Table of Contents

The Carpenter’s
Fight Disclaimer
Want FREE books?
The Carpenter’s Fight
Blurb Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Notes from the
Author More Books
For You
THE CARPENTER’S FIGHT
FAMILY SECRETS BOOK 3
NOAH HARRIS
 CONTENTS
The Carpenter’s
Fight Disclaimer
Want FREE books?
The Carpenter’s Fight
Blurb Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Notes from the
Author More Books
For You
All Rights Reserved ©
 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or
transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other
electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher,
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other
noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are all invented. Any
similarities to real places, events or people, living or dead, are unintentional.

This book contains sexually explicit content that is intended for a MATURE
AUDIENCE ONLY.

WWW.AUTHORNOAH.COM
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 The dangers of the past call Dean and Mikael back to The Grove for a final reckoning.
Can they stop their love from becoming yet another victim of the battlefield?

It seems too good to be true. Dean and Mikael imagine that they’re finally in for a quiet
and steady life together on the farm. Despite having faced problems beyond imagination,
the two men are managing to build a real relationship together. As the days settle into
blissful domesticity, they’re thrilled to find their newfound love still manages to surprise
them with moments of sweet shyness and flirtation. Owing perhaps in part to Mikael’s
animalistic nature, they’re heating up the bedroom just as much as before. But what else
would you expect when a hunky carpenter and a stubborn farmer find passion and
romance in each other’s arms?

Summoned back to The Grove, Mikael’s ancestral and endlessly complicated home, the
tangles of his family’s roots rise to challenge the couple once again. With war on the
horizon, Mikael and Dean must learn to trust each other and the relationship they’ve
built.
As old wounds demand payment, danger threatens to overtake them all.

From Mikael’s previously unheard point of view, The Carpenter’s Fight delivers tender
romance, primal adventure and steamy M/M scenes. It asks whether we are ever truly
free of our pasts, and regardless of how that question is answered, will it strangle the
promises of love ever after?
Autumn had to be one of his favorite seasons, at least from the perspective of the front
porch in any case. Once the days warmed up, they stayed ideally warm as long as the sun
was up. The world around became a rainbow of colors; yellows, oranges, and reds mixed
with the remaining bits of green in the plants. Dean would probably know what caused
the whole process. The man’s knowledge of plants was more than a little impressive.
Dean was off in the fields, tending to the crops that had a little while to go yet before they
could be harvested.

Mikael would see Dean soon enough, as he wandered out from the rows of plants,
probably with his shirt over his shoulder. He could imagine what Dean’s expression
would be as he appeared, a dreamy happiness borne of pure contentment. Mikael didn’t
know what Dean’s life had been like before he’d come here, but his behavior and
mannerism had been telling. The man had been nervous and tired when they first met, but
despite whatever hesitations he must have had about his new life, he never wavered. Not
once had Mikael seen the man veer off course once he put his mind to it. He adjusted to
new changes with a determination that both scared and impressed Mikael.

Their dog, Jax lay sprawled beside the chair that Mikael was slumped across. The faint
movement of curtains nearby told him that Nix had probably made her way to the
window. The cat was anti-social, even as far as cats went, but at least she wasn’t
aggressive. It would surprise no human to learn that cats often had a difficult time
accepting Mikael’s presence without a lot of spitting and hissing. Nix certainly looked at
him strangely at times, but she never did much more than that, though she would never
get too close to him either. She would grace Dean’s lap now and then, but otherwise she
dozed or just watched them. For a cat that had been on the streets, all spite and survival
instincts, Mikael sometimes marveled at how docile she was. He chalked Nix’s behavior
up to the weird influence Dean had on humans and plants as well as animals.

The entire town had been impressed by how much Dean had managed to accomplish
within a single growing season. Of course, Mikael knew some of them quietly whispered
that it was probably due to Dean’s association with certain individuals from The Grove.
No one really talked about witchcraft in this day and age, yet no matter how you phrased
it, it always came back to that very word. Apparently, Mikael and his pack had the ability
to make a farm prosper and grow if they liked you enough. Mikael snorted at the idea, but
privately wondered just how green a thumb someone could have before it became an
unnatural gift.

Or supernatural for that matter.

Before his thoughts could turn too far down their path, he caught sight of movement in
the fields. Mikael couldn’t hear Dean yet, though if Dean was singing, Mikael would hear
him soon. Dean forgot that even from this distance, Mikael could hear him if he sang, and
was usually embarrassed when reminded. The man didn’t have anything to be
embarrassed about, in Mikael’s opinion. The man wasn’t going to be topping any charts
with his voice, but he could carry a tune, and Mikael liked the way the man’s voice
sounded, indicating Dean’s good mood.

When the singing did come drifting faintly even to his hearing, he smiled, waiting. Dean
emerged as he had predicted, a soft look of contentment on his face as he eyed the rows
of crops. His light shirt was thrown carelessly over his shoulders as he walked carefully,
dark eyes sweeping his path. He had worked up a sweat, the faint sheen on his bare chest
visible in the lowering light. Mikael had no compunctions about admiring the view. Dean
was smaller than him, but he was compact and solidly a dozen or so pounds heavier than
he looked. After all the work he’d put into the farm, he was pretty much all muscle at this
point. Still, Dean fit perfectly against his body, and all that hardness went soft and pliant
at his touch.

As if sensing his thoughts, Dean looked up, catching Mikael’s gaze with his own. Dean
seemed to realize at the same time that he was singing, glancing off before flushing a
little. Mikael wondered how a man who could so confidently chase him down, face off
against his father and take charge of the rapid shifts of his life, could be the type to blush
when caught singing. Mikael thought the contrast was cute, but he gave the man a break,
letting his eyes rove hungrily over Dean instead.

The change was just that quick, the man’s embarrassed stance shifting almost
immediately to interest. If the dichotomy of the man’s personality was jarring when it
came to little things, it was delicious when it came to sex. Dean in everyday life was
analytical, though not divorced from his emotions. He was determined, confident and
forward thinking. Yet during sex, he melted under Mikael’s touch, obviously craving the
strength of Mikael’s hold, willingly losing himself to Mikael’s command. Dean was no
dainty flower, to be treated with care. Neither was he utterly submissive, the man was not
afraid to push every one of Mikael’s buttons to drive the man to go harder or faster.

He had heard that with relationships, sex didn’t happen as often as time went on. Yet they
were going strong and had no intention of letting up. Mikael knew that part of it was that
werewolves had an uncommonly high sex drive. Even though normal wolves mated only
when in the right season, the spiritual melding of wolf and human had taken the year long
drive of humans, and added in the intensity that came with the seasonal mating for normal
wolves. He at least had that excuse, Dean was apparently just horny all the time.

“I lost my train of thought because of you, mister,” Dean’s wry voice floated up to pierce
his thoughts. The man was smirking slightly as he approached, looking handsome with
his too-long dark hair mussed, and a day’s stubble on his face. “Derailed before it ever
reached the station because you can’t keep it in your pants.”

Mikael motioned down to his crotch, “It’s still in there, no thanks to you. And you lost
your train of thought because I heard you again.”

Dean scoffed, mounting the porch and bending to pet Jax who eagerly rushed forward to
greet him, “We have to talk about that. I have to start learning what your hearing range
is.”

Mikael’s head cocked, “Why, planning on having a conversation I shouldn’t be hearing?”

A small smile quirked at the corner of Dean’s mouth as he watched Mikael, hesitating as
his eyes swept over Mikael’s face, “Something like that. How can I talk to my mistress in
private if you’re able to listen in on every word?”

“Mistress huh? Make the switch on me?” Mikael asked with amusement as he waited for
Dean to make his way over. Mikael couldn’t tell from his face if Dean was looking for
comfort, or something more intimate. Either way, sometimes Dean liked to take his time
when he approached, drawing out the moment or waiting to see if Mikael would close the
distance first. It was a game between the two of them, a game they had never discussed,
let alone laid down the rules for.

“Do they have a name for a male mistress? Second boyfriend?” Dean asked in wonder,
shrugging, “Whatever term works for you.”

Mikael gave his own snort at that, “As if you have the time to cheat on me. Either you’re
here working, eating, sleeping, or moaning with me inside you.”

Dean laughed, the noise soothing to Mikael’s heart, “You’re a romantic, you know that?”
Mikael gave in first, reaching a hand out toward Dean with a smile pulling at his mouth.
Dean’s dark brown eyes seemed to radiate warmth as he accepted, taking Mikael’s hand.
When Mikael pulled him close, he could feel Dean’s muscles bunch and then release.
Dean relaxed against him, and Mikael breathed in the smell of the other man. His senses
weren’t as acute as they would be if he was turned, but they were better than a human,
and could pick up more subtleties. Dean was usually a mixture of dirt, fresh green life,
and a deep earthy smell that was like incense without the smoky tinge. No matter what
the man was doing, he always had the third smell to him, a smell that was purely Dean. A
smell that set his heart fluttering, and sent blood flowing to his groin.

“Sorry I’m kind of gross right now,” Dean told him, unapologetically nuzzling against
Mikael’s neck. For a man who apparently had never been very social or big on touch, he
was certainly affectionate. Mikael rather liked that about him. If Dean only allowed
Mikael to touch him, he would still feel special, but the fact that Dean actively sought out
his touch on a frequent basis made Mikael feel blessed.

“You smell good,” Mikael hummed, brushing his lips against the man’s jaw.

Dean wrinkled his nose, “I forgot that you types like weird smells.”

“You types?”

Dean nodded, once toward Mikael, and then toward Jax, “You types.”

Mikael’s face went blank, his eyes narrowing, “Did you just compare me to the dog
again?”

“Are you seriously going to tell me the comparison isn’t apt in this case? C’mon Mikael, I
probably reek right now, but you both just happily sniff away,” Dean’s face twitched as
he struggled to keep himself from laughing at the offended expression on Mikael’s face.

“I’m not sniffing,” Mikael huffed, “And you do smell good. You don’t smell sweaty, you
smell…good.”

Dean made a face, “You’re crazy. You’re the one who can work all day in the burning sun
and come back smelling like sawdust and spice.”

“Spice?” That was a new one, he’d never heard Dean describe how he smelled before.

“Yeah, you always smell like that, but it’s stronger when you’ve been working. It’s
stronger when you’re mad, or horny, but it’s a little different then too…is that weird?”
Suddenly the man looked apprehensive, wondering if he had somehow given offense.

Mikael blinked as his mind caught up with Dean’s words, “You’re…smelling the musk,
no shit?”

