A Family with His Werewolf Mate (3 page)

His hopes that his mate would not panic faded when Will let
out a loud scream. He stumbled away from Dean so quickly he tripped against a
root and fell to the ground. Dean whined and took a step forward, instinctively
trying to comfort his mate, but the action had the complete opposite effect.
His eyes still fixed on Dean in a sort of horrified fascination, Will scuttled
back, almost as if he didn't even realize he'd fallen. The scent of his blood
filled the air as Will scratched his hands in the attempt to get away from
Dean.

If Dean had ever doubted he could physically feel his heart
breaking, he was proven wrong.

****

Will buried his face in his hands, trying to pretend this was
all a bad dream. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't have just witnessed
his lover turn into an animal.

He dared to glimpse in Dean's direction, hoping it had been
some sort of trick of light even if he knew the likelihood of such a thing was
very slim. The wolf remained there, next to Dean's abandoned clothes, taunting
Will with the truth.

Will sobbed and tried to move as far away as he could. His
back hit a tree trunk, and he didn't have the energy to get up and try to run.
Instead, he just sat there, crying, mourning his lost hopes.

He should have known better. He should have listened to his
parents when they'd told him such urges were twisted and sinful. Now, here he
was, with a creature who wasn't even human, a monster Will had deemed himself
in love with.

That was the most awful thing. He'd truly fallen for Dean,
believed the beautiful lies, dared to hope that maybe following his heart
wouldn't damn him. But he knew now it had been a huge mistake.

Will had never believed in werewolves, but he knew what they
were, of course. Just recently, he'd read a book he'd borrowed from the
library—
The Werewolf of Paris
. It had in fact been the name of the
French capital that had originally drawn him to it, since he was interested in
foreign cultures. He wanted to travel, to see places, and since for the moment,
he couldn't, he tried to surpass those limitations by reading. The book had
provided him with a very different image than he'd imagined.

But courtesy to
The Werewolf of Paris
and the few
other books he'd read on the topic, he knew what Dean was—a demon, a thing, a
perversion of nature. It confirmed what Will had always known about himself and
had struggled not to accept, that Will was just as perverted and freakish, that
he didn't belong and didn't even deserve to have a place in this world.

A distinctively canine whine drew his attention and he looked
up, just in time to see the huge, monstrously-sized black wolf turn into Dean.
Will half-expected Dean to lunge at him and tear him apart, but no such thing
happened. Dean just stood there in the moonlight, completely motionless.

"I'm so sorry, baby," he whispered. "I've
never... I've never regretted being a werewolf before, but if I could be
something different, I would."

Something in Dean's tone reached out to Will. "I... I
don't understand," he admitted. "How is this possible? How do you...
exist? Is it a curse?"

That had been the case for the main characters of many of the
books he'd read. Dean winced at his words. "No, it's not a curse. I'm just
a different species. I promise you, Will, all that you know—it's not real.
Those horror stories are just that, stories."

"All stories have a grain of truth," Will somehow
managed to choke out.

"And they do—proof in point, me. We exist. Werewolves, I
mean. But we're not mindless monsters. I'm not a demon. And neither are
you."

A mix of anger and dread filled Will. "Did you read my
mind?"

Dean shook his head. "You were talking out loud. I could
hear you."

Oh. That made sense, although it was probably the only thing
out of recent events that did. Will curled in a tighter ball, not knowing what
to think, what to feel. "Why?" he heard himself ask.

In the background of their conversation, the question made no
real sense. It didn't follow logically from their previous discussion. Will
himself didn't know what answer he was expecting. What he certainly didn't
expect was Dean finally moving forward and making his way to Will's side.

Will held his breath and tore his gaze away from Dean, not
brave enough to face everything he felt. Dean knelt next to him and his fingers
gripped Will's chin in a barely there touch. "Look at me, Will,
please."

