Evermore (3 page)

It was a good thing Homer had always been a patient wolf.

She liked fruit, sunsets, and the breeze. Most of her life had been spent in cities and she stared at the farmland around them like she’d stepped into a foreign planet. She had nightmares and cried out in her sleep.

And even though she was having a baby she had no idea what to do with children. Caitlyn and Lena, both of whom had daughters earlier in the year, created the same startled scent from her as the corn fields. She’d eventually turned away with tears in her eyes.

Her eyes fluttered open again and this time she yawned, stretching her arms over her head while she woke up. “Hi, Homer.”

He liked hearing her say his name. Other than an occasional joining of their hands or a quick touch to her pregnant belly, he never let himself give in to the almost unbearable need to hold her. He’d seen brief glimpses the scars on her back when Tatyana examined her. His mate had been abused. She would come to him when she was ready—with both information and touch—and he wouldn’t push. Not even an inch.

Although he had to shift at least once a day and run like a dragon was on his trail to keep from losing his mind. If the Owens brothers got word of it, Homer would never hear the end of it. Grown wolves should not need to shift all the time.

“I brought you something.” He pulled the apple out of his bag and handed it to her before he sat down next to her. Since she stayed at his house, her scent was everywhere. A constant palpable reminder of his unrequited need for her surrounded him whenever he came home.

She grinned and sat up straighter. “Thank you so much. Where are you getting all of the fruit you find for me?”

“Mostly I’ve been trading for it. A favor. Helping around someone’s house, fixing piping.” He shrugged. “This one Tatyana gave me because I helped her procure some chocolate for Robbie’s birthday cake.”

Camille shook her head. “This place is amazing. I keep expecting to wake up in a back alley and find out I dreamed the whole thing.”

“Not going to happen. Nothing bad will ever touch you again.”

Camille gasped, gripping her belly as she jumped to her feet. He rose seconds behind her, his mate’s sudden terror short circuiting his brain. Whatever frightened her had to be eliminated immediately.

“What is it?”

Rather than speaking, she pointed to the sky. He followed her direction and immediately knew what the problem was. A green dragon flapped its wings in the distance. He hadn’t paid attention to the creature’s arrival because he wasn’t on guard duty, although he should have simply to reassure her.

“They’re supposed to be dead.” Her voice cracked.

“Camille.” Saying her name was deliberate. He wanted her attention on him and not on the sky. “Would you trust me to hold you?”

Although she usually remained skittish, she came into his arms without hesitation. Good, the mating need pulsed through her too. She needed to remain apart for a while, fine, he understood her reticence, but when it counted her wolf came to him.

“We have to run, Homer.”

“No.” He ran his hand up her back gently. “There are a couple of things I need to let you know. The first is that dragon isn’t getting anywhere near here. To begin with, it’s sick. Do you see how its right wing is bent? That’s a sign it’s on its last legs. Not surprising considering the Queen has been gone for nearly a year. But should it get even a little bit closer to us, three wolves who I worked with a long time and trust unquestionably will take it down. In the unlikely event the poor beast did make it through them, Caitlyn would tell it to go away and the dragon would.”

She froze in his arms. “Because she told it to?”

“There are some among us who have the ability to control the dragons. They’re called dragon-talkers. Their identity needs to be kept a secret lest someone come and try to use them for the wrong purposes. Caitlyn is one of them.”

“Amazing.” A shiver rocked through her and he held her closer. “I can’t do anything at all and here is a member of your pack with the ability to talk to dragons.”

Homer breathed her in. “You do quite a lot actually. You survived and although you won’t tell me the circumstances of how and why, you’re here. You’re not broken inside. You still smell of strength. It’s addictive.” He had to stop talking before he said anything more stupid. Any second more and he’d start spouting off poetry and she’d run away never return. “Caitlyn isn’t the only secret in our pack, Camille. We take care of secrets here.”

The dragon dove toward the ground and as he watched, exactly as he’d have expected, his three pack mates leapt in the air in their wolf form. The nearly dead beast didn’t stand a chance and the whole non-spectacle was over in a matter of seconds.