Dean’s nose wrinkled at that, “I hate that word.”

“Shit?”

Dean swatted him with a snort, “No, musk. Anytime I think of that word, it just makes
me think of musty, so it’s not…it’s just gross to me.”

“That’s what it’s called,” Mikael explained patiently, running a finger over the man’s
bare hip.

Dean’s eyes followed the finger, “Well fine, but don’t expect me to like it. Is it weird that
I can smell it?”

“Most humans can, it’s what makes them so leery of us. Mother always said it reminds
them of when they were prey to our predator. Most don’t even realize they’re smelling
anything, just that I make them a little nervous. But you’re the first person I know of who
describes it differently.”

Dean’s frown creased his brow, “I…so I’m weird again?”

“It’s not really…spicy to us werewolves,” Mikael told him, following the man’s gaze,
“But I can see why you would say that. I never knew you could smell it.”
Dean nodded, “It’s like…I know it’s not a spice, but it reminds me of the deep, heavy,
and almost spicy smell of sandalwood. But when you’re mad, it gets kinda sharp, like the
way hot sauce can burn your nose just by smelling it, but not that bad. It gets…um…
really good smelling when you’re in the mood.”

“The mood, huh?” His fingers found their way around Dean’s hip, squeezing to make it
clear what sort of mood he was in.

Dean made a show of sniffing the air, “Mmm, not quite there yet. Only happens when
you’re really there.”

“Can’t believe I never knew this,” Mikael laughed, “Way to take months to tell me.”

“Probably because it only started a couple of months ago. Guess I just started picking up
some of your senses through sleeping with you,”

Mikael bent, kissing Dean’s lips gently before pulling away with a small laugh. The game
was on again, Mikael could sense it. Dean had sensed his hunger, but was going to make
him wait for it. This would be one of those nights where they drew close and then away,
daring the other to make the move that would have them naked and pressed against one
another. If the devilish look in his eyes was any indication, Dean was aiming to have a
night where they were both so ready to go that Dean ended up with another set of finger
shaped bruises on his hips.

Dean made for the house. “Come on you, we can talk about weird smells some other
time. You’re gonna help me with dinner real quick.”

From the quick way he ran from him, Mikael immediately realized that Dean was keeping
something from him. Mikael had seen him do it before, and knew that the physical
distance would only be temporary. Some part of Dean always seemed to be afraid that if
they stayed curled up together, he would have to deal with whatever he was thinking
about before he was ready to face it. It didn’t mean the game was over, but it meant that
Mikael should let him dodge for now.

Plus, he loved the hell out of Dean’s cooking.

The farm seemed to have its own little time zone, one that was completely cut off from
the rest of the world. Any real worry or fear he had melted away when he was on the
property, and time itself seemed to slow to a crawl, yet move faster at the same time.
Somehow, he felt more at home on the farm than he ever had while living in The Grove.
He would have suspected magic of some sort, if the stuff was still around, but knew it
was more Dean’s presence than anything else.

With winter right around the corner, there was plenty of work for Mikael. Nearly
everyone around the county needed someone to come out and make sure this or that
building was braced for the coming winter. Something somewhere always needed better
insulation, or a few holes patched up. There was always a lot of patching work during the
autumn, and he found himself busy more often than not.

Time went by with an agonizing slowness when he was working, which was a first. Once
upon a time, work had been the only worthwhile thing in his life. Building things had
given him an escape from the pressures and demands upon his life. It had only been a
temporary escape of course, there was always his pack, always his father and the
associated anxiety. And even when he was working, the sound of hammering, the hum of
a screw gun, the sound of a saw against wood, all it ever did was cover the turmoil inside
him. The noise and pressure only became duller, it never went completely quiet.

Yet, being here on this farm, watching Dean coax a pair of sheep to eat, was more
soothing to that anxiety than anything else had ever been. Despite how fierce and
downright stubborn the man could be, he had a gentle hand when it came to just about
everything. The sheep had wanted nothing to do with Mikael, but were quickly warming
up to Dean. What had been quiet, meek animals, were now a couple of wooly
noisemakers, following Dean around the small yard Mikael had built for them at Dean’s
request. A sample of the wider pasture, to ease them into the new environment and allow
them to adjust to the presence of the cows and goats that Dean had already acquired.

Mikael’s peace of mind was marred only by the fact that eventually they would have to
go back to The Grove, and soon at that. They hadn’t returned since the summer when
Dean had willingly thrown himself into the ring against Mikael’s father. The memory of
how willingly, how stupidly Dean had thrown himself into the jaws of potential death,
and his
own cowardice at standing back until it was almost too late, still clenched his gut. It was
really the only thing that still hung in the back of his mind, lurking and upsetting his
generally content mood.

He knew that they would have to talk about that at some stage; he had a lot to own up to.
Like the coward that had stood by and watched until the very end, he had yet to broach
the subject. Any pride he might have found in finally taking a stand against his father was
lost in the shame that he had let it happen at all. The truth was, he was afraid to bring it
up, to hear that Dean thought he was the coward Mikael knew himself to be. He was also
concerned that talking about it would make them relive the events all over again, and he
just wanted to get past it.

As if sensing his thoughts, Dean glanced up from his spot near the sheep, the smile on his
face faltering. Mikael wondered what his face was showing to make Dean suddenly look
so concerned. Even as he smiled to try to assuage the other man’s sudden worry, he
wondered how Dean managed to be so strong. It wasn’t that because he was a werewolf
he thought he should automatically be tougher than a human, but he was constantly
surprised by Dean’s calm strength. Dean always rolled with whatever came at him,
accepting things and dealing with them as they came.

Even from here, he could see the furrow in Dean’s brow as the man ushered the sheep
into the barn. He had only a few minutes before Dean came marching back up to the
house, trying to pry out whatever was going on in Mikael’s head. Mikael knew he wasn’t
quite up for that particular conversation yet, and quickly made his way into the house
once Dean was out of sight. If he started dinner, Dean would get distracted and leave him
to his preparations.

Passing by the living room, he paused at the sight of the large leather-bound book on one
of the living room side tables. Even from here he could smell the aged paper and leather
as it sat in a shaded part of the room. Dean wasn’t normally one to leave the old books
laying out, but it was obvious that he had been careful to keep it out of the setting sun. He
had been enthralled by the old books lately.

Mikael would be lying if he said that he wasn’t curious about what the other man had
learned. Yet he hadn’t asked, and Dean hadn’t offered up any tidbits. For all the man’s
fire and drive, he still very much lived in his own head, keeping most things to himself
until he had time to mull them over. Mikael had learned that by the time Dean came out
with something, he’d already set his mind to it, or had at least come to a strong
conclusion. This trait was probably what made the man so inhumanly stubborn at times.
In this case however, Mikael thought that Dean was probably just letting what he was
reading rattle around in his head before bringing it up.
Mikael didn’t have the right mindset for digging through old stories like that, so he was
content to let Dean do it on his own. New and sacred duty aside, Dean seemed to get
pleasure out of the study. He’d told Mikael once that he enjoyed puzzles, saying that he
liked trying to wrap his head around something until he could figure out the answer. That
comment had made Mikael realize that Dean enjoyed a good challenge. And throwing his
life on its head to move out to the farm and start anew had been one more sign of that.
The dirty look Dean had given him when Mikael had commented to that effect had kept
Mikael from voicing it again, but didn’t keep him from believing it was true.

By the time he’d pulled the steaks out and started treating them, he heard the thumps in
the front hall signaling Jax’s entry into the house. That meant Dean was home as well. It
was difficult for Mikael to hear the man’s soft footsteps as he walked down the hall over
the sounds of the dog bouncing all over the place. Mikael would swear the dog lived
simply for making as much chaos as possible.

There were faint sounds of exasperation from Dean before he heard the man quietly
admonishing the dog. The thumping faded as Dean’s soft voice floated up from the
hallway. Mikael knew full well the other man was speaking to the dog, in full-fledged
sentences. Much as Mikael wanted to laugh at it, he would swear the dog actually
understood Dean sometimes. Then again, he supposed a lot of people felt like that when it
came to animals and their treasured masters.

With the dog calm, he could hear Dean’s soft footfalls come up behind him, and spoke as
Dean entered the room, “Did you manage to get your point across?”

Mikael couldn’t see his face, but he could hear the smile in Dean’s voice, “I think I got
the most important points across. Mainly that I don’t need him breaking a table…again.
Especially with my grandfather’s book sitting out in the open.”

Mikael perked up at that, Dean rarely mentioned anything to do with his studying, “I
noticed you left it laying out. Normally you treat that stuff with more care than most
humans do with their old family bibles.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Dean plop down in a chair, “Human huh? Werewolves
don’t do the Christian thing then?”

Mikael shrugged, “Not really. We have the whole ‘child of the soul of the Earth and
Moon’ thing going for us. I imagine some other packs have a few Christian werewolves.
Not ours though.”

Dean’s face bunched up in thought, “You know, I sometimes forget that there are other
packs in the world. Even if it makes complete sense.”

Mikael raised a brow, “Probably should keep that in mind. We haven’t had issues with
any nearby ones so far, but we don’t stay on alert for the fun of it. I’ve been hearing some
troubling rumors about the nearest pack.”

“Rumors?”

Nodding as he turned to get the vegetables, rummaging about in the fridge, Mikael said,
“Yeah. They’ve been building their numbers, pulling in more loners and strays. Usually a
pack is picky about the outsiders they allow into their pack, but our friendly neighbors to
the north have been pretty much stockpiling Weres. They’ve been recruiting hard, and it’s
had us on alert.”

He heard the raise of a brow more than he saw it, “Closing sale, everything must go?”
Dean commented.

Mikael snorted, “Something like that. That’s usually the kind of behavior that says that a
pack is getting ready to do something big. Get in as many bodies as possible.”

“Shock troops.” The first hints of trouble entered Dean’s voice.

Mikael’s face twisted in dislike, “Pretty much. I never claimed werewolves were nice
about stuff.”

Dean’s movement caught his eye, he rubbed at the side of his face where Mikael’s father
had struck him, voice wry, “You know, I think I figured that out.”

Mikael stared for a moment, wondering if this was the moment when he should finally
say something about what had happened. The moment where he drew on whatever
meager reserves of courage he felt he had, and finally addressed the touchy subject.
Dean’s eyes
found his, and he made a face that was almost apologetic before shifting in the chair.

Dean broke the stretching silence, “Not like humans are any better. You would expect
werewolves to be more aggressive than usual I guess, but you guys aren’t the ones who
are responsible for a couple of world wars. Makes me wonder which part of you guys
really makes you the most aggressive when I think about it.”

