and Ward nodded, because he knew exactly what he felt. No description could possibly match their experience. Distantly, he was aware that he must have blacked out for quite some time, since Mathias had already slid out of him and wiped him down. Even so, he wouldn't have traded those feelings for the world.
Mathias had obviously been worried about him, but he must have realized Ward was all right, because he settled down on the pillows and pulled Ward close. "It's okay now, Ward. We're going to be okay."
This time, Ward didn't reply. He didn't have to. Mathias already knew that Ward completely agreed. The pain of his loss had not faded, and it probably would never fully disappear. Even so, in that moment, as he lay in Mathias's arms, Ward felt freer than ever. He closed his eyes and set his hand on his stomach. Yes, they were free, free to start over—and no one would dare to separate them again.
Epilogue
A few weeks later
"Is that the last of it?"
Ward nodded, watching his mate set the box of books on the floor. "You know, you could have let me carry that."
