A Family with His Werewolf Mate (7 page)

The third man didn't even bother to address Will at all. He
smirked at his companions and licked his lips. "I've never fucked a
pregnant woman. I hear they're really... wild."

Shit. Fuck. This wasn't good, not good at all. Will looked
around, trying to find a solution. Of course, there was no way out. The three
men were blocking the only door. At a different time, Will might have been able
to run past them, but in his less than athletic state, he didn't have a chance.

"Please," he begged. "Don't do this."

If they tried to touch him, they'd see he was a man. It
didn't take a genius to realize what would happen after that, and Will didn't
think he could protect his unborn child.

"Oh, look at that." Fat Guy's eyes fixed on Will's
face again. "She begs so prettily. Tell you what, honey. Show us what else
you can do with your mouth, and maybe we'll let you go."

It was a lie, Will knew it. They'd never let him go, but
still, he had no choice. Scar Face shoved him down and Will fell, his knees
thudding painfully against the dirty tiles of the bathroom. From this angle, he
could clearly see the way his captors' dicks strained against their jeans. His
stomach roiled, and he was truly afraid he might throw up on the spot.

Fat Guy reached for his zipper and undid it. His hard cock
nearly poked Will in the eye. "Come on, baby. Suck it."

Will instinctively recoiled, but he had no place to go. He
went a little lightheaded when he heard the door open again and heavy footsteps
approached. Another accomplice?

That guess proved to be mistaken. "What the hell is
going on in here?" the new arrival asked loudly.

The man's voice was slightly accented, but it was his tone of
authority that made the other three turn toward him. "None of your
business," Fat Guy snapped.

Since the men directed their attention to the threat, they
moved away from Will. He struggled to his feet, leaning against the wall to
support himself. The fourth man instantly spotted him, and his lips thinned,
his gaze turning thunderous.

There was something about him that seemed awfully familiar.
Will couldn't quite pinpoint it except maybe... Maybe it reminded him a little
of Dean. Those eyes held the same wild, feral danger that Will had seen in
Dean. Holy shit.

"Just walk away mister," Scar Face piped up,
oblivious to the peril. "Walk away, and maybe you won't—"

The stranger gripped Scar Face's throat and lifted him in the
air using a single arm. "I'm sorry? I didn't quite get that."

Scar Face let out choking noises, clawing at the hand still
keeping him captive. The stranger hummed thoughtfully. "I'm afraid you're
going to have to speak up. I still can't quite hear you."

Fat Guy and his other companion lunged at the stranger, but
the man just stepped back and tripped them like they were nothing more than
clumsy children. When they tried again, he punched Fat Guy straight in his
pudgy face, then applied a very painful looking kick to the third man's
stomach—and he did it all while still holding Scar Face aloft.

By now, Scar Face looked a bit purple, and Will's savior
released the man just before Scar Face could go unconscious. Fat Guy helped
Scar Face up, while the third man struggled to his feet and panted out,
"Come on. Let's get out of here."

The stranger watched them flee, then finally turned toward
Will. "Are you all right?"

Will nodded and miraculously succeeded to find his voice.
"Thank you so much. You saved me."

"I wish I could do more, but unfortunately, the authorities
in this area tend to turn a blind eye to most everything." He peered
closer to Will's face, then looked down at his belly. "Wait... What? Why
are you a man?"

The relief that had filled Will when his would-be rapists had
fled exploded into full-blown panic. "Umm... I don't understand," he
whispered, trying to surreptitiously make his way toward the exit.

"Oh, I think you do." His rescuer grabbed his arm.
"Don't be afraid," he whispered softly. "I won't hurt you. I
just can't figure you out. You are... human."

The latter word was barely audible, spoken softly and almost
inquiringly. Something in the man's tone soothed Will, and he found himself
slumping against the stranger's chest. "I am," he confirmed.
"It's... It's kind of a long story."

The stranger awkwardly patted his hair—well, his wig.
"It's a good thing we have time, then. Start at the beginning. What's your
name?"