Mikael raised a brow, privately thankful for the out, “Going to start getting philosophical
on me over there, babe?”

Dean snorted, “Babe, huh? That’s something we’re going to get into now.”

“Would ‘baby’ work better for you?”

Dean’s face scrunched, as he made a low noise of disgust, “You’re cute, but you aren’t
cute enough to get away with that one.”

Mikael cocked a brow, turning away from the food to face Dean. Carefully, he arranged
himself so that he was leaning against the counter, muscles rolling as he subtly pushed his
hips forward. He let his eyes roam over Dean’s body slowly, and with a less than subtle
intent. Dean’s brow raised in surprise at the sudden shift, mouth opening, making it all
too easy for Mikael to remember that mouth all over his body.

Both needy and demanding, his voice was a low rumble in his chest as he let his easy lust
for the other man shine through, “But baby, do you know how hard it makes me to think
of calling you that?”

Dean’s eyes were wide enough to be comical, and Mikael almost ruined his entire show
by bursting into peals of laughter. The man’s mouth worked for a moment, tongue
nervously running along his bottom lip. From where he was, Mikael couldn’t actually see
the physical results of his little act, but he was attuned enough to Dean to know. If the
suddenly demanding presence of the usually subtle smell around Dean was any
indication, Dean’s pants had just got a whole lot less roomy than before.

Dean swallowed hard, his voice rough as he answered, “Okay, you can call me whatever
you want. Jesus.”
The act was quickly becoming much more as he watched Dean struggle to get a hold of
himself. The whole fun of their back and forth game came from trying to break down the
other man’s willpower and impressive self-control. And it got even better for Mikael
when he managed to find just the right way to strip away Dean’s cool front in an instant.
He loved that he could see the fall of the barriers that Dean held against the rest of the
world. And it was even better, rawer, when he was in the man at the time, with Dean
demanding and begging for more. It was in those moments that Mikael felt the most alive
and certain of himself, and he savored every moment.

Mikael cocked his head, smiling slowly, “Thought you might say that.”

“That’s cheating,” Dean huffed, finally averting his gaze to stare out the window.

“No, it’s fun,” Mikael laughed lightly, turning back to preparing their dinner. He let the
pan heat up as he worked. “Still wanna talk about werewolf stories and pack habits?”

Dean cleared his throat, “Both are interesting you know.”

“Couldn’t tell from the way you’ve been obsessively reading about them. Don’t touch the
things for weeks, then one day you pick them up and you haven’t put them down.”

“Hey,” Dean protested, “I am not obsessing over them.”

“Uh huh,” Mikael wasn’t even trying to hide the disbelief in his voice, “you haven’t gone
a day without spending at least an hour going over the stuff. Are you going to tell me this
conversation hasn’t made you think about picking that book up and reading it again?”

Dean shifted, “In my defense, it is interesting. Don’t you think so?”

Mikael shrugged, “Truth be told, not very much. I’m sure there’s plenty of stuff in there
that I haven’t heard before, but I was raised on the basic stories, so it’s not as interesting
to me. I think it’s so interesting to you because you’re just coming into it. It’s all new and
shiny to you.”
“Not totally true,” Dean leaned back, the tension Mikael had brought to his body easing,
“My grandfather did tell me some of the stories. Of course, I thought they were just
stories, I never really believed that anyone else actually told them, let alone handed down
through generations. Always thought he’d made them up and was passing them onto me.
He liked stories.”

“Something else you have in common with him,” Mikael smiled, “Maybe this is your
way of making it up to him?”

Dean shifted in his seat uneasily, “I guess? Never really thought about it like that. Hmm,
guess I do feel kind of guilty now that I know Grandfather’s stories weren’t all fairy tales.
I just can’t figure out if he wanted to prepare me for learning the truth one day, or if he
wanted to try to get me there himself.”

Mikael smiled, “Bet he never thought you’d end up trying to date the truth.”

Dean eyed him, the faint pain on his face disappearing behind a smirk, “The dating was
an accident. I just wanted you for your body.”

Making a mock offended noise, Mikael turned to the food, “Wound me why don’t you?”

“Uh huh,” Dean hummed, sounding cocky, “You going to tell me you had purely
innocent intentions for me?”

“As clean and pure as white cotton,” Mikael protested, knowing full well that they both
knew it to be a damned lie.

Mikael remembered hearing that the old man’s unused farm was going to be taken over
by a grandson about the same time he’d been contracted to do some upkeep on the
property. Before Dean had arrived, Mikael had heard that the man taking over was both a
city kid, as well as a relative of a long-time resident of the area. In truth, he had expected
a well- meaning, if bumbling guy who would struggle out here for a few years and then
leave. He’d pictured some haggard guy, tired of living in the city, hoping to come here
and relive the days of his childhood, only to eventually be crushed by the sheer weight of
the work that the property needed.
Yet when Dean had opened that door the first day Mikael had come over, all of his
expectations had been swept away. At the sight of dark brown eyes gazing questioningly
up at him, Mikael had felt his heart stuttering in his chest. The truth was, he didn’t even
remember what he’d said to Dean in those first few moments.

Instantly, he had been charmed by the smaller man, who was so obviously tired and yet
brimming to with excitement and wonder at everything around him. Even then, Mikael
had clearly seen the plans and ideas practically bursting out of Dean, waiting to be made
real. Mikael had spent half his time trying to keep up with the conversation, and the other
half wondering what it would feel like to wrap his hands around the man’s waist.

He’d never dreamed that anything would come of it, even as he’d fantasized while
standing right in front of him. There was too much to risk, too much in their way, and
hell, he wasn’t even sure at that first meeting if Dean was into guys. That night on the
couch in front of some movies had been…eye opening. Everything that happened after
that had felt natural, unavoidable, and while a strong part of him wished that he had been
more help, he would always be grateful that Dean was so damned hardheaded.

Dean leaned over the table to eye the man, “You’ve got that look on your face.”

Mikael looked up, blinking, “What look?”

“The one that says you’re thinking about the past,” Dean noted, poking the nearby bowl
of fruit experimentally as if contemplating having something before dinner.

“Don’t even think about it,” Mikael grumped at the man, huffing slightly, “And I
wasn’t… Well, not that way.”

“Uh huh,” Dean didn’t sound as if he believed Mikael, “Then what way was it?”

Mikael leaned over the skillet, poking the steaks before finally flipping them, “The way
that makes me realize just how much I love you.”

There was a scrape of a chair and then the press of the other man’s body against his.
Dean’s arms wrapped around his chest, as his face burrowed between Mikael’s shoulder
blades. The strength in Dean’s arms felt good, and the deep breath Mikael felt him take,
breathing in Mikael’s scent, was oddly soothing.

“Love you too,” Dean mumbled, voice muffled against Mikael’s back, “you dirty cheater.”

Mikael laughed, he could accept that.

The smell of freshly cut wood filled his nose as he did the last checks of the stained
wood. He was sure that these stairs had been a safety hazard before he’d worked on them.
The wood had been severely warped and splintering dangerously. One wrong step on the
wrong day and the whole thing would have cracked or tipped, and sent the unlucky
person to the ground.

“Lookin’ mighty fine there,” Mr. Williams’ voice came from behind him, bringing him out
of his analysis.

Mikael smiled at the older man, “Thanks, these should be a lot safer for the two of you.”

“That about all you got left to do, then?” The older man asked, looking at the rest of the
house.

Mikael nodded, “Yes sir. The railing on the front porch was a quick fix, and it’ll last you
a good handful of years yet now. Shutters have been fixed and painted, and I finished the
couple of windows that needed some fixing up just before I started the stairs.”

Mr. Williams nodded, and it was then that Mikael noticed the man held a brown glass
bottle in his hand, the label hidden by his grip. Without any preamble, he handed the beer
to Mikael who took it gladly, “Well, let’s try out these stairs then. Join me up on the
porch would ya? A day’s good work deserves a beer and a sit I say.”

Mikael was grateful for the friendly offer, and he could certainly use the beer. He’d
planned to have the day off until Dean had the bright idea of dragging him over to the
Williamses. Dean got to stay in the cooler house and help Mrs. Williams while she did
her housework and cooking, and Mikael had been relegated to repairs in the sun. Mikael
got the sense that Dean felt beholden to the couple for some reason, but Dean never said
much more than, “Got some sense talked into me, just be happy for it.”

Whatever that meant.

As he took his place on the swinging seat on the porch, he could hear Mrs. Williams
chattering away in the house, Dean’s happy tones mingling. The older woman didn’t like
Mikael, though she was very polite and tried to hide it. It was hard to hide that sort of
thing from a werewolf though. Reading body language was instinct for werewolves, and
it was hard to miss the way she tightened up when he was around. It was hard to tell if her
discomfort was because of where he came from, or if she was one of those humans who
reacted instinctively to the presence of a werewolf.

Mr. Williams appeared to have none of those problems however, the man had always
been quite friendly with him from the first time they’d met. There were a few of those
around town, people who bore no ill will toward him because of where he had been born
and raised. Though, since he and Dean had returned from The Grove, the man’s
interactions had become considerably friendlier. Mikael would certainly pay to know
where that had come from, and he would bet money that it had some sort of connection
with whatever had Dean so fond of the two of them.

The sun hadn’t quite hit the horizon yet, so the day was still quite warm. Mikael had to
hand it to whoever had built the house, they had chosen its placement pretty well. The
porch was situated so that someone sitting on it could enjoy the setting sun without
suffering in its heat. Eventually the sun would set and the hot day would quickly become
a cool evening. Color was really springing up around them, nature blooming in all bright
fire hues. The sky was already going pink and darkening, seeming to mix with the reds
and oranges of the trees stretching up to the sky.

“Pretty,” he noted, sipping the beer and deeply appreciating the taste after a hot day of
work in the sun.

“Certainly makes up for a lot, don’t it?” Mr. Williams asked, sounding perfectly content,
gently swinging in the seat as he watched the sky.

Mikael hummed in agreement, “I know it’s even better when it’s over land of your own.
Land you’ve grown on, raised, taken care of.”

“Aye,” the older man agreed, “Make you wish ya had done different?”

“Naw,” Mikael shook his head. “I like what I do, and I’m pretty darn good at it. I just
figured it was like that. Dean does it a lot, will just sit on his porch, watching everything
as the sun sets. He’s done it when the sun rises too, like he’s breathing it all in.”