He expected her to pull away. She didn’t and it made him breathe easier. The day pulsed with energy around him. Homer had been born for this female. He would always care for her.

“And what are your secrets?” She rubbed her forehead against his chest.

“What family I have left in the world believe me dead. When I joined the elite group of werewolves, faking our death was part of the deal. I can never go back home. And I wouldn’t want to if I could. My father was Alpha of our pack but he wasn’t a good male. He never abused my mother in any physical way, there were never scars on her body. His words, however, they wounded her in places which would never heal. They weren’t mates, just two wolves who saw a future with each other. I think she loved him. He did nothing but cause her pain.”

Camille raised her head to look at him. “We’re both the children of very bad Alphas.”

“Made for one another. Although I still know nothing about yours.”

She furrowed her brow. “You haven’t asked Robbie to tell you yet?”

“Your secrets should be told by you.”

“Oh, Homer.” Camille wrapped her arms around him tighter and his cock jumped to life. She must have felt it although she didn’t comment outwardly. Her scent, by contrast, got heated. While she kept her feelings guarded, her body wanted him.

A first step but not enough. He would have all of her. Body and soul.

She didn’t look at him when she spoke. “My father is the famous Alpha who refused to relinquish his pack. They branded him a traitor, said he was willing to lie down and let the Dragons destroy us. Called him and our people a coward. I was four. The Generals came for him and they killed him, burned our pack lands to the ground. I remember bits and pieces. For the next four years, before she would be killed in a riot over a loaf of bread, my mother would swear my father supported the war. He wanted to keep his pack intact, to fight together. They never gave him the chance to explain.”

Her father wasn’t wrong. Destroying the natural order of the packs had all but killed the werewolves before the dragons got the chance. Now wasn’t the time for politics and should haves. She’d shared part of herself. He wanted more.

“You were eight when she died. That leaves a decade of time. What happened to you?”

She visibly swallowed. “I did unspeakable things. I stole. Hid. Lied. Used people and eventually ended up in the bed of a man I didn’t love whose child I’m going to have because he promised to feed me. I’m not a worthy mate to you. You were an elite solder. I’m the daughter of a traitor and pretty much a prostitute. I…”

He kissed her because he had to. Homer had promised himself he would not push her, but hearing how she felt about herself, his wolf reacted before he could temper the need. She required comfort and he gave it as instinct drove him to.

More surprising, she kissed him back. Camille clung to him like he could save her from a storm and meant to. For the rest of his days.

Inching back, he ran his thumb down her cheek. “Don’t ever doubt I am grateful for any and all decisions you made to stay alive. You’re here. You’re mine. I swear to you I will always see to your needs.”

“I come to you as a mate pregnant with another man’s baby.”

It might be too early to say what he had to. Only need didn’t allow him to strategize or play games. “No you don’t. You come to me with my baby. The pup growing strong inside of you will have my name, be my child, and no one will ever tell him or her otherwise. For evermore. I told Robbie the baby is mine and that’s how it will be.”

Tears streamed down her face and he wiped them away. “I heard you tell the Alpha that. But I couldn’t believe it. Homer, that’s too much. How can you really feel that way? What if you look at the baby and it resembles Derek Dresden?”

“The dragon drug dealer? Is that the male who hurt you?”

She closed her eyes. “That just came out. I didn’t mean to tell you.”

“He won’t get near my baby. Or my mate.” A cold fury settled in his bones. To be angry at Dresden for touching what belonged to Homer was unreasonable. Werewolves often had sexual relations prior to mating. They were naturally passionate creatures. Only anger didn’t always resonate reasonably.

A kind, stable male would have been one thing. The man responsible for distributing the dragon drugs to women and children throughout the reason constituted something else entirely. He was a threat. If he came after Homer’s mate and child there would be war.

