Wolf at the Door (4 page)

“Jesus Fucking Christ!”  Darin jerks wildly in surprise and somehow manages to roll off of the bed to crash to the floor in a tangled ball of sheets and flailing limbs.

There’s a low, rasping chuckle from the bed, and Darin can feel the blood rush to his face as he struggles to free himself from the sheets with some semblance of dignity.  He gives up after a few minutes of hopeless struggling and lies back on the floor with a huff, face burning with humiliation and back itchy where it’s pressed against fabric and cool wood.  The bed gives a little squeak, and then Darin can hear Raylan as he pads quietly around the bed. When he looks up, he flushes scarlet.

Raylan’s naked, which isn’t really a surprise to Darin because he remembers putting him to bed like that, but it’s the way that he moves that’s capturing Darin’s attention.  The man is all long lean legs, tanned skin, and rippling muscles, and he’s marvelously unworried about being naked. His body is on full display, and he doesn’t seem to care at all.  He actually seems to puff up a bit under Darin’s gaze, his cock swelling until it’s at half-mast and his shoulders straightening into a solid line.  Even with the bandage around his side, Raylan moves across the floor gracefully, his steps measured and sure, and Darin has a sneaky suspicion that Raylan’s no longer as wounded as he was.

“Do you like what you see?  I personally would love to see more of you, although what little I did manage to get my hands on this morning was more than … pleasurable.” Raylan grins at him, a quick flash of sharp white teeth that makes something in Darin’s gut clench and squirm in anticipation.

He’d thought it was a dream, a fantasy like the ones he has every once in a while, but on second thought he wonders how he ever made the mistake.  It’d been hot and yet sweet at the same time and altogether more powerful than most of his other sexual encounters, which is simultaneously mind-blowing and kind of depressing.

“While you do make a pretty picture all wrapped up, I’m sure you’d be more comfortable on the bed,” Raylan says with a smirk, dark hair tousled and hazel eyes almost amber bright as his lips quirk into a grin.  Darin opens his mouth to say something that he’s sure will be both witty and cutting, but it ends up coming out as a squeak when Raylan leans down and scoops him up off of the floor and into his arms without a sign of strain.

“What in the hell are you doing?”  Darin yells.  He’s not small by any means, and even though Raylan’s obviously not having a problem taking his weight, all Darin can do is think about falling and Raylan’s side, even if he’s got his suspicions about the current state of the wound.  In a way he’s quickly becoming familiar with, Raylan acts before Darin has a chance to speak.

“I’m putting you back where you belong, Darin, in bed, with me preferably.”  Raylan’s voice is even and his eyes are amused when he dumps Darin back onto the mattress.  Raylan climbs in beside him, draping a heavy arm over his waist and pulling him sheet and all firmly against his chest, as he half smiles down at Darin’s flustered expression.

Darin stares up at him, mouth agape for a moment before his eyes narrow and he manages to get his bearings for the first time since waking up.  He can see the restrained tension behind Raylan’s grin, the way it swims in his eyes and tightens the line of his shoulders.  He can feel it in the way Raylan’s arm is gentle but firm, a silent statement of his strength and control.  Darin also notices the moment Raylan becomes aware of his silent scrutiny.

“So I’m just going to go out on a limb here in an effort to break the absolutely crushing tension in this room and tell you that you’re an asshole for showing up furry and bleeding on my patio.  You’re so going to pay to get that thing properly cleaned by the way because bloody stone is not exactly the look I was going for out there.  Plus, I’d really like an explanation for the furry part of that story as well.  Oh and the blood, definitely the blood, too.”  Darin curses his run away mouth silently in the back of his mind, but he’s careful to stay calm and collected on the outside, to meet Raylan’s gaze head on instead of freaking out about the fact that he’s being cuddled by a fucking
werewolf
.

Raylan snorts and shakes his head, and Darin’s hit with a sudden flash of the wolf doing the same thing and he can’t help the short bark of laughter that escapes him even if it does leave Raylan looking at him in puzzlement.  He flaps his one free hand at the man and then looks up at him expectantly.  Raylan sighs, and Darin can feel him stiffen even more, can feel the tension creeping up his spine and as much as he wants answers there’s a part of him that doesn’t like causing Raylan distress.  Fortunately the part of him that wants answers
yesterday
is currently larger and in control, although he’s not stupid enough to think that might not end up changing.