Not once had Mikael dared to interrupt Dean during this morning ritual of his. Not just
because Dean was fairly grumpy in the morning, but because it seemed private, sacred. It
was one thing to sit with the man on his porch at the end of a hard day’s work, enjoying
his sometimes quiet, sometimes chatty presence. But those mornings? They seemed to
breathe more life and energy into Dean than even the cups of coffee that he would down
before the day became too hot for him to have more. Sometimes Mikael would watch him
through a window. He feelt a bit creepy for doing so, but couldn’t stop himself from
watching the light hit Dean’s face as he looked out on everything he had done.

A low chuckle brought his attention up to the older man once more, who was looking at
him knowingly, “What?”

“Nothin’,” the old man said, still smirking, “I suppose I just forgot what young love looks
like. Happens when you get to my age, I suppose.”

Mikael jerked in surprise. Between that and the look of open surprise he probably had
plastered on his face, the man chuckled again. “Aye.”

Mikael’s eyes jumped to the nearby window, where the other two could still be heard, and
Mr. Williams nodded, “Yeah, she knows too. Kinda hard not to. Know you got a home
back in The Grove, but you spend your days and nights with him. Half the town is talkin’
about it.”

He could only blink, “So… that’s why she…”

Stopping, he thought better of finishing his thought. Mr. Williams seemed to pick it up
easily anyway, “That ain’t it. She’s that way because of where you’re from, not because
of anything you’re up to with Dean. Her and I… We’ve had our time to get past that sort
of thing. She’s just stuck in that way of thinkin’ when it comes to your folk.”

Mikael sat back in a flop, beer loose in his hand, “So… the whole town huh?”

“Like I said, hard to miss in a town like this,” Mr. Williams replied, sounding perfectly
comfortable. “Might not be a common thing out here, what with the small amount of folk,
but it’s been known to happen. That and it ain’t like folk don’t know that it happens.
Surprised no one’s said anything to ya yet, or at least acted funny. You know how people
‘round here can be, most will keep it to themselves, but there’s always those who can’t
for one reason or another.”

Mikael huffed at that, knowing the other man was right, “Well, they haven’t…not yet at
least. I mean, I guess a couple were acting a little stranger than usual. Come to think of it,
I thought it was weird that Alice was acting kinda weird around me, almost sad when I
went out there to fix up their coop again.”

That made Mr. Williams chuckle again, “That girl held a torch for you forever. I
remember the first time she saw you, cuz I was visiting her daddy at the time. You
showed up, tool belt on, tool chest in hand, and the poor girl looked like she was hearing
wedding bells. Aye, I imagine the rumors and talk probably did make her a bit uneasy,
and more than a little sad.”

Shifting uncomfortably, he huffed, “Didn’t know it was quite that bad.”

He had known she was interested, and he had been more flattered than uncomfortable.
She was a sweet woman, earnest and lively, and the only person in town with the very
noticeable bright green eyes and auburn hair that marked precisely where her ancestors
hailed from. Though she was obviously interested, she had never done anything but be
her kind and friendly self with him, so he hadn’t given it much thought until now.

“Hell,” he muttered, “I sure hope she wasn’t…waiting or anything.”

Mr. Williams shrugged, “Sometimes we wait for something that’ll never come, that’s life
for ya. She built a dream up in her head was all, maybe with that gone she’ll have a
chance to build a dream in life.”

That made him feel a little better, drawing a smile to his face, “Bit of a romantic are you,
Mr. Williams?”

The farmer actually smirked at him, “Says the man who got all misty-eyed thinking about
someone standing outside at sunrise.”
Wasn’t much that he could say to that, other than to flush, the color rising to his face as
surely as the heat he could feel flaming there. In all honesty, save for a few casual
comments from his family, no one had really caught him reacting to his thoughts of Dean
so obviously. He found it was embarrassing, which was to be expected, but there was also
a warm sense of pleasure there as well. Something about being so enamored with Dean
that it showed whenever Mikael thought about the other man struck Mikael as an
intensely happy situation.

“Your face gives a lot away,” Mr Williams mused, eyeing Mikael with something akin to
pleasure.

Mikael felt his face warm even more, “Err, sorry.”

“Nah,” the older man waved a dismissing hand at him, “It’s nice to see. Might not be the
type of thing you see in the movies, or written in books, but it’s nice. People get older,
but young love is forever. Makes you feel a little younger yourself when ya see it
actually.”

“Ever considered being a poet, Mr. Williams?” Mikael asked wryly, recovering a little
and taking the chance to tease the man.

“Me? Nah,” he replied, sounding utterly unperturbed by Mikael’s jab, “My prose is
terrible.”

“Your-”

“Are you guys out here talking about literature of all things?” Dean’s voice rose from the
other side of the porch, surprising Mikael. He turned to find the man standing off the
porch in the grass, looking more than a little pleased with himself. Dean knew full well
that he had surprised Mikael, and if the slight movement of the swing had been any
indication, he’d had surprised Mr. Williams as well.

“Somethin’ like that,” Mr. Williams replied, leaning forward to squint at Dean, “you
mind tellin’ me why you’re sneaking around my yard, instead of helping my wife? She
ain’t let you off the hook this early has she?”

Dean shook his head, mischief still glittering in his eyes as he looked between them, “She
had me run something out real quick. Then she wanted me to tell you that it’s time for
you two to get to-”

The door burst open and Mrs. Williams came marching out, her gaze moving between the
three men critically, “Are you three gonna come in this house and get ready to eat or sit
out here like stumps?”

Dean shifted under the woman’s stern expression, “I was just telling them, Mrs.
Williams.”

She raised a delicate brow, “Looks to me like you’re playin’ around down there instead.
Don’t give me that look Dean, I know men. The lot of you never stop bein’ boys. Now
quit playing around. Be a dear, and go get the pie onto the rack so you can wash up.”

Mikael watched Dean shuffle out of view quickly, apparently the surprisingly bold man
didn’t stand much of a chance against the older woman’s disapproval. He understood why
when she turned demanding eyes in his direction. “And you two. Dinner is fit to be cold if
you don’t hustle. Come on now, you can bring your beer to the table.”

With a wry smile, Mr. Williams heaved himself from his place on the swing. Mikael
watched as he shuffled over to kiss his wife on the cheek. Something soft was whispered
into her ear, though he only heard the soft tones and not the actual words. Mikael could
see the softening of her expression as her husband moved away. She was obviously trying
to look stern, but it was also obvious that whatever her husband had said to her brought
about a change that made her look almost fluttery and years younger and softer. Maybe it
wasn’t just young love that made a person feel young again, if the blush on her face was
any indication.

Mr. Williams shuffled into the house, looking pleased with himself. When Mikael made
to slide past the woman, he felt her small, but surprisingly strong hand press against his
chest, stopping him from going further. She waited, letting her husband move into the
house and out of view. There was a beat, and then he could hear Dean talking to the man
from within the kitchen. It was only then that she lowered her hand, letting the door to the
house close beside her.

There was still another pause, and he could sense that she was gearing herself up to
speak. He wasn’t quite sure if he was going to like what she had to say, but he had the
feeling he was going to hear it one way or another. Whatever her husband had said
had certainly
softened the tough look on her face, but some of the steel was coming back into her spine.

When she finally looked up at him, he was struck by how much smaller she was than him.
It wasn’t unusual for him to stand over others, he had certainly inherited his father’s size.
Mikael was a good bit taller than Dean, but Dean was almost a head taller than this
woman, which meant that Mikael practically towered over her, and his shoulders were
almost two of hers. He could almost picture what she’d looked like as a younger woman,
a slip of a woman with bright blue eyes, and the ebony hair that he’d seen in an old
picture of her. She would have been stunning, and it wasn’t hard to see what Mr.
Williams would have been drawn to.

Her gaze narrowed for a moment, the unflinching gaze searching for something in his
face. It also wasn’t too hard at this moment to see which of the married pair was the
toughest. Mr. Williams may have run and worked on this farm, but the look on her face
told Mikael exactly who cracked the whip. When Dean’s laughter echoed through the
house, he was struck by a bizarre sense of deja vu. The eye color could not have been
more different, but the look in them was so utterly familiar it was disarming.

“How do you two do that?” The question leaving his mouth before he could think about it.

Her brow quirked again, “Whatever are you going on about, Mikael?”

“You and Dean,” he attempted as a way of explanation.

“What about us?”

He shifted uncomfortably, feeling the comparison even more strongly the longer she
looked at him, “You…guys are kinda scary sometimes…for little people.”

That seemed to amuse her, “You really think that size means anything Mikael? That how
things are done out where you’re from?”

She made it sound like he lived hundreds of miles away, in some foreign land, “I…no,
that’s not…”
“Listen to me Mikael,” she cut across him, “I’m not a woman to repeat herself, alright?
First of all, you better get whatever fool idea you have in your head about size out of
there. Ain’t nothing wrote anywhere that says you have to be big to be tough. You gonna
tell me that your man bein’ smaller than you makes him weaker?”

They both knew the answer to that, the look on her face told him that even though he was
silent, she knew what he would answer if he could find his tongue. In the bedroom,
Mikael was the one who ruled the roost. In everything else, Mikael considered Dean the
much more capable person. The man had lived how many years on his own? He’d learned
to do most things on his own, keeping house, running his life as he saw fit. Then he’d left
all of that behind and started anew, never backing down for long, only gathering his will
to tackle the problem once more when initially thwarted.

“Trust me,” he finally said, realizing she was waiting for him to say something, “I’m
aware of that. I kinda wonder if it’s because you guys are small.”

She snorted at that, “Men. Has nothing to do with him being little, or at least little
compared to you. Can’t say I know much about what happened after he stopped coming
around here as a boy, and when he came back I barely knew him. But I know enough. I
know he’s lost much, and I know he’s been on his own for a long time. That can change a
person.”

“Made him stronger,” Mikael agreed, unable to keep the respect out of his voice, though
he didn’t really try either.

“Aye,” she replied, her cadence an almost eerie reminder of her husband, “that it did.
That man is tough, just like his grandfather was, but he’s got more of a fighter in him. But
that don’t mean he can’t be fragile, that toughness makes him more fragile. That’s what
I’m worrying my head over right now.”

“Fragile?”

She gave him a look at the disbelieving tone, “Yes, fragile, not that I’ll be foolish enough
to say that around him. Boy might respect and like me just fine, but he ain’t scared of me
like you seem to be.”