"Will." The 'Mulligan' was on his lips, but an
image of Karl's angry face popped up in Will's mind, and he couldn't say it.
And then, Will felt the heavy weight of
Animal Farm
in his purse, and he
suddenly knew what to reply. "Will Orwell."

Chapter Five

Present day

"You never told me what you're going to do."

Finn Simmons crossed his arms over his chest, looking worried
and angry. Will had the vague thought Finn resembled his father so much it was
painful. He shook it off and sighed. "I can't say anything just yet, Finn.
Trust me on this one, and stay with Jessie."

"You know we'll keep him safe," Finn replied,
rubbing his eyes. "But there has to be something we can do to help. I just
can't bear the thought of abandoning Father."

"You're not abandoning him." Will squeezed his
shoulder. "You have your own mate and family to worry about, and he
wouldn't want you to endanger them. Let me take care of this."

Finn would have probably continued to protest, but before he
could do so, a female voice echoed around them, announcing the arrival of
Will's flight. The airport bustled with even more activity than before.
"Looks like that's my cue to go," Will told his mate's son.
"Don't worry about me. I'll keep you posted. Hopefully, I'll be able to
return soon."

It was more difficult than he could ever express to have to
leave Jessie at such a time. Jessie might be a half-wolf, but that hadn't come
without a price. He tended to use his unexpected healing powers—abilities that
seemed to stem from his hybrid nature—too much and Will was very worried it
would make Jessie's pregnancy riskier than it already was.

But he had to hope he'd be able to solve this problem and be
back by his son's side as soon as possible. He had to believe that, because if
he didn't... God, no, he didn't even want to think about it.

Swallowing around the knot in his throat, Will straightened
his back. "Call me when you get to Willow Cove. By then, I'll probably be
in Toronto. Anything you need, any questions you have to ask..."

It was Finn's turn to reassure him. "I know, Will. You
already told us, more than once. And again, we won't let anything happen to
Jessie."

Will would have still preferred it if his son could have
accompanied him to the airport, but they'd all decided of common accord that it
was too risky to expose Jessie that way. He wasn't comfortable with saying
goodbye, so instead, he offered Finn a small smile. "See you soon."

The flight took forever. Will could barely remember the last
time he'd been on a plane. He'd been given a window seat, and as he stared out
at the clouds, he couldn't help but recall a different time, many years ago,
when he'd traveled on a bus, heavily pregnant and fighting for something
entirely different. So many things had changed since then. He'd changed, so
very much. One part of him had remained untouched by time, and by all the
pain—his love for Dean.

He had told Finn he would take care of this, that he could
handle this problem, but truth be told, he was not sure if that had been a lie
or not. He hadn't actually spoken with the man he was relying on since Jessie's
graduation. Mathias had come to see Jessie that day, even if Jessie had never
known about it.

They
had
kept in contact since then, mostly by email.
Will owed Mathias too much to not at least drop him a line from time to time.
He still felt guilty over the way things had ended between them, and he also
knew Mathias hated Dean. He had absolutely no idea how he'd tell the man who
was in love with him that he needed help for the man he loved.

More than fifty years ago, Mathias had saved his life and
Jessie's. He'd been a faithful friend to Will for decades. But would that be
enough? Will wasn't sure, and it scared him.

None of these thoughts prepared him for the moment he finally
met up with Mathias. His friend was waiting for him in front of the plane
terminal, a grim expression on his face. "Let me guess," he said
without preamble. "You need me to help save Simmons."

His slight accent was more pronounced now, which only
happened when he was heavily irritated. Even so, Will felt relieved he wouldn't
actually have to approach the topic himself. Besides, if Mathias knew the
reason of Will's visit and had come anyway, a part of the battle had already
been won.

"Why am I not surprised that you already know about
it?"

Mathias scoffed and started walking toward the exit of the
airport. He didn't speak again, not until they both left the building and
entered Mathias's car. "I couldn't
not
know," he finally said.
"The entire werewolf world is abuzz with what's going on. It's the first
announced execution of an Alpha in decades."

Will winced, the confirmation of what he'd already suspected
a dagger to his already bruised and terrified heart. "Please, Matt. There
has to be a way your people can intervene."