And at that evening’s pack meeting he was going to have to let Robbie know exactly what could be coming for them all down the line. If his Alpha wanted them to leave, he’d take his family and go. Although, he doubted his Alpha would even consider the thought. Robbie Owens never turned from a righteous fight and Homer had learned at his side to teach danger a lesson, not to mess with them.

“I’m very conflicted.” She hiccupped and the sound shattered his heart. His mate carried pain she should never have known. “I already love the life inside of me, and at the same time I wish I had never known him. The one thing I had never done was spread my legs to survive. The deal I made with Dresden was because he wanted my virginity. After that, he got more and more hostile. I thought he might kill me one night with a whip. Such a waste. If I’d known how much I was going to hate sex I’d have found another way.”

Her words stopped his internal rage.
What?

He breathed her in to calm his beast so he could make sense of the whole thing. She’d been a virgin. For a female to reach her age without having lots of meaningless encounters before mating was very unusual. But then again everything was different. Where would she have found the closeness of a pack to have those early liaisons with?

His mate’s only sexual experience was with a very dangerous abuser.

“I know you’re just getting to know me. I know it’s too soon. All of that being said, can you trust me. To give you pleasure? I’ll keep my pants on the whole time. I can’t leave you here tonight to go to work knowing you think you don’t like sex.”

It was time to erase the past from her mind. They weren’t having the most traditional beginning, but damn it he was going to make their mating work.

****

Camille’s body had been languid ever since Homer pulled her into his arms. And now he wanted to what?

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” But her knees quivered and her wolf pushed against her. She couldn’t shift and the animal half of her had mostly settled into waiting until she gave birth. Only, whatever Homer meant had woken up the animal.

“I know you don’t.” He took her hand. “Come inside with me. I want to show you pleasure.”

Pleasure? Camille wanted to laugh at the word. Derek had no trouble finding his while he left her bleeding and miserable. The only good thing to come from the whole experience was the baby growing in her stomach.

“I don’t think I can manage you. Not with the baby in my stomach.”

Homer was her mate—of that fact being true she held no doubt—only the idea of physical intimacy made her shudder. If she wanted to stay with his pack, and have her baby claimed not only by Homer but by the entire group, then she knew she’d eventually have to give in and let Homer do as he wanted. Only not yet, surely.

“They’ll be nothing for you to manage.” He took her hand, linking their fingers, and she didn’t object. If he wanted to push this, she was going to have to give in. Homer was hands down kinder than Derek ever had been. Maybe he would take better care to not hurt her during the act itself.

She followed him through the living room to his bedroom. Camille had never let herself venture inside. He’d not asked her to join him inside before, and everyone was entitled to privacy. She looked around the room. He had few possessions other than a bed and a desk. His closet, half open, showed an assortment of pants and shirts hung neatly. His shoes were lined side-by-side on the floor, not thrown everywhere. A hook, unused, had been attached to the back of the door.

“You don’t have much in here.”

He patted the bed before he sat down on the brown comforter, an indication he wanted her to join him. “I was dead, remember?

“Ah yes. And the dead don’t decorate.”

He shrugged. “Why bother? It’s always been only me. If you want to, you can redo the whole house.”

She sat next to him, his words nearly making her knees give out. Redecorate? Her heart rate kicked up a notch. As his mate she’d have the right. A home? Space she could think of as her own? Camille had never given into the idea she could even hope for as much.

He ran his hand down the side of her face, sending shivers of pleasure up and down her spine. She certainly didn’t mind him touching her, just the opposite really.

“Kiss me.” His words were spoken close to her mouth. She closed her eyes and met his lips with her own. The same power she’d felt when he kissed her on the porch filled her. They were connected, she wouldn’t try to deny how he made her feel heat she hadn’t known possible.

His kiss started out gentle and quickly changed. Homer took possession of her mouth, urging her lips to open so he could touch his tongue to hers. She gasped at the invasion and then melted into it. Never before had she been kissed with such intimacy.

By the time he pulled back, she had lost track of time. Had they been kissing for hours? His eyes were heated, his wolf dancing in them as he stood from the bed.