Lord, had she always been this blunt, or was he just unlucky?
“That boy has been alone for so long, and is used to doing things on his own. Fought for
every scrap that he’s got,” she continued, ignoring his nonplussed expression. “Ain’t had
no one but himself to rely on, and now he’s comin’ to rely on you, probably already does.
The minute he started doing that, he opened himself up big time. Man like him does
something like that, he’s bound to put everything into it, like he’s done with everything
else. Gonna be willing to tear himself apart to have it too.”

As she spoke, Mikael could clearly see the look Dean had given him, both when Mikael
had reappeared after his first departure at the beginning of their friendship and when he’d
sent Dean away at his father’s orders. Mikael had ignored that expression, ignoring the
ache in his own chest as he’d shoved Dean away from him, driven by his own sick
cowardice. A cowardice he’d seen clearly when Dean had been the one to stand up
against Mikael’s father. Dean had been willing to be beat into the ground that day,
perhaps worse if he thought it was necessary.

Mikael couldn’t hold her gaze with those thoughts in his mind. Instead he found her shoes
so much more interesting to focus on. Feeling more than seeing her disapproval, he
winced. There was no hiding the guilt that he felt at her words.

“Mmm,” she grunted, sounding more than a little unhappy, “That’s what I thought. You
make that boy happy, ain’t gonna deny that. Not hard to see that he loves you, ain’t hard
to see that you love him either. But I also know you’ve been putting that boy through hell,
and I don’t know why. Don’t right care either, that’s your business. But what is my
business is if you keep hurtin’ that boy, I’ll make you regret the day you ever came outta
The Grove to work in this town.”

A wrinkled, though surprisingly strong finger came up to his chin, pushing his face up so
that it stared down into hers, “You hear me? That man is already showing that he’d give
up everything for you, and you better start doing the same. Or do him the favor of leaving
him to hurt and move on in peace.”

A nod was all he could manage, shame bearing down on his shoulders. How she knew all
she knew was beyond him, but she was right. Her words were everything he had thought
about himself and their relationship, and he knew full well that he had to make up his
mind and stick to it. Dean deserved that much from him.

Her proud march into the house stopped short and when she looked at him, he was
surprised by the softness in her features, “Mikael. Love is only as hard as you make it,
remember that too.”
It was another drowsy day for him because he’d woken up early to go out to another
farm. This time it had been an entire porch that had needed repair, rather than just the
stairs. The day had been warm again, which meant that by the time he had come home,
he’d felt more tired than usual. His attempts at being more lively had failed him, and he
could feel the day’s heat still lingering deep in his muscles.

Dean had still been milling about in the yard, finishing up some last-minute tasks when
Mikael had decided to lay down for a little while. He knew better than to try and get in
the other man’s way when he was fussing with the little things. It was usually better, or at
least safer, for Mikael to simply stay out of the man’s way and let him work. For some
reason, the detail work brought out a far more serious, and rather picky side of Dean that
Mikael didn’t see in other situations. The man did like things done a certain way, but that
was exaggerated when he focused on the little things.

Which is precisely how he ended up safely in the house, sprawled on the couch, clad only
in a pair of jeans. Jax lay on the floor in front of the couch, sprawled out even more than
he was. The cat may not enjoy his presence, but Jax certainly seemed happy. Dean had
often attributed Jax’s devotion to the fact that Mikael was a werewolf. Which would
make sense if he hadn’t had perfectly friendly dogs go nearly rabid at his presence before.
Mikael was of the mind that Jax was just friendly, and that he was fond of Mikael
because Dean was so happy with him. Mikael knew enough about dogs to know that they
easily sensed that sort of thing, so it probably played a bigger role than anything else. The
frequent belly rubs probably didn’t hurt much either.

It was a testament to just how relaxed he was that he almost missed the soft noise in the
hallway just outside of the living room. He only just heard the gentle scuff against the
floor. Feeling far too comfortable and lazy to check out the noise, he listened carefully.
His hearing was sharper than a human’s could ever hope to be, so he was used to hearing
even the softest of noises.

The next noise was the creak of a board next to the couch, and he knew that it was Dean
trying to be sneaky. He opened his mouth to tell the man he had been caught when he felt
the air shift, then the couch jerk slightly. That was the only warning he got before the
rather heavy weight of the other man landed on him. His breath came out of him in a
startled whoosh, arms flying up to grab hold of Dean as the man settled himself.

He glared at the farmer, “Must you?”

Dean, looking smug, shrugged, “You looked way to comfortable to just leave alone.”

“You couldn’t even see me from behind the couch,” Mikael groused, rubbing at his chest
even if that hadn’t been where Dean had landed. Truth was, Dean had been careful in his
landing, making sure not to cause harm. It was the principle of the matter really, he had
been comfortable damn it.

“Don’t have to,” Dean replied, still looking smug, “I know what you’re like when you’re
laid out on the couch. It’s always super comfortable looking.”

“You look way too pleased with yourself,” Mikael informed him, still trying to glare at
the smaller man and failing at it.

“Not often I get to sneak up on you like that,” Dean was practically preening.

It was then that he noticed Dean wasn’t wearing his jeans. In true, straightforward Dean
fashion, the man had taken to wearing loose shorts under his jeans, joking that it made it
easier for Mikael to have his way with him when they were lounging. Which, despite the
man’s obvious interest in their sex life, made Mikael suspect a different motive. With
shorts instead of underwear, Dean could simply shuck the pants and be immediately ready
to lounge with Mikael.

Mikael snorted, “And I heard you by the way.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, “Really?”

“Really, much as I hate to steal your fun, you’re not as sneaky without grass to hide your
steps,” Mikael shrugged.

For a moment Dean seemed to deflate, until the sparkle returned to his eyes once more,
“Not enough for you to stop me. So that’s good enough, my ambush tactics were a
success.”

Mikael flopped back with a groan, eyeing the man warily, “What do you need to ambush
me for?”

Dean gave a light one shouldered shrug, “Maybe being able to sneak up on a werewolf
could come in handy one day. Plus, it gives me a chance to mess with you with too,
which I think is a good thing.”

“Glad one of us does.”

“Grumpy wolf is grumpy,” Dean intoned in a singsong, “Would it make you feel better if
I said that it made me happy?”

“I think that’s the problem actually,” Mikael informed the man, wondering how much
trouble he would be in if he tossed Dean to the floor. His considerations were thrown off
when he felt Dean ease himself back, the man resting on his knees and pressing enough
against Mikael’s crotch to grab his attention. One of Dean’s hands came up, resting at the
base of Mikael’s stomach and sliding up, fingers tracing the lines as they passed.

“Happy enough to be willing to make it up to you,” Dean told him. And there it was, that
look that went straight to Mikael’s groin. Dean’s dark eyes burned low with barely
repressed need and desire, both demanding and almost pleading for what he wanted from
Mikael. The pressure of Dean’s ass against his crotch intensified as Mikael felt himself
grow hard. Dean was no more his first sexual partner than he was Dean’s. Both had been
with others, though neither had gone unprotected with other partners. This wasn’t even
the first time that Dean looked at him with that expression of hunger, but every time it
made Mikael feel as eager and nervous as if it were his first time.

“Yeah?” He asked, attempting to push himself up from his laying position, needing to
kiss the man. Dean reached forward and held him in place, grinding his hips down as he
did so. Mikael groaned, pleasure sparking from where Dean’s body met his.

“It’s going to be that kind, huh?” His own voice sounded hoarse, eager to feel whatever it
was Dean had in mind. Mikael had a few guesses about that.
One of Mikael’s favorite things about Dean was the man’s face, and not just because it
was a nice face. At rest, the man looked so serious, almost a little grumpy. Yet the minute
he interacted with others, whatever emotion he felt was right there on his face, plain as
day. Usually it was a smile, followed by a laugh, though sometimes, such as when he was
reading something interesting, he looked intense and thoughtful. His face was one of the
most honest things that Mikael had ever seen, and it was no less true when he was
straddling Mikael’s lap. The man was making no attempt to hide the need and desire on
his face as he ground down once more.

It was obvious that Dean wasn’t going to let him sit up, but he could place his hands on
Dean’s hips. In just a few months, the work on the farm had done some fun things to
Dean’s body. The man had been in good shape from the beginning, but the everyday
physical work had made that shape even more defined and firm. It was all too easy to feel
the muscles of his hips rolling beneath his fingertips.

“Kept trying to focus on what I was doing,” Dean said, voice low and warm, “but I just
kept thinking about you, laid out, exposed, on the couch.”

“And you just couldn’t help yourself,” Mikael replied, aroused more than amused by
the idea.

Dean’s answer was to lean forward and undo Mikael’s jeans. Pulling his hands back from
Mikael’s body, he gave the jeans a sharp jerk to free them from Mikael’s hips. Mikael
made a soft noise as he felt Dean’s hand wrap around him, pulling him free from his jeans
as the other fought with the material. Mikael lifted his hips, doing what he could to help
as Dean shoved his jeans down far enough to give him ready access.

His attempt to reach up for Dean once more was met with resistance. Dean grabbed his
wrists and shoved them down against the couch. His brow rose, curiosity and arousal
spiking through him in equal measures. Dean had never been afraid to go after what he
wanted when it came to Mikael, but he’d never been so forceful either.

Dean’s only response to Mikael’s expression was to smirk and lean back, grabbing hold
of Mikael once more. The werewolf knew full well if he tried to reach up again, or tried
to sit up, Dean would only repeat what he’d done before. Instead all he could do was
moan, pushing his hips as best he could up into the man’s grip.

The other man was taking his time, tracing his fingers back and forth over the whole of
Mikael’s cock. Unable to move without being corrected, he was more aware of that light,
teasing touch. Dean’s weight on him seemed more apparent, the man’s ass less than a
finger’s width away and hidden only by the barest of material. This was apparently a new
game that he hadn’t been prepared for, and as much as it was already driving him crazy,
he liked it too.

“Evil,” he hissed. Dean’s fingers curled around the head of his cock and slid down
slowly. Dean only chuckled, dark eyes going even darker as he bent his head. The man’s
eyes slid up and down the length of Mikael’s body. No part of Mikael’s long, muscled
stomach was missed by that gaze, each inch of skin noted and enjoyed.

Mikael knew how much Dean loved his stomach, his whole torso really. Absurdly he
remembered how he’d once wondered aloud if he should trim up the hair he had on both
stomach and chest. It hadn’t really been a concern, he’d had more than enough years to
get used to and learn to appreciate everything about his body. But if Dean wanted a
trimmed or even hairless partner, Mikael would have done it in a heartbeat. The
genuinely horrified expression on Dean’s face when Mikael had said this aloud had been
answer enough. The fact that it had prompted the man to initiate another round of sex and
cuddle against his furry, trim stomach afterwards, was just a final exclamation point on
that objection.

