Pretty Poison (19 page)

Settling back into his seat, listening to the rustle of leaves brushing the side of the Tahoe and the screech of scraping twigs, Noah concentrated on patience. On calm. Pushing Wade tonight, when the man was so anxious about their first full moon hunt, was counter-productive. That wouldn’t help. Becoming a centering refuge of peace in his storm might, though.

“You act more like a shifter and an alpha mate every day.” Wade chuckled. “My senses appreciate the soothing blast from our bond, but you don’t have to coddle me.”

“I know I don’t have to.” Noah’s lips curved to a rueful grin as he glanced at his mate in the growing darkness. “It’s a perk.”

Wade laughed.

Despite the increasingly treacherous terrain and the alarming rock of the Tahoe as they navigated the rutted trail through it, Noah held Wade’s hand. Truthfully, Noah gained as much comfort from their twined fingers as Wade did, enjoyed the intimate buzz of the link strengthening between them. They weren’t fully bonded yet. But just like Noah’s recovery and the optimistic direction the pack was taking, the deepening relationship between Wade and him didn’t feel scary anymore. It was exhilarating. Noah’s intensifying awareness of Wade’s link to him was a thrill that trebled Noah’s pulse and filled him with quiet gladness.

Whatever obstacles waited ahead, neither one of them was alone.

They drove the rest of the way in silence, Wade struggling with his nervous fear and Noah basking in his contentedness. When Noah spotted the shadowy bulk of cars parked at the edge of a clearing ahead, he lamented the loss of their privacy. He’d miss the peaceful reprieve of the drive and intended to demand more time with Wade away from the pack, just Wade and him. He’d been stubborn and stupid to reject his mate’s sincere interest in him. For now, though, as Wade parked their Tahoe between two others, Noah grasped that the tension roiling inside his alpha must be addressed.

“We can leave,” Wade said, staring out the windshield at the pack’s families waiting in the small field. “We don’t have to do this. Tonight or ever. If becoming the alpha pair of this pack isn’t what you want, I can back the SUV up...We can keep driving.”

Noah smothered his laughter. Barely. He squeezed Wade’s fingers one last time, and then Noah released his grasp to reach for his crutches. “C’mon.”

Wade’s stress intensified with their every step closer to the shifters gathered in the field. The alpha’s body snapped straight, as rigid as cordwood. His marching stride smoothed to a predatory prowl. Antagonism and defiance wafted from Wade, a sour scent the others couldn’t possibly mistake as anything less than a brute warning. Wade’s instincts were stirring and Noah couldn’t regret that. Only an idiot would defy what the alpha wanted.

Fortunately, Noah’s ripening shifter instincts were far less burdensome. He smiled at the city shifters as he and Wade neared them, recognizing the few that he knew. Trudy, Tanner, the glowering Fletcher, and even the teens he shared shifter craft training with. But he also saw dozens of new faces. Families clustered together, as well as groups of whelps, some of them small enough to have yet to experience their first shift. Young adults, presumably unmated, had congregated in a milling crowd to the side. Some shifters looked at him with eyes wide in curiosity. Others grinned. A few brows furrowed, those faces stark with disapproval, but not as many as Noah had feared. He grinned at them all, the urge to soothe the strain escalating at Wade’s aggressive scent an overpowering need in Noah.

Many of these shifters had wanted to end him after the accident, when Noah was little. He shouldn’t want to comfort these people. He had every right to hate them. But the mending had to start somewhere...and not just in Noah’s cracked skull and injured legs. Maybe Noah’s father and two of his brothers weren’t ready to accept that. But Noah was.

Halting a few paces from the pack, Wade waited for Noah to stop as well and then snatched Noah’s hand from the grip of his forearm crutch so fast Noah would’ve toppled if he hadn’t braced for Wade’s hyper-vigilant gesture. He stifled his wince at the fierce clasp of Wade’s fingers, concentrating instead on whatever good and happy feelings Wade might sense from him that could lull Wade from his wary aggression. Sweat beaded at the base of Noah’s spine as endless minutes of tense silence stretched.

“This is Noah,” his mate finally said. Wade yanked Noah to his side, so close his heat warmed Noah like a furnace. “He’s mine.”

No words, strictly, were required. Noah realized that. Wade’s scent as well as his own had altered while they’d mated over the past weeks and shifter senses had uniquely evolved to identify prey, danger, and potential sexual partners. The youngest of whelps could distinguish mated pairs from unattached shifters by smell alone. The scent markers of Noah and Wade’s mating had increased since they’d tied in the garden, too. No shifter would misunderstand what Noah’s appearance in the field during the full moon meant, even if their alpha said nothing.