Dean's voice was as soft and gentle as ever, and Will found
himself meeting Dean's gaze. "I am who I am, and I can't change that. I
don't blame you for hating me. I understand it. But please... Even if you see
me as a monster, don't feel the same way about yourself. You're such an amazing
person, Will. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes and know how beautiful
you truly are. Hate me if you must, but love yourself, because you deserve
it."

Will's mouth went dry. What could he say to that? What could
he reply when this man had accepted his insults without any qualms and focused
on weeding out the poison of Will's self-loathing instead?

"You mean more for me than you'll ever know," Dean
continued, "but I won't force you into anything. Just remember what I told
you, okay? Don't let hate poison your soul."

Miraculously, Will managed to nod. Dean smiled at him, and the
expression held heartbreak and pain. "Can I kiss you one last time? I
promise I won't bother you after that."

Will froze. There was nothing he'd have liked more than to
kiss Dean, but... God, he didn't know which way was up anymore. Dean had
admitted to not being human. He wasn't the man Will had fallen for. Right?

"Guess not." Dean's Adam's apple bobbed and he got
up. He clenched his fists and stared up at the moon, his handsome profile so
familiar it hurt. Finally, he stole another look at Will. "For the record,
I really am sorry. Don't tell anyone what happened here tonight. Just... Forget
about me. And be happy. Find someone else, a man who can give you what I could
not. Okay?"

Will should have told Dean that he had no intention of
pursuing any sinful liaison. He should have said that this was it for him, and
from now on, he would no longer falter from the right path. But Dean's voice...
It was the same one that had hummed a romantic song in his ear only a few
nights ago. Dean's eyes were so warm, even if they glittered with the slight
sheen of tears.

Forget. Could Will really forget? He'd been happier during
these past few days than he had his whole life. His very being rebelled against
discarding those memories.

If he let Dean go now, that was what his lover would
become—just a memory, something that, in a few years, would seem a
hallucination, a figment of Will's imagination. Dean would keep his word and
stay away, of that Will had no doubt. He could hear the 'farewell' even if Dean
hadn't actually said it.

Dean extended his hand toward him, as if he wanted to touch
Will. He stopped before they could make contact and turned on his heel. As Dean
started to walk away, Will couldn't take it anymore.

"Wait," he blurted out before he could stop
himself. "Let me... Let me see again."

Maybe it was true. Dean could simply belong to a different
species. It would be easy for people to interpret it in a scary way, especially
if the instances they'd run into other members of Dean's kind hadn't been very
pleasant.

So far, Dean had done absolutely nothing to harm Will. Truly,
Dean had been a werewolf all this time, and he'd been so amazing to Will. How
could Will not even give him a chance to explain?

"Show me again," he insisted. "Please."

Dean faced him, and despite the distance between them, Will
could still see the hope that lit up his lover's expression. It was painful,
because Will couldn't be sure what would happen once Dean changed. He'd
probably freak out all over again. Even so, he had to try. He had to really
look.

"You sure?" Dean asked him.

"Yes," Will answered with far more steadiness than
he felt. "Show me."

So, Dean did. Once more, the change flowed over him, and now
that Will was waiting for it, he saw past his original shock. Yes, it was
startling to see a man turn into a beast, but there was also something
beautiful, fluid, natural about it.

In the books he'd read, lycanthropy had been a curse, a sign
of wrongness. There was no wrongness here. And when the wolf looked at him,
Will saw Dean in the beast's eyes.

"Dean?" he asked.

The wolf nodded, insofar as it—no, he—could in his animal
form. He made no attempt to approach Will, and instead let out one of those
small whines, as if trying to... encourage Will.

Will was tired of being afraid. He clung to Dean's earlier
words, to the knowledge that something that felt so right couldn't be wrong. He
got up on shaky legs and steadily began to approach the wolf.

The beast watched him with those too-intelligent eyes, and in
them, Will saw the glow he'd sometimes glimpsed in Dean's human gaze, in
moments of particularly intense passion. Yes, the wolf had been there this
whole time, and maybe Will should have felt frightened or betrayed, but he
didn't. He was... fascinated.