Now Dean ran his hand slowly over Mikael’s stomach, as slowly and meticulously as his
movements on Mikael’s cock. Those fingers traced and trailed over him, finally slipping
down to the cushions beside Mikael. For a moment, the werewolf was confused as Dean’s
hand shoved down to the back of the couch. When it emerged with a clear bottle with
equally clear fluid in it, he understood.

This time, he did chuckle, “You stored an extra in the couch?”

Dean snorted, “As much as we’ve done on this couch, it’s a good idea and you know it.
Not like it’s the first place I’ve stored a bottle.”

That was true. Dean really had stocked the house with small bottles all over the place.
The first time the man had pulled a bottle of lube out of nowhere, Mikael had thought it
was funny. The next time, when he was desperate to have Dean on the front porch with
the moon high in the sky, he had been thankful. Now he had come to expect it, but still,
having one in the couch was more than a little amusing to him.

The amusement died at the feel of the cool liquid on his cock. A small noise escaped him,
making him push even harder up into the now slick hold on him. Dean was just as hard as
he was, but it was obvious that he was more in control of himself than Mikael was at the
moment. Only the look in Dean’s eyes kept Mikael in check.

“Dean,” he breathed, realizing that he was in the man’s power completely. True, he could
take control at any point. He was also quite aware that Dean would more likely than not
go with whatever Mikael insisted on. Yet he knew full well that Dean wanted to do this,
and Mikael wasn’t about to deny the man. He had denied him enough over the past
handful of months, why start it all over again with something like this?

“Damn right,” Dean murmured, hand sliding back and forth over the length of Mikael’s
cock. Mikael hadn’t even noticed Dean moving above him, let alone what he was doing,
until he felt the heat against the head of his cock, then the shaft. He moaned as he felt
himself slide along the crack of Dean’s ass, another tease added upon the others.

Dean shifted again, another slippery slide, and there was a moment where he was almost
sure that Dean wasn’t going to do more than tease him. At this point, he was sure that
Dean’s entire point was to drive him insane. Until he felt the man lean back and the head
of his cock slide in.

Both men made a soft noise at the entry, but Dean wasn’t content to leave it at that.
Dean’s face tightened slightly as he continued to slide back. Even given how frequently
they had sex, Mikael still had to be slow and careful when entering Dean or risk
making it uncomfortable for his partner. Mikael called that pain. Dean called it pleasure
that Mikael just didn’t appreciate. Something about the thrill of a quick entry seemed to
make whatever pain Dean felt turn to something else. Then again, this was the same man
who enjoyed the ache that came the day after a particularly rough session.

This was definitely a fast entry. Mikael slid into Dean so quickly that his head spun. It
was different, having Dean be the one in control. All but pinned as he was, Mikael felt as
if he were able to feel every inch of himself entering Dean. When his hips pressed against
Dean, the whole of him inside the man, he couldn’t stop his back from arching, as if he
trying to get even deeper.

“God,” he gasped, loving the feel of being totally buried in his lover.

Dean smirked, even as his eyes betrayed his need. “Yeah, but you can just call me Dean.”
Mikael could only stare at him for a moment. Dean was certainly in a mood. What
exactly had the man been thinking about out there? It wasn’t unusual for Dean to be
playful and even a little cocky when he was in the mood. But this was the first time that
he’d seen the man this…dominating. At least, when it came to their sex life.

Dean’s cocky pause only lasted long enough for Mikael to wonder for a moment, then the
man began moving once more. Leaning forward, he placed his hands onto Mikael’s arms
for leverage—a move, Mikael noted, which also served to hold ’his arms down. But Dean
was moving again, and it was impossible to think of anything other than the heat wrapped
around his cock, sliding back and forth with growing intensity and need.

The other man was wasting no time, rocking his hips back and forth, until he was nearly
driving Mikael up into himself. Mikael could only groan Dean’s name, squirming as the
muscles squeezed around him. He was half crazy from being unable to do anything but
lay there, and Dean seemed to know it, enjoying it as much as he was enjoying Mikael’s
cock inside him.

Mikael, feeling the pressure building in him already, dug his fingers into the couch
cushion. Dean’s body was taut above his, every muscle seeming to work as he rode
Mikael. Even the cocky look on his face was fading as his own pleasure took over.
Mikael really wished that Dean had thought to remove his shirt before he’d started all of
this. The few times Dean had ridden him, Mikael had loved to watch the man’s body
move and twist as he fucked himself on Mikael’s cock.

Even with the shirt on, Mikael could see the man’s body tightening up, muscles tense and
bracing. His movements were beginning to stutter, slipping from their rhythm, and
Mikael knew the man was close. God, Dean didn’t get off just from being fucked every
time, but Mikael never grew tired of seeing it when it did happen. This would be the first
time it had happened with minimal effort on his part, too, which was erotic in its own
right.

“Mikael,” Dean murmured, his voice low and strangled-sounding as he pushed himself
down with more force than before. Mikael grunted, managing to get his hands on Dean’s
hips as the man’s back arched, his balance lost. Dean’s cock jumped and the muscles
surrounding Mikael’s cock tightened as Dean’s orgasm hit him. Warmth blossomed on
his chest as Dean’s cock spurted in the space between them, his head tilted back as he
moaned.

Mikael was on the edge himself, hardly able to stand the near pain of being so close, but
enthralled by the sight of Dean above him all the same. Dean’s body sagged, his muscles
going limp as he began to slide forward before Mikael was done. The movement shifted
the tight grip he had on Mikael’s cock, sending another jolt of pleasure through him.

It was all Mikael needed, his body coiling up and releasing in that moment. With a
strangled grunt, he gripped Dean harder, shoving the man down and burying himself once
more. Dean tensed and let out a low noise that Mikael felt in his core even as he unloaded
into the man above him. Their hips rocked together, Dean riding the last vestiges of his
orgasm, while Mikael hung onto Dean for the beginning of his through the end.

Then his head cleared, and he eased Dean down so that the man could comfortably slump
beside him. Caught up in the need to wrap around one another, neither of them noticed
when Mikael slipped out of Dean’s body. Only a moment’s thought had Mikael pulling
Dean off of him and cleaning the both of them up before their bodies lay against each
other completely.

Mikael gave a low hum of pleasure as Dean curled up as tightly as he could against his
chest. This was the moment that Mikael lived for more than any other. Being inside Dean
was beyond perfect, but it couldn’t hold a torch to this—to the feel of this man, so sturdy
and steady, melting against him and taking whatever comfort he could from Mikael.
Mikael had run on all fours through a moonlit forest and taken down prey. He’d faced
down enemies and even his father in a way he’d never thought he would. Yet, none of
that compared to the strength he felt when Dean fell against him and completely let go.

“Mm, needed that,” Dean murmured against his chest, breathing deeply.

“What were you thinking so hard about out there?” Mikael asked. Because Dean lived so
much in his own head, it could have been just about anything. The man could chat so
freely about his ideas and emotions most of the time, and then suddenly lock down about
something and spend forever thinking about it. Mikael had yet to really work out what
determined the different reactions and usually had to ride out whatever reaction Dean had
and see where it ended up.

Dean only shook his head. “Just…everything. Got to be a little too much, and work
wasn’t really distracting me enough.”

“Tell me about it?”

Dean’s head gave another shake. “Nothing to worry about. Just…everything. It hits me
every once in a while, is all, and it’s always all at once. My brain isn’t nice enough to
just…do it in pieces. No, my brain isn’t that nice.”

Mikael worried his bottom lip. “Do you -”

Dean bumped the man with his hip, giving a sleepy smile. “Mikael? Shh. It’s okay,
alright? I didn’t want to think about it, and I don’t need to think about it now. That was
the whole point.”

Mikael nodded, familiar with the line of reasoning. “I’m glad my dick could be of
service.”

Dean snorted. “Me, too.”

He could already tell from the relaxation in Dean’s body that he wasn’t going to be awake
for much longer. As much as Mikael loved those moments where they lay curled around
each other and talked softly, he let Dean relax. Focusing on the man’s breathing, he felt
the very moment when Dean slipped into sleep, the steady rise and fall of his chest
against Mikael’s body, the gentle easing of his muscles.

When they were just them, with no one and nothing intruding, it was so easy. He both
loved and hated those moments, because he knew that every time the outside world got in
their way, Mikael always backed away, retreating to safety. The hard look in Mrs.
Williams’s face floated up into his mind, and he inwardly cringed. She had the right of it,
even though he had been unwilling to admit as much to her.

She had told him to do right by Dean, to commit either to staying or to leaving. It was the
reality he had fought with since the first time he had come crawling back to Dean. Yet it
was even more obvious as he lay in the Dean’s living room, the man himself peacefully
sleeping beside him. Dean might have more strength than Mikael believed himself
capable of, but he relied upon Mikael in ways that the werewolf couldn’t even begin to
understand. Yet each time they were tested he had failed Dean. And each time he had
seen the pain in Dean’s honest eyes, stark evidence of that failure.

Each time he had seen those pained eyes, he had thought it would better if Dean was free
of him, free of the mess that was his life. At times, he thought Dean should move onto
something else, something normal. But he couldn’t stand the thought of that, and he
couldn’t blame Dean’s determination for keeping them together either. Even when he ran,
he couldn’t let go of what he and Dean shared, and it drew him in every time.

“Yet I still run,” he said softly to the quiet air. Dean murmured something unintelligible,
shifting slightly against him before relaxing once more. Mikael waited silently, waiting to
see if Dean was going to wake up, before allowing himself to return to his thoughts.

If he couldn’t commit to staying away, and history had proved over and over that he
always broke under Dean’s determination that they be together, where did that leave him?
Where did it leave them? The thought of leaving Dean twisted his stomach in knots,
sickening him. Yet he was terrified that he would keep repeating the same behaviors, and
that eventually even someone as stubborn as Dean would give up. That last-minute stand
against his father wouldn’t be enough to save him—to save them—if Mikael kept doing
the same thing time and time again.

For the moment, he was determined to stay. But he had felt the same way before, from the
first moment that Dean had stared at him with those scared brown eyes, putting himself
out there and daring to bridge the gap between them. The only difference now was that
Mikael knew without a doubt that he had to find a way to stop himself from fleeing
during difficult times.

His own habits and fears had driven him away in the past, making it impossible for him to
properly commit to Dean. As much as he wished he could change and make that
commitment, it wasn’t so simple. No, he couldn’t rush this when the most important thing
he’d ever had depended on it. The first step was deciding to fight his tendency to run
and hide.