“Alright.  What exactly do you think you know about werewolves?”  Raylan asks the question low and slow, almost as if he’s afraid to say it any louder.

Darin squeezes his eyes shut and resists the urge to bury his face in Raylan’s still wonderfully bare chest.  He can already tell that this conversation is going to be delightful.

Chapter Seven

“So silver?  Is that a real thing, or is that something that they got wrong, too?  I mean, if I come at you with a spoon or something, are you going to break out into hives or run away howling?” he asks curiously from his place across Raylan’s chest, mind totally absorbed with the conversation, and Raylan chuckles low in his throat from where he is propped against the headboard.

“No.  That’s a myth, too.  Silver’s the element of the Moon and the bite is a gift from Her, not the curse the ancients thought it was, so silver’s never had any true effect on us.”

“So you’re basically telling me that generations of people have all thought silver could kill a werewolf, but if they actually went out after one they would’ve just gotten laughed at and then eaten?”  The idea of a myth like that being wrong and still surviving for so many years makes Darin’s head hurt.

“Not necessarily.  If one of us was stabbed or shot in the heart or head with something silver it would take us out but so would a wooden stake if the aim was right and it wasn’t removed so we could heal.  Besides most werewolves don’t make it a habit to eat the people trying to kill them, or people in general.  We’re predators, Darin, never forget that, but we’re people, too.  We have jobs and homes, and lives just like everyone else.  Some of us were born this way like I was, others turned.  Most of us just want to mate, form a pack, and be left alone.  We’re a lot like real wolves in those respects.”

“Mate?”  The word catches Darin’s attention like a bear trap, and he’s suddenly breathless and anxious about what Raylan’s going to say next.

“Wolves and werewolves … we mate for life, especially alphas.  Most of us, alphas I mean, leave our home dens and travel until we find a mate.  Then we mark our territory and settle down.”  Raylan’s eyes are burning as their gazes catch and hold.  “There’s no call stronger than the call of a mate.  We’ll do anything to have what’s ours.  When a mate is involved is when a wolf is at its most dangerous.”

“Oh.”  Darin manages to break away from the almost hypnotic pull of Raylan’s eyes and has to bite his tongue to keep from pushing forward down that line of questioning.  He clears his throat meaningfully and does his best to focus on something else.  It takes him a moment, but he finally manages to come up with another question.

“Your side is healed, isn’t it?”  He tugs absently at the sheet he’s still tangled in and jerks a bit in fright when one of Raylan’s large, warm hands comes down to help him.  After a bit they manage to get him loose and he’s rolling up onto his knees beside Raylan, careful to keep the sheet tucked in around his waist.  Raylan’s nowhere near as modest. He’s stretched naked and shameless across the length of Darin’s bed, hazel eyes watching Darin intently.

“Would you like to look for yourself?”

Darin nods and Raylan simply stretches both of his arms up and folds them beneath his head, silently giving Darin full access to the bandage with an almost challenging lift of his brow.  Darin sucks in a breath and does his best to ignore the tantalizing length of Raylan’s cock lying thick, heavy, and just within reach.  It’s long and tempting, the base wide and the head flushed a deep red, and Darin has to shake his head to clear his thoughts.  There are more important things to focus on besides the way his hands are twitching and his mouth is watering with the need to plaster himself against the werewolf and forsake clothes or work or anything that doesn’t equal hot interspecies sex for the rest of
eternity
.

Almost as if he can sense the direction Darin’s thoughts have taken, Raylan’s cock twitches and there’s suddenly a low rumbling almost growl in the air that makes Darin painfully aware of the fact that his own cock is hard and aching and that he’s wearing only a sheet.  He swallows harshly and reaches out to slide the tips of his fingers across Raylan’s ribs, watching the way his muscles tense and flex as his hand gently tugs at the tape holding the gauze down and peels off the bandage.

The skin beneath is new and pink, and the gash that had laid Raylan open almost to the bone is nothing more than a thin red line that Darin is sure will disappear soon.  He tosses the now useless bandage to the floor beside the bed and can’t help but splay his hand wide across the newly healed area.  He lets it rest there for a moment, trying to ignore the memory of Raylan all bloody and weak that keeps trying to push its way to the front of his mind.  Raylan shifts, one of his hands coming down to capture Darin’s before he can pull it away.  Raylan simply intertwines their fingers and presses them against his side, over the healed wound.

“That’s part of it, the healing.  We’re notoriously hard to kill, Darin, and normally a wound, even one that bad, doesn’t last for long on one of us.”  He says it softly, like he’s trying to reassure Darin that this kind of thing isn’t an everyday occurrence, and strangely it seems to work.  Still there’s something nagging at his brain.

“You almost bled to death on my patio, Raylan. If you normally heal so well, what made that wound different?  Why did it take so long to heal?”

Raylan’s eyes darken and his grip on Darin’s hand tightens, the tension from earlier returning to his shoulders and making his mouth go thin and his jaw hard.  Darin squeezes the hand in his, trying to impart some sort of comfort and support, anything to take that dark look off of Raylan’s face.  Raylan softens and raises their tangled hands up so that he can press a soft kiss against them.

“It was a Huntsman.”  Raylan’s voice is low and harsh, and Darin feels a shiver go down his spine at the darkness his tone still holds.

“A Huntsman?”

“They’re hunters, individuals who’ve vowed to eradicate my kind.  They think we’re monsters, mindless beasts that don’t deserve to live, so they train to kill us, and they’re very good at it.  Their numbers are small, however, so they’re not as much of a threat now as they used to be in a widespread sense.  We can go our entire lives and never see one.”  Raylan sneers, a curling of his mouth that shows teeth that look exceptionally sharp.

“That day in the woods when I met the … uh, furry version of you, was that what you were running from?  A Huntsman?”

“Yes.  I was careless and left too many clues, too many signs that are easily linked back to one of my kind being in the area.  I wasn’t aware that there was one permanently stationed here, otherwise I would have been much more careful when I started carving out my territory.  That day in the woods I was taken by surprise and had to retreat, but when I saw you … well, I couldn’t let you stay out there unprotected.”  The heat is still in Raylan’s eyes when he looks at Darin, a flame of desire burning in his eyes and turning them from hazel to a bright hazel.

Darin runs his tongue across his lips, blushing at the way Raylan’s eyes follow the movement as he tries to focus on the subject at hand.  The seriousness of the talk and even the biting darkness of Raylan’s tone earlier have done nothing to stop the itch in his hands or the creeping desire to throw himself at Raylan’s feet and beg to be taken.  The only thing holding him back is his insatiable curiosity and the need to know exactly what he’s accidentally stepped into the middle of.

“And the wound you had?  Was that caused by some sort of special Huntsman trick?”

Raylan hums low in his throat, his eyes moving down to fix on their intertwined fingers.  He flexes his hand a few times, seemingly distracted, before he looks back up and focuses on Darin’s face once again.

“Yeah, it was probably Wolfsbane.  It’s a flower that’s particularly dangerous to us.  It’s irritating to be around and can throw off our sense of smell bad enough to disorient us, and it can be deadly if it makes it into our bloodstream.  The Huntsman must’ve tipped or coated the bullet with it.  I was lucky that it tore through instead of getting lodged inside of me, but as it was it slowed down my healing.  I should thank you for washing out the wound the way you did. That’s really what helped me.”

It’s all a bit much for Darin, the reality of the situation hitting him all at once.  The knowledge that Raylan had really almost died, that someone had tried to kill him, takes his breath away.  Suddenly he needs to move, needs to be alone and away from Raylan so he can calm his racing mind and just breathe.  He tugs his hand away from the werewolf’s grasp, thankful for the fact that Raylan doesn’t try to stop him.  He slides off the side of the bed, sheet clasped in one hand while the other runs restlessly through his hair.

“I just, I need a minute or two so I’m going to take a shower.  Feel free to use the kitchen for whatever, while I’m gone.”  He’s backing away, his heart racing and mind strangely blank.

“Are you scared of me now, Darin?”  Raylan asks the question softly, his voice surprisingly hesitant and unsure.  Darin can see the hurt in his eyes, and despite the short amount of time they’ve known each other, the thought that he’s hurt Raylan is distasteful.

“No, I swear that’s not it.  It’s just a lot to take in.  A few minutes on my own to think about things should be all that I need.”  He’s not afraid of Raylan, but he needs some space, needs to process what’s happened.