The more he approached Dean, the less the wolf seemed like a
beast. Suddenly, he pinpointed the human Dean's hope in the wolf's stance. He
recognized the jet black of Dean's hair in the wolf's coat. When the wolf
fidgeted slightly, he could see the human Dean pacing in anguish.

By the time Will reached Dean, he'd come to a decision.
"You can understand me, right?" he whispered, almost afraid to look
away lest this beautiful creature disappear.

The wolf nodded again, and Will knelt down on the grass in
front of his-lover-turned-animal. "Can I touch you?"

In response, the wolf slowly nudged his chin with his muzzle,
so gentle, much like the human Dean had done earlier. A sense of overwhelming
relief filled Will and he wrapped his hands around the animal's neck. "I'm
sorry," he whispered as he buried his fingers in Dean's luxurious black
fur. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you a monster. Can you ever
forgive me?"

He pulled away slightly to meet Dean's eyes. A few seconds
later, he regretted this, because Dean took advantage of his position to lick
his cheek. Will squeaked in surprise, torn between outrage and amusement. As he
wiped his face, Dean shifted back into his human form. His sad smile had been
replaced by a wide grin. "Nothing to forgive, baby. Thank you for giving
me a chance to explain."

"Thank you for trusting me with this," Will
replied, disregarding the 'licking' incident in favor of focusing on the matter
at hand. "I'm guessing you don't go around telling just everyone about
your nature."

Dean shot him a sheepish look. "Well, no. The truth is,
Will... You know how Alpha wolves mate in the wild? All werewolves have mates
like that, our other halves. And you're mine. I knew the moment I scented you
at the dance."

Shit. Just when Will had thought all the strange revelations
were over. Dean had said that word the night they'd danced, but Will had
dismissed it, not realizing how important it was. "Your mate?"

Dean nodded and pulled Will into his lap. Will instinctively
leaned into his lover's embrace, distantly wondering how he could have
considered giving this up for anything. He was awfully tempted to explore all
the naked skin within his reach, but Dean hadn't finished his explanation.
"Our mates are the most important thing in the world for us. It's not
forbidden to mate a human, and we're given allowances to tell that human the
truth about us. No one else can know, though. According to our law, if a human
other than a mate learns the truth... The consequences could be disastrous.
Their lives as they know it will be over. Some of them are even killed."

Will shivered as the weight of Dean's words settled in. He
couldn't imagine Dean doing something like that. It was too awful. "You
don't... You wouldn't..."

"No, not me," Dean rushed to assure him.
"There are guilds of silencers, but that's our last resort. We have
enforcers who regularly track down humans who might be an issue and try to
solve the problem in a different way—usually by integrating the people in
question in our extended society." A pause. "I know this is scary, baby,
and I hate to spring everything on you like this, but it couldn't be
helped."

"Why do I have the feeling you're not done blowing my
mind?" Will asked.

"Probably because you're so clever and you already know
me so well." Dean sighed. "The thing is... I'm a born Alpha, and the
son of the leader of one of the biggest packs in the United States. My father
will not be happy if he learns my mate is a human man. We've come here for a
Gathering—which is kind of like a senate meeting that takes place yearly—but
it'll end any day now... So you and I have to choose."

In other words, Will could still lose his lover, despite
everything they were already struggling against. "Why does this have to be
so hard?" he asked quietly. "I just want to be with you. Why can't
people leave us be?"

"Maybe... We can make them." Dean's hands settled
on Will's hips. "Run away with me, baby. We can go someplace else, where
no one knows us, where it'll be just the two of us."

Hope bubbled in Will's chest. He could see it now, a little
house of their own, like this cabin, but bigger, brighter. A forest, where Dean
could go running in his wolf shape while Will explored. The two of them
kissing, touching, in daylight for once, without having to hide. No more lies,
no more deceit. Freedom.

"Yes," he replied. "I'll go with you."