Commit to committing. Simple enough…right?

“Do you actually do anything around here, or do you just let your man do everything?”
The familiar voice startled him from his thoughts, jolting him upright in his seat. It was
the end of another work day, and he had once again placed himself on the porch, a half-
finished beer in hand. Dean was off dealing with the animals, he always lingered a little
longer taking care of them. Considering how many animals Dean had, plus Jax and Nix,
Mikael wasn’t really surprised he took his time doting on them all.
He turned towards the source of the voice, spotting both Artemis and Apollo standing off
to the side of the porch. Apollo looked as impassive as ever, gazing slowly around the
property with what Mikael thought was interest. The man had always been as hard to read
as his twin was easy. Artemis stood a few steps away from the porch, hand on her hip, the
expression on her face amused. They both knew they had surprised him, and she was
obviously enjoying that fact.
“Is our peace and quiet ruined already?” Mikael asked, only half kidding.
“Don’t get that grumpy look, Mikael,” she huffed, swiping a straying strand of hair from
her eyes. “Mother has been asking after you, and we were pretty curious about how
everything was going.”
Mikael raised a brow. “And you’re only now deciding to see what we’re up
to?” “We’ve been”—she hesitated, glancing toward the barn—“busy.”
That brought a frown to his face. “Desmond’s pack?”
She grimaced. “I’ll tell you about it later, okay? Right now, I just want to see my cousin
and his mate being domestic and happy.”
As if to add to the conversation, Jax came bounding up from somewhere out in the fields
behind the house. Mikael had once asked Dean how he had trained a city dog to not stay
within the property boundaries, but also to stay out of the growing fields. Dean had only
given him a confused look, saying that he hadn’t, and that Jax was just that smart. This
was also the same man who denied training the cat to stay inside and to only knock over
objects that wouldn’t break even from high places. Either Dean was secretly training
these animals, or he was some sort of animal whisperer. Mikael wasn’t sure which.
Artemis eyed the dog, raising her brow in obvious surprise as he ran right past her,
heading straight for Apollo. To Mikael’s surprise, the dog did not launch himself at the
stoic man’s face, as was his usual protocol for greeting someone he was pleased to see.
Instead, the dog sat before Apollo, gazing up at him. The dog’s butt wiggled furiously
against the ground as he waited as patiently as he could manage.
There was a pause and then Apollo bent forward, running scarred hands over the dog’s
eager head, rubbing at his neck. The dog didn’t have a collar, as Dean didn’t want to risk
Jax getting snagged on something. Yet the dog lived for neck rubs and scratches almost
as much as he lived for belly rubs. Apollo obliged that love when Jax finally gave in and
rolled onto his back, legs kicking in joy.
“Huh,” Artemis finally grunted in response. “’Ain’t that something?”
“They say that dogs are a pretty good judge of character,” Dean’s voice cut through the
moment. All three werewolves had missed Dean’s approach. He could tell that this fact
surprised the twins, but Mikael was growing used to it. He was pretty sure that Dean had
been practicing sneaking around quietly. That he had apparently managed to sneak up on
two scouts was pretty impressive, even if they were at ease.
“Either that, or your dog just goes for the one least likely to pet him,” Artemis huffed, and
Mikael smiled, knowing the woman was trying to hide the fact that she was actually
insulted.
Dean’ watched Jax and Apollo as the werewolf rubbed the ecstatic dog’s stomach. “I think
you’re thinking of cats.”
Mikael scoffed. “Your cat doesn’t want anything to do with me. She just…stares at me.”
“Well,” Dean replied, looking at him with a bit of mischief in his gaze, “I do the same
thing, sometimes. Maybe she’s just got good taste.”
Artemis groaned. “I take it back. I really don’t want to see you guys being domestic. It’s
enough to turn my stomach.”
Apollo muttered something that Mikael missed but, apparently, Artemis didn’t.
The woman turned on her twin, frowning at him as color flushed her cheeks. “I am not
jealous.”
Dean at least made an attempt to look unamused, but Mikael just grinned widely at her.
She glared at both of them, obviously not buying Dean’s feigned innocence. She crossed
her arms over her chest, an obvious sign of her annoyance. Her body language was about
as obvious as Dean’s facial expressions.
“And people wonder why I tell them that it’s a good thing he doesn’t talk much,” she
grumbled, still glaring at the lot of them. Dean flashed an amused look at Mikael as he
climbed the stairs. Mikael shot him a wink when Dean momentarily blocked Artemis’s
view of him, earning himself a grin from the farmer.
“Come on in, guys,” Dean said as he opened the front door. “Been a little while since we
had visitors. I’ll make us up something.”
“Make Mikael cook something,” Artemis told him, following with a smirk on her face.
“’Doesn’t look like he’s been doing more than taking up space on the porch and drinking
your beer.”
Before Mikael could protest, Dean laughed. “He bought that beer, and if he wants to sit
on our porch, looking good all day long, that’s good enough for me.”
The groan from Artemis alone would have been worth it. The woman needed to be
tormented now and again for everyone’s sake. But what had him grinning like an idiot
was
that Dean referred to the porch as “our.”’ Mikael had always been careful to refer to the
place as Dean’s, and never tried to lay claim to anything except for Dean himself. That
Dean so casually thought of the place as shared had him feeling giddy and silly all at
once.
That was until he realized he wasn’t alone outside. Both Jax and Apollo were still on the
grass next to the porch. It was just his luck that the other man was watching him, too. The
small smirk on his face indicated that he had a pretty good idea about the thoughts in
Mikael’s head. Mikael scowled at him, silently agreeing with Artemis that sometimes, it
really was better when he was both quiet and still-faced. But the scowl only earned
Mikael a wider smirk.
Grunting his annoyance, Mikael pushed himself from the chair and went into the house
with Apollo and Jax following. Artemis could be heard in the kitchen, Dean’s amused
voice mingling with hers. Glad that Apollo was behind him and couldn’t see the smile on
his face at Dean’s tone, he padded into the kitchen.
Artemis had certainly wasted no time in getting comfortable, having thrown herself into a
chair out of the way. Dean was already working at the counter, arranging the food and
spices for burgers. Apollo stayed in the doorway even as Mikael took the nearest seat, and
Jax trotted inside the room to flop in the middle of the kitchen.
Dean turned, eyeing the dog. “Jax. Out with you! You’re worse than Mikael about getting
in my way in the kitchen.”
The dog and Mikael both huffed. “I do not get in the way!”
“Really? Then tell me how the spaghetti ended up burnt last week.”
Mikael sniffed indignantly. “You can’t blame me for that.”
Artemis frowned. “How do you burn spaghetti?”
“It was the meat,” Dean explained, busying himself with the food.
“My question stands.”
“Because someone”—the tone pointed to Mikael even as Dean was prepping the meat
—“doesn’t know how to keep their hands to themselves.”
That only made her snicker, over Mikael’s groan. “Ah, I see now. The things I get to
learn about my cousin when I’m around you, Dean. I can’t tell if it’s a good thing or a bad
thing.”
“Bad for me, good for you,” Mikael said with a sigh.
“I call him a horn dog just to annoy him,” Dean supplied so helpfully.
“Because I’m not a dog,” Mikael growled, glaring daggers at the back of the man’s head.
“Four paws, a tail, wet nose, barks and likes belly rubs…” Dean counted off as he laid out
the veggies. “If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck…”
“Belly rubs?” The incredulous question came from Apollo this time, much to Mikael’s
dismay, though the quiet man probably said it only because his twin, almost doubled over
in her chair, was currently laughing too much to comment.
“He does not rub my belly,” Mikael protested, ignoring Dean’s soft
snort. “Just,” Artemis managed to gasp out in sharp bursts, “other
things.”
Mikael was never going to live that down, and he knew full well who was to blame for
that—the innocent-looking human who was going to limp tomorrow for this. Though in
all fairness, that was probably Dean’s goal.
“I will not be ashamed of getting laid,” Mikael griped, and it was his turn to cross his
arms over his chest. It wasn’t going to help him. If anything, it would just provoke them
further.
“Like a pup coming into his own,” Artemis breathed between gusts of laughter. “All he
needs to do is start humping your leg.”
Dean winced, which didn’t help Artemis’ state, though the man looked apologetic for a
moment. “I…well. It’s not like I can stand here and claim he’s alone in that.”
Mikael looked triumphant. “See? He jumped me yesterday…literally.”
Dean glared at him. “’Don’t make me regret sticking up for you,
mister.”
Mikael held up his hand as if in surrender. “Hey, I’m not gonna be the only one who
takes the blame here. Fair’s fair!”
Artemis had managed to reduce herself to a few chuckles but still continued to struggle
for breath. Apollo’s low chuckle would have been missed if it hadn’t happened between
one of her attempts to breathe. Even Dean turned to eye the man, a small smile on the
human’s face as he took in Apollo’s far more measured amusement.
“Good stuff,” Artemis muttered, straightening in her seat, eyes twinkling, “I knew I liked
you, Dean. Anyone able to make Mikael get that scandalized look on his face is my new
favorite person.”
Dean’s eyes lingered on the quiet twin for a moment longer, then he winked at the man
and turned back to the food prep. “Not too often that I manage it. Man only seems to have
shame when other people are around.”
“And you”—Mikael jammed a finger in the man’s direction—“just like to show off when
there are other people around. At least when you know you can get away with it.”
Dean’s only response was to hum a happy little tune as he went back to slicing up the
vegetables. If Mikael was a suspicious man, he might think that Dean was getting a little
revenge for everything that had happened when they had last been around the pack. He
couldn’t blame Dean for that— at least that version of revenge wasn’t really malicious.
Or perhaps Dean just enjoyed showing off their relationship a little, in front of people
comfortable with it.
Probably both.
Mikael was quite thankful that the conversation moved off his sex life as they finished
preparing dinner. Mostly, Dean shared some stories of living on the farm, his eyes
lighting up when he described the new sheep. The only one who caught the fond look on
Mikael’s face as Dean explained the various personalities of the animals was Apollo.
Once again, he scowled at Apollo before the man dared to respond to him, even with an
expression.
As the sun slipped beneath the horizon and the moon began to make its ascent, they found
themselves back on the porch. Everyone save Apollo found a piece of furniture to sprawl
into, beer in hand. The quiet man instead chose to seat himself on the stairs. Mikael noted
with amusement that the position put him at the perfect height for Jax to flop next to him
for constant attention.
Dean shifted, finally rounding to business. “So, who’s
Desmond?” Artemis cleared her throat. “How long were you
listening?”
Dean shrugged, giving her a little smirk. “Long enough. So?”
She eyed him suspiciously, and Mikael was pretty sure that she was wondering just how
much of an eye she would have to keep on him in the future. Even Mikael was a little
surprised that Dean had been close enough to overhear them earlier. None of them had
even known he was close until he’d spoken. Ever since they had come back from The
Grove, there had been something different about Dean, and it only got stronger as time
went on. One of the most noticeable changes was how easily the other man was learning
to move with real stealth.
“Well, he was the leader of the nearby mountain pack,” Artemis finally answered after a
moment.
That brought Mikael back to attention.
“Was?” “Dead.”
Mikael frowned. “So, Cael is leading them now? How the hell are they managing to be so
organized if they just changed leaders? There’s always a bit of chaos, especially if it was
sudden…It was, wasn’t it?”
Artemis nodded, looking grim. “And it’s not Cael. Cael’s dead, too. Both of them.”
That only deepened Mikael’s frown. “But if…Damian.”
“The one and only,” she grunted, a sour expression on her face.
“Err.” Dean raised his hand. “Okay, so who’s Cael and Damian?”
“Desmond’s sons,” she answered, leaning back and nodding her head toward Mikael.
Mikael explained, fingertips drumming on the beer bottle, “Cael is—was—Desmond’s
oldest and the one who should have been next in charge, especially if Desmond died
without warning. Problem is, Cael died, too, meaning the next in line was Damian…
Were their deaths an accident?”
Artemis gave an ugly snort. “Apparently, some hunters they missed just happened upon
their location and decided to bag them some wolves. At least, that’s the story that’s being
given to us.”
“Of course, it is,” he sighed, all but flopping back into his seat. “Anyone buying it?”
“Other packs might. Dunno, but Father isn’t.” She raised a brow. “’We’ve all met the
little shit. This has his handwriting all over it.”
Mikael nodded. “Yeah, it does. And he would be the one to keep the pack together and
then start building up for war.”
Dean raised his hand, and Artemis smiled, clarifying, “Damian is the second son, but he’s
never wanted to be anything but the big bad wolf on top. He’s a top-notch fighter,
provides for the pack with different goods, and keeps a good relationship with the nearby
humans. The whole nine yards.”
“But…” Dean drew out with emphasis.
“But,” she continued, “He’s also always been a shit. He’s got a horrible temper, even for
a werewolf, and he’s a plotter. Back when our packs had a better relationship, I had the
honor of keeping him company while the adults did their things. The boy could find
twenty different ways to get everyone into trouble, and then manage to twist it around so
he alone came out looking good.”
“Didn’t do him much good,” Mikael huffed, “because Desmond never chose him as his
heir. And he could have many, many times.”
“Probably saw what his son was.” She gave another light shrug. “If I had a son like
Damian, I would have saved everyone the trouble and drowned him in the river when no
one was looking.”
“He might not have been blind,” Dean began slowly, looking at his feet, “but he probably
loved him all the same.”
Artemis snorted. “Yeah, well if we’re right, he would have been doing himself a favor if
he had put the mutt down. Because now Damian is the leader of one of the toughest packs
for miles, and he’s picking up more and more strays. They’re playing nice at the moment,
but it’s not hard to see the fangs behind the smile, Mikael.”
“He’s not actually preparing for war, is he?” Mikael asked, feeling tension move further
through his body, tightening his muscles.
“Now hold on,” Dean interrupted, making a cutting motion through the air. “How exactly
does any of this translate to war?”
The female twin shrugged, “It’s Damian. He’s already been showing signs of wanting
more than he already has, hell, he’s always been like that. But with him talking to other
packs, probably bullying them, it’s probably going to be war. We don’t war with other
packs very often, but the way he’s moving around, it’s hard not to think that.”
Mikael glanced between the two before finally settling on Artemis, “Started barking up
everyone’s tree huh?’
“Already started asking for ‘favors’ from Father,” she told him, her look pointed. “Him
and other pack leaders.”
“Let me guess,” Mikael grunted. “Favors for who? Someone Father should consider a
friend?”
“Something like that.”
“Neat trick,” he sighed. “That way, he can make it clear who his ‘friends’ are and who his
enemies are. And he can coerce that packs that helped him once to help him again against
the packs that stand against him. The tactic maintains the peace, gives him allies for the
future, and makes himself look good in the meantime. Then when he’s feeling confident,
he can throw everyone at each other’s throats. He’s always scrambling for something
else, greedy bastard.”
“Easy clean up, too,” Dean said quietly, drawing attention from the other three. “What?
It’s true. Think about it. If he gets enough packs to side with him at the start of this war
you say he’s try to start, it means he can have his war without harming his own pack too
much. All he has to do is hold back, let the other packs duke it out, then throw his own in
at the end to make him look good. Then when it’s all done, he’ll come down on everyone
with his full strength and take everything.”
Artemis made an ugly face. “Sounds like something the little sneak would do. That a
human trick he picked up?”
Dean shrugged. “I think we just call that war.”
“Not for werewolves.”
Mikael frowned at the haughtiness in Artemis’ voice.
“Doesn’t sound like he plays by werewolf rules very well,” Dean said, shrugging and
looking Artemis straight on. “If you guys are right, he just killed his dad and brother to
get to be the big man. That doesn’t exactly tell me that he’s willing to fight fair.”
Mikael nodded. “’He’s right. Tell me Father isn’t going through the normal responses?
Well, not just through the normal responses?”
Artemis frowned at Dean as she spoke, as if this were his fault suddenly. “You know he
is. We’ve got a pretty big pack, and we’re old, with old land that has been with us
forever. We still have plenty of weight to throw around.”
“Yeah, but Desmond, and now Damian, have a Shaman,” Mikael pointed out. “And
they’re not exactly a young pack, either.”
“Shaman,” Dean said, his voice distant.
“Spirit dudes.” Artemis shrugged dismissively. “Talk to the spirits, the trees, or whatever.
Probably hug trees, too. Dunno, but it’s not that big of a deal, Mikael.”
“They connect the pack to the earth, Artemis,” Mikael said, jamming his finger against
the armrest. “That’s a pretty big deal when you’re trying to deal with a hostile pack that
actually has one. Sure, we have the forest, but we haven’t had anyone able to actually talk
to the damn thing in a while. And now Damian has one, along with everything else?”
“It’s the best option we have right now, Mikael,” she sighed. “And we need you
back. Soon.”
Mikael blinked slowly. “Father?”
“More or less.” She gave a helpless gesture with her hands. “He needs to leave The Grove
to do his work, at least he has to if he doesn’t want to look like a coward. But he won’t
leave because he’s Alpha. If you’re there, as his heir, then he can leave. He just hasn’t
asked because he’s—”
“Too stubborn,” Dean and Mikael answered at the same time and with nearly identical
exasperated inflection.
Artemis blinked, first at one, then the other. “Okay, so that was…creepy. Don’t do that
again?”
Dean smiled at Mikael, not hearing Artemis. “’Vacation’s over, babe.”
“I shouldn’t have bought the sheep so soon,” Dean said in the quiet of the truck cabin.