Still, Noah couldn’t stifle a snicker, didn’t even try. He snorted and chuffed while Wade glared at him. His mate’s glower made it funnier. “You romantic devil, you,” Noah gasped when he stopped sniggering long enough to catch his breath.

A few of the pack’s shifters chuckled, too.

When Noah spared them a glance, some frowned, but none of them stepped forward. None moved a muscle, wary of triggering Wade’s defensive instincts farther.

They were going to be okay.

Maybe Wade’s bald declaration wasn’t as comical as Noah felt. Wade could be dense and as subtle as a lobbed brick at times. Instead of talking to Noah, explaining his emotions and why he occasionally acted like a dick, Wade tended to be cagy. Guarded. Even with Noah.
Especially
with Noah, whom the alpha feared didn’t care for or love him as much as Wade did. The man’s reticence was an aggravation and one they, as a couple, would need to work on. Noah recognized Wade’s insecurities were fed by Noah’s, though; their poor communication wasn’t solely Wade’s fault. If Noah wanted elegant soliloquies about the depth and intensity of his mate’s feelings for him, Noah suspected he’d best not hold his breath, and he hadn’t expected that, not while Wade distrusted the strength of their bonding. Noah hadn’t, after all, told Wade that he kind of, maybe, possibly thought he might be falling for Wade, too.

But he honestly hadn’t expected the lobbed brick from Wade, either. Not tonight. Wade’s gruff candor, aimed at his people, surprised Noah. Amused and delighted him. He leaned toward Wade, who scowled at him. Noah kissed his mate on his stubborn jaw. “I like you, even when you’re being a jerk.”

Wade arched an eyebrow. Waited.

Noah harrumphed. “Fine,” he said. Evidently, elegant soliloquies weren’t part of Noah’s repertoire, either. Instead of publicly declaring how he felt, which he wasn’t sure of and preferred to share with Wade for the first time when they were alone, Noah retreated to Wade’s pragmatic comfort zone. “You belong to me, too.”

Lips curving to a sly grin, Wade bent to brush a kiss over Noah’s mouth.

“Congratulations,” Fletcher said, startling Noah with a squeeze on Noah’s shoulder. He hadn’t heard the beta’s approach. “May your future together be long and fruitful,” Fletcher continued with the traditional mating best wishes, then dipped his head, his voice lowering to a muted whisper only Noah and Wade would hear. “The pack won’t give you any trouble.”

Noah hadn’t believed they would. Challenge his mate? Not bloody likely.

The taut clench of Wade’s shoulders relaxed a minute degree, the clasp of his hand in Noah’s a little less crushing. He murmured his thanks, as did Noah, and the beta quickly stepped aside to make room for others to offer the customary courtesies to the new alpha pairing.

Surprisingly, several city shifters hugged him. “I hoped to see your father here,” one woman said, graying around the temples so probably the same generation as Noah’s dad. She tightened her embrace, before releasing Noah and smiling. “I always liked him. Admired him for what he did for his family.” Her glance skittered to Wade. “This pack needs more like him.”

“I agree.” Wade nodded. “Noah’s family is wary of trusting us again, but we’re working on that.”

“Maybe they’d feel more welcome if Leslie and I visited,” the woman’s mate said, shaking Noah’s hand. “Remind Noah’s dad and the rest of those boys that some of us never stopped caring about them, no matter what our last alpha commanded.” He beamed at Noah. “Congratulations.”

Noah blinked in amazement. “Thanks.”

“Let me pass. Shove over,” his sister’s dulcet tones disrupted the crowd as well as provoked a few stumbles from city shifters approaching to extend their good wishes and their approval of the alpha mating. “He was my brother before you people suckered him into being your alpha mate. Get out of my way!” Dragging Scott behind her, Lydia elbowed a path to Noah. She yanked him into an embrace that stole the air from his lungs and, at the same time, made him so happy that tears burned his eyes. He squeezed her back, wishing not for the first time that his dad and brothers would have shared this with him, too. “I love you,” Lydia said to him. “You know I only wanted the absolute best for you, right?”

“I know.” Noah relaxed his grip so he could offer her his cheek, which she promptly kissed. “I love you, too.”

She grinned. “Done being mad at me?”

He pretended to consider it. “You owe me a mocha latte,” he said. “Double foam.”

A belly laugh rolled out of his sister, familiar to Noah, like home. “You’re off your aconitum, skippy,” she said, chortling. “Your wolf’s as close to the surface as mine is now. No more chocolate.”