Mathias's hands clenched around the leather of the steering
wheel. "Why? Why would I do that? What is so special about him that would
warrant such an intervention from my part?"

"He's the father of my son," Will replied quietly.

"I could have been Jessie's father, if you'd only let
me," Mathias protested. "I was there for him. Simmons did absolutely
nothing except assist you in his conception."

It was true, and nothing Will hadn't told himself more than
once over the years. Mathias was a good man. For a while, Will had actually
considered accepting his friend's offer of becoming more. But it wouldn't have
been fair to Mathias. The man might only be half-werewolf, but he still needed
everything a real relationship could offer. "It would have never worked
between us, Matt. You deserve someone who can love you like I love Dean."

He had no other answer, even if this one hurt both of them,
even if it stirred old wounds that had never truly healed. Mathias stared
ahead, as if looking at Will was an effort he couldn't quite make. Finally, he
took a deep breath. "I'll try. For you, I'll try. But it'll come with a
price."

"A price?" Will repeated in surprise.

"Yes." Mathias still didn't face him. "I want
to meet your famous mate, and see for myself who this man is that you'd choose
him over me. I want to fight him for you."

Will couldn't believe his ears. "Matt, you can't be
serious. Dean is in mortal danger. You can't expect me to—"

"I will help you get him out, because I can't challenge
him if he dies at the hands of the Gathering," Mathias said, interrupting
him. At last, he turned toward Will, pinning him with a fierce gaze. "He
doesn't deserve you, Will. I could never force you into my bed, but I can't let
you fall into his either, not after what he did. He'll just break you all over
again, and I can't stand for that. I won't, even if you do decide to leave me
again."

Will was mute. What could he say? Mathias had been the
witness of Will's pain, of how much he'd struggled when his pregnancy had ended
with a difficult birth that had left Jessie with no human consciousness. He'd
been there every step of the way, supporting Will for years. He'd taught Will
how to defend himself and Jessie, what it meant to have a half-werewolf child
and how to keep his head down and avoid potential dangers. He'd trained Will,
put a gun in his hand and said, "You don't have magic and you can't turn
furry—but you can have this."

Will had trained, and he'd learned, and he knew. It had
helped him pick up and flee whenever it was needed of him. More than once, he'd
done that—but the memory of the first time, the time he'd left Mathias behind
never got any easier.

"Matt... I'm sorry, you know I am," he told his
friend. "I never wanted to hurt you. I just felt that if I stayed, I'd
simply make things worse. I hoped that you'd find what you were looking for
without me and Jessie being there to distract you."

Mathias sighed heavily, but the anger drained out of him.
"It's been five hundred years, Will. If I'd had a mate, I would have found
him or her by now. You and Jessie were the best thing that happened to me in a
century. You're not mine, and it's unfair of me to push you, but that doesn't
mean I won't try to protect you." He paused and shook his head, as if
physically trying to dispel the haze of his emotions. "In any case, I'm
going to have to pull a lot of strings to get Simmons out. So you have to work
with me on this."

He didn't wait for Will to answer, and instead started the
car. "Prepare yourself. We have a lot to do."

****

In the dark cave that had become his cell for the past days,
Dean clung to his silver chains and wondered when they'd come for him. The
Gathering would probably be over soon, at which point his punishment—his
execution—would finally happen.

What concerned him right now wasn't his death, though. He
hadn't spoken to anyone since he'd been sentenced. The people who came to bring
him food never said a word. Dean had no idea how the challenge between Alpha
Adler and Finn had gone. He could only hope that it hadn't happened just yet,
or that Saul had found some way to handle it. Even if Finn did recover from his
coma, he would be in no condition to fight Adler.

And then there was Will, always Will. Moon be blessed, Dean
tried not to think about his mate, but he always failed. The desire clung to
him, the unbearable wish to see Will one more time, to brand his smile in his
mind and his scent in his skin. He was weak, he always had been, because he
knew he shouldn't want this. He didn't even deserve to want it—but it didn't
change the fact that he did.

There were so many things he'd have liked to say to Will, so
many apologies he ached to give. He'd never said them, never truly explained.
Will had only told him bits and pieces of his life after Dean had left him, but
what little he knew told Dean he didn't truly deserve to have Will back.

His wolf still tried, still reached out to Will—but it was
futile, and now, it was all over, anything he might have attempted. He'd never
see Will again. He was selfish enough to hope that his mate would, at the very
least, forgive him for everything he'd done.

At least Jessie would be fine. Or so Dean hoped. Andreas had
been at the Gathering with him, but when Dean had seen him last, it had seemed
like they would return him to Saul's pack. Dean had, in fact, insisted on it.
His life had to cover any debt Andreas might have. Jessie deserved everything
Dean hadn't been able to give to Will, and Dean's grandchildren should never
suffer the absence of one of their parents.

Tortured by his thoughts, Dean tried to stay on his feet, to
not succumb to the silver poisoning that was slowly worming its way through
him. The shackles bit into his skin, so it was getting harder and harder to
stay conscious and in his human form. The freezing temperature was also getting
to him. Normally, it wouldn't have bothered him, but he'd been steadily losing
blood, and his inability to heal didn't help. Changing shapes while bound could
have potentially disastrous consequences, and he wanted to avoid it for as long
as he could.

All things considered, when he heard the sound of approaching
footsteps, he thought he might be imagining it. But then, beneath the scent of
mildew and cold earth, he took in a familiar smell—that of a rival Alpha wolf.

Despite his weakness, Dean bared his teeth into the darkness.
Boris Maximoff chuckled, obviously not impressed. "You're still alive,
then. I had suspected this might be the case, but one never knows what can
happen in such situations."

"I take it you've come to remedy the problem," Dean
snapped, hating the rough and far too weak sound of his own voice.

Boris shook his head. "It seems you have more lives than
a cat shifter, Simmons. A petition has come in from the Council of the Aos Si,
and the Gathering has decided to grant it. There are still some lingering
issues you've left behind, and we want no part in your mess."

Wait, what? Dean could have expected anything except a
mentioning of The Folk. He had no dealings with the Sidhe, and in fact, he'd
never met one in all of his years. What could they want with him?

Dean suspected this must all be a huge misunderstanding, but
he wasn't above taking advantage of it. As such, instead of replying, he stayed
silent and waited to see what Boris would say and do next.

His patience paid off when the rival Alpha approached and
undid Dean's shackles. No longer forced upright by the silver bindings, Dean
went down on his knees. He hated himself for the show of weakness, and he
didn't allow it to last. Summoning the image of Will and that of his sons, he
struggled to his feet.

He even managed not to sway, and he noticed a look of
surprise, and maybe even begrudging respect of Boris's face. In seconds, it was
replaced by a dismissive sneer. "Follow me. You have a visitor."

Boris walked out of the cave and Dean trailed after him,
suppressing the urge to shiver. The cave had been freezing, but the surface
wasn't much better, since it left Dean exposed to the winds. It wasn't as cold
as it could have been, though, and Dean was thankful that whoever had decided
to host the Gathering at Lake Baikal had at least had the foresight of not
doing so in the dead of Siberian winter.

A car was waiting for them, and obviously, Boris reached it
first. He retrieved a change of clothes from the trunk and tossed them at Dean.
It wasn't out of any sense of helpfulness toward Dean—likely, the Gathering
wanted to get him at least halfway presentable for the Sidhe—but Dean was still
thankful, if not to Boris, to whoever had led to his release.

He quickly got dressed, wishing he could have cleaned up a
bit before, but knowing he didn't have time for it. Boris entered the car and
Dean followed his example, very much aware of the other two vehicles stationed
further back, and the other two wolves watching him from inside this particular
one. Even if he'd wanted to flee—which he didn't—he wouldn't get very far.

As the car started, Dean wished he could ask some of the many
questions that popped up in his mind. But Boris Maximoff hated him, a petty
grudge ranging from a time when they'd both been far younger. Dean didn't even
remember the original reason anymore. It had only gotten worse when the truth
about Dean had come out, since Boris's mate, Elena, had notoriously anti-human
views.