Chapter Three

It still shocked Dean that Will had found it in himself to
accept his wolf form. Human fiction had made werewolves into abominations, and
the fact that Will had managed to see past that filled Dean with awe. He felt
more sure than ever that he was meant to spend his entire life at Will's
side—and he would have felt the same way even if his senses hadn't identified
Will as his other half.

They were both emotionally exhausted after their eventful
conversation, so they didn't do much sexually. For the most part, they lay in
the grass while Dean explained to Will how werewolf society worked, and what it
meant to be someone's mate. Will didn't always reply, but Dean could tell his
mate was paying close attention.

All too soon, the time for their separation came. Will broke
away from him and got up. Dean reluctantly followed his mate's example and
pulled on his clothes. "Can I see you tomorrow evening again?"

Will thought for a few moments, then winced. "Actually,
I don't think so. It's my birthday and my brothers want to drag me off to a
carnival one town over."

"Your birthday?" Dean mentally flailed. "I
didn't know."

"Of course you didn't." Will chuckled and brushed
his lips over Dean's in a ghost of a kiss. "Don't worry about it. It's not
important."

"I disagree," Dean replied with a grin. "Tell
you what. I'll see you at the carnival. We have to be careful, but I want to
give you your gift."

"You don't have to get me anything," Will
protested.

"Tch. I want to." Dean kissed his mate's hands,
then slowly released them. "Now go, or I might do something that'll make
us both very late."

Will gave him a look full of yearning, but complied. As his
mate disappeared into the foliage, in the direction of his family home, Dean
went the opposite way, toward Willow Cove. His father couldn't possibly imagine
what he'd been up to, since Dean had the perfect excuse—of letting out his
wolf. Still, it was better to be there if the man needed him for something.
Besides, he had a gift to prepare.

It was harder than expected to come up with something for
Will. He didn't have a lot of time or too many options, since he had to work
with whatever he could get in Willow Cove. In the end, nothing seemed quite
right or enough—until an idea occurred to him.

The book was among the few personal items Dean always brought
along for the yearly Gatherings. George Orwell had likely not intended his
Animal
Farm
to be a reference to shape-shifters, but it amused Dean to think of it
that way. He'd found that politics was the same no matter the species of those
involved.

And maybe it wasn't a very romantic gift, but somehow, it
felt right. Dean hoped his mate would understand the message. Werewolves might
be dangerous, but in some ways, they weren't all that different from humans. It
was all down to the choices they made, and Dean had chosen to love Will. Beyond
that, nothing else mattered.

He wrapped the book up in the most innocuous paper he could
find—unfortunate, but necessary for his plan. Once done, he focused on making
arrangements for when he and Will would run away together.

He'd already decided on the optimum occasion. The last day of
the Gathering, when all the werewolves would be distracted and Dean would be
able to slip away. He set aside food and money they could take along and mapped
a tentative route in his head. Canada, probably. No one would find them there,
and they could be free and love just like they wanted to.

As night fell, Dean sneaked out of the bed and breakfast
where he was staying, paying close attention so that Elder Terrence and his
father wouldn't notice. He watched the main road, scanning the distance for the
truck of the Mulligan brothers.

They'd have to pass through Willow Cove to go to the
carnival, and Dean hoped he could hitch a ride with his own mate.

It might have seemed risky, but it was a calculated risk at
best. They didn't have much time left, and Dean needed to explain his plan to
his mate. Besides, if he managed to get the Mulligan siblings to give him a
lift, he could pretend to befriend them, which would make it much easier for
him and Will to escape when the time came. And okay, maybe he wasn't being
entirely subjective—but Dean couldn't fathom letting his mate spend his
birthday without him.

The plan went smoother than he himself could have expected.
The truck he recognized from the night of the dance appeared in the distance.
Once Dean considered it close enough, he stepped within view and waved.
Thankfully, the truck slowed down and stopped, which already canceled the main
problem of Dean's idea.

"Hey there, gentlemen," he called out. "By any
chance do you have room for one more? I heard there's a carnival going on, but
I'm temporarily stranded."

He smiled slightly, and the human girl in the seat next to
the driver made an understanding 'aw' sound. "Of course we can help.
Right, Karl?"

The driver—presumably Karl—didn't seem so enthusiastic, but
he obviously didn't want to cross his girl. "Sure. Hop in."

 
"Thanks a million," Dean
replied.

He climbed into the truck bed, only to come face to face with
none other than his mate. For a brief moment, he thought Will might give them
both away, but no such thing happened. The slight panic in Will's eyes melted
into an awkward smile, the exact type one would give to a stranger. "Uh...
Hello there. I'm Will."

"Dean. Thanks for helping me out."

The other occupants of the truck introduced themselves as
Will's siblings, Louis and George, and turned out to be the men who'd tracked
Will down the night of the dance. They also had dates with them, a freckled
redhead named Victoria and a pretty blonde named Georgia. The similarity in the
names of George and his date seemed to amuse the human brothers quite a lot.
Louis and George kept a steady stream of conversation, sometimes asking Dean questions.
Dean responded to all of them with a bright smile, never faltering, studiously
not staring at his mate even if his entire being screamed to reach out and
touch. Instead, he focused mostly on flattering the girls, very careful to be
courteous without taking things too far.

Finally, the truck stopped in front of the carnival. Dean
jumped out first and made a show of looking around. "What is it?"
Georgia asked, as if on cue.

"I'm supposed to meet my date here, but I can't see
her."

Dean scowled and tried to look disappointed. Thankfully, his
plan of making himself liked by the girls had worked because they all seemed
quite put out by his predicament. "Do you want us to help search?"
Victoria asked, completely oblivious to the way Louis was glaring at Dean.

"That's all right," Dean answered. "I'm new
here, but I should be able to find my way."

"Nonsense," Peggy, Karl's fiancée, said. "Of
course we'll help. It's only decent. Right, Karl?"

The pained look on the man's face told Dean Karl had very
different plans for this evening. Finally, Will took a step forward and sighed
heavily. "Tell you what, I'll stick with Dean and help him search for his
date. You guys go on ahead."

"Are you sure?" Karl asked. "It's your
birthday..."

"I'm sure." Will rolled his eyes. "Go on.
Enjoy yourselves."

"Thanks, Will," George said, already guiding his
date away. "You're a peach."

Dean watched in amusement as Will's three brothers
disappeared into the crowd. Once they were gone, Will pulled Dean aside,
glaring. "Oh my God... How could you do this?"

Dean grinned, feeling wild with the taste of victory.
"It worked, didn't it?"

"Yes, but it could have failed abysmally. I could have
given us away."

Dean smiled at his mate. "I trusted you, and I was
right." He stole a look around and when he was sure no one could spot
them, pressed a brief kiss to Will's lips. "I missed you."

"Did you?" Will pouted. "It really didn't seem
that way when we were in the truck."

Dean almost couldn't believe his ears. "Don't tell me
you're jealous. Oh, baby, there's nothing to be jealous of. It's you I
love."

The words came out naturally, without him even thinking about
them. He only realized what he'd said when his mate's eyes widened. "O-Oh.
I... Uh..."

"Sorry," Dean quickly piped up. "I'm rushing
you again. You don't have to say anything. Just keep it in mind. And now... Do
you want to go to the carnival?"

Will scanned his face with those beautiful eyes that saw past
every single barrier Dean tried to erect. The green orbs glowed with emotion as
he softly answered, "Yes. Let's go."

Dean suddenly had the urge to just drag his mate off
someplace private where he could ravage him, but he held back. Today was
special, and he wanted to share this with Will. They were more than the hidden
moments they spent at the cabin. Dean wanted this carnival to be the beginning
of the rest of their lives, a life of joy, where they could be together without
fear of reprisal.

For the moment, they couldn't linger or touch too much while
in public, but just having Will close was a gift. As they entered the carnival
and walked around the numerous tents, Dean was mesmerized by the sound of
Will's laughter, by his wide smile and the way his green eyes glinted like
gems. It took everything in his power to focus on anything else save Will's
pure beauty, but he did, keeping a close eye on the crowd and changing
direction whenever he caught sight of Will's brothers.

It should have been tense, but it really wasn't. There were
too many people for anyone to pay attention to them, and Will's brothers seemed
too focused on their dates to worry about their sibling. Really, he'd have been
pissed on Will's behalf, since this entire thing was supposed to be for Will's
birthday, but their dismissive attitude helped him. Dean wished he could have taken
his mate's arm like they did with the girls, but it wasn't possible, so this
would have to do.

They got on rides, ate cotton candy and entered some of the
competitions. Dean managed to win a large plush wolf for his mate, and he felt
stupidly proud of it even if he couldn't present it to Will in public. They
entered the poor excuse for a haunted house, laughed themselves breathless at
the unrealistic werewolves inside, and probably scared some of the staff off
with their chuckles. When they could walk without succumbing to giggles once
more, they continued to explore the carnival—until they ran into a
photographer.

They looked at one another at the same time. It would
probably be a little strange if they asked the man to take their photo, but
they could come up with an excuse and pretend they were related. Will nodded at
him, obviously thinking the same thing, and Dean approached the man.
"Excuse me," he said. "Could you take a photo of me and my
cousin?"

"Of course," the photographer replied jovially. He
didn't seem to find Dean's request odd, and instead just gestured for them to
get into position. "Smile!"

They leaned against each other just slightly as they posed,
careful not to seem too intimate. It was enough, for now—for this moment full
of hope and promise. Even so, when Dean paid and retrieved the photo, he knew
he had to get his mate to himself, just for a little while.

"Come on," he whispered. "Follow me."

Will gave him a curious look, but didn't protest. Carrying
the plush wolf which Dean had managed to pass to him during their stint in the
haunted house, he wordlessly complied. Dean made his way through the crowd,
wishing he could take Will's hand, and hoping he could fix that unbearable
transgression soon.

He found what he was looking for a few minutes later. An
empty tent sat further away from the main carnival stalls. It seemed to have
been meant for holding supplies, but had been left unguarded, perhaps because
most of the things inside had already been put into use.

Either way, it was the perfect refuge away from all the
people—or at least, as perfect as they could find in the middle of a fair.
"I don't think I truly wished you happy birthday," Dean said as soon
as they were in private.

He pulled the package with the book from his coat and offered
it to his mate. Will blinked in surprise. He set the plush toy on a nearby
table and took the gift with almost reverent hands. "You got me a
gift."

"I said I would, didn't I?" Now that he'd actually
given the book to Will, he was nervous and not quite so sure Will would like
it. "Well. Open it."

Will quickly undid the packaging and Dean held his breath as
his mate finally got a look at the cover—only to burst into laughter mere
seconds later.

It was a laughter full of joy, genuine and happy, and Dean
relaxed, his wolf instinctively perking up at the realization that he'd pleased
his mate. Grinning, Will caressed the cover of the book. "This is perfect,
Dean. A clever book, and a reminder of you. Thank you."

Dean swallowed around the sudden knot in his throat. He
couldn't help but stare at Will's slender fingers, at the way they stroked the
book. Was it possible to be jealous of an inanimate object? Apparently.
"I'm glad you like it," he managed to croak out.

Will clutched the tome to his chest and looked up at Dean.
"I'll treasure it always," he whispered. Despite the soft tone, the
words echoed loudly in the tent, a promise that made the wolf inside Dean growl
in satisfaction. Always. That sounded perfect to Dean.

Suddenly, he couldn't keep himself from touching Will any
longer. He'd held back during their walk through the carnival, and while it had
been worth it at the time, he needed more.

With a wicked grin, Dean stole the book from Will and placed
it on a nearby table. Will made a sound of surprise, perhaps not realizing what
Dean had in mind, but that noise melted into a moan of pleasure—one muffled by
Dean's lips as they kissed.