When Noah turned to Wade, his mate shrugged. “Our physiology can’t handle it. Chocolate will make you sick.”

“Well.” Noah frowned. “That sucks.”

“But you’re walking steadier. I saw that for myself. Worth giving up a few pieces of candy in trade, if you ask me,” Scott said. That was debatable as far as Noah was concerned, but his old physical therapist pulled him into a hug regardless. “You’ll let me examine your knees? After?”

Distinctly displeased with losing chocolate, Noah turned to his mate. “There isn’t any reason why Scott can’t resume my physical therapy. Trudy’s my primary, but with Lydia and Scott joining the pack—”

“Your brother-in-law can take over your treatment any time.” Wade pumped Scott’s hand in a hearty shake. “Trudy doesn’t like how that other human physical therapist acts around shifters, anyway, and you’re family.”

Sentimental emotion balled in Noah’s throat, almost choking him. Family. Wade had accepted his sister’s husband, a human, as family. He’d been impressed when his mate had agreed to invite Scott to the full moon hunt. Humans had mated with shifters before. That wasn’t a shocker, but few ever became members of their partner’s pack. Even less attended hunts.

“Your family is important to you, as they should be,” Wade said when Noah gaped at him. “So they are important to me. To us.” He dipped his head at Scott. “
All
of your family.”

It wasn’t a soliloquy, but the gesture was infinitely more romantic. Noah slid his arm around Wade’s waist, and leaning in, he sighed his appreciation. “Thank you,” he managed to mumble.

Wade’s grasp on him tensed. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m glad we could make it.” Scott reached for Lydia’s hand. He angled his jaw at the crowd of milling young adults, who appeared to be in no hurry to join the families mobbing the alpha pair yet. Noah spotted his youngest brother’s dark head, bent as William spoke to a pretty young woman. Noah smiled. Leave it to William to parlay Noah’s mating into a vehicle for obtaining dates.

“We’ve been talking to Noah’s dad and his other brothers,” Scott said. “They’re bitter and angry, too eager to believe the worst, but...” Frowning, Scott shrugged. “If Noah can forgive and move on, they’ll have to do that, too. They’ll come around.”

Noah hoped so. The alternative of a life with no Dad, no Mikael or Geoffrey didn’t bear close contemplation.

“I appreciate what you’re doing for us,” Wade said.

The tide of city shifters kept rolling toward them. Little kids, some of whom were as annoying as Mia and Chase, but some weren’t. The teenagers Noah had tutored and trained with arrived en masse, the girls hugging him, the boys watching the girls’ affection with rapacious envy. Trudy’s congratulatory pat on Noah’s back vibrated his lungs. Tanner reminded him that more sweetbreads waited to replenish his energy once the hunt was over. Noah met new shifters, too. Many were friendly. Some weren’t.

Wade never left his side, Noah’s easy acceptance by most in the pack and Noah’s responding affability toward them a pleased hum on the perimeter of Noah’s senses. That ripple of contentment from Wade seemed to triple with every congratulating shifter who came forward. Wade’s muscles loosened, his smile coming quicker. Wade was...happy.

Because Noah
did
care about him, maybe a little, Noah’s elation also brightened at how well the hunt was proceeding...until Fletcher rejoined them as the last of the young adults finally remembered their manners and welcomed Noah into the pack. The beta had already stripped, a few others in the pack following his example by removing and carefully laying aside shirts, shorts, and shoes.

“Everyone’s ready,” Fletcher said.

Nerves suddenly flaring, Noah jerked his gaze up to meet Wade’s.

“You’ll be fine,” his mate said, lips curving to a confident bow. “Nudity is natural for us, normal. None of them will stare at you. Nobody cares about your scars, I promise.”

Maybe so. But Noah did. He hated that it bothered him, but he cared.

“It’s too dark for you to be anxious about your red hair, either. By moonlight, you look no different than the rest of us. Here, you
are
no different,” Fletcher said and reached out a splayed palm. “Man up, alpha mate. Pass me those clothes.”

“Your first hunt, little wolf.” Ripping his shirt over his head, Wade beamed his encouragement. “It’s time.”

Chapter Ten

Moving with crutches and a leg brace through undeveloped brush and scrublands wasn’t easy. Noah was no wuss. He’d lived on a farm, and he’d helped work that farm, too. He wouldn’t trip if he didn’t have smooth pavement beneath him. Vines snagging his legs, feet, and crutches were a pain in the ass, though, and with his shifter hearing sharpening, snapped twigs resounded like thunderclaps.