“You love those sheep,” Mikael said.

“Exactly! And they love me, and I went and left them behind.” The smaller man huffed,
crossing his arms over his chest to slump against the door. “Left them with Mr.
Williams, even!”

“I’m pretty sure Mr. Williams has taken care of animals before, Dean.” Mikael smiled,
knowing the other man wasn’t quite done yet. “And I’m pretty sure he’s dealt with sheep
before.”

“Yeah, but they’re my sheep,” the protest continued. “I mean, did you see the way he
looked at me when I told him their names?”

“Fe, Fi, Fo, and Fum are a little odd to a man like Mr. Williams.” It was hard not to laugh
at the thought. He had actually seen the look the older man had given Dean when he’d
told him the names. Then again, this was the same young man who had named a cat Nix,
a dog Jax, and then proceeded to name his cows Spot and Cream. Mikael was still trying
to figure out why Dean had named the chickens after elements from the periodic table,
though he would admit that it made it easier to keep records in the farm’s ledger.

“It’s because they always acted like I was about to eat them! And now they’re attached,
and I leave them with a stranger.”

“Hey.” Mikael reached across, resting a hand on the man’s knee. “Look. If Nix, weird cat
that she is, can tolerate Mr. Williams, I’m sure the sheep will be just fine. They’ll take to
him with time. It’s Mrs. Williams I’d worry about.”

Dean squinted across the length of the truck’s cabin. “Why?”

“Because that woman scares the fur off of me,” Mikael said, flushing at the memory.

Dean wasn’t content with that answer, and Mikael could hear the gears turning in the
man’s head. If he wasn’t given something else to distract him, the man was bound to
come up with something. You couldn’t deter Dean from a course he took, though you
might be able to delay it for a little while. In this case, it meant derailing him somehow.

With the path leading into The Grove rough from the rains they had been having, it was
slow driving, which allowed him to take his attention away from the road long enough to
pull the man across the seat toward him. Dean flailed, still not used to how strong Mikael
could be, protesting loudly as he slid across the leather interior. Personally, Mikael felt
the man had no one to blame but himself. He should have been wearing his seatbelt, after
all.

Dean glared up at him suspiciously. “What are you up to, mister?”

Mikael leered down at him. “Maybe I just like you right up against me?”

Dean glanced at the road, then down at Mikael’s lap, shaking his head. “If you wanted
road head, you should have chosen a less bumpy time to do it.”

Actually, the thought hadn’t really occurred to him until Dean said something. “Huh,
that’s an idea for the future. Didn’t know you were up for it, or I would have gone
for it miles back.”

Dean snorted. “I wasn’t a virgin our first time together, Mikael. I did have some fun
before that, you know.”

Mikael eyed the other man. “Like what?”

“Like road head isn’t the wildest thing I’ve ever done.” Dean thought about that for a
moment. “Then again, sleeping with a werewolf does count as pretty adventurous.”

“Dean, I’m telling you, we don’t change in the middle of sex,” Mikael groused. “I’m not
going to go full wolf and turn feral on you. We only change when we want to, or when
emotions get really high.”

“Our sex life doesn’t get your emotions really high, huh?”

Mikael would have suspected a trap, if it weren’t for the impish look in the man’s eyes.
“Well, unless you start pissing me off in the middle of sex, I think we’re going to
be okay.”

“Uh huh.” Dean eyed Mikael again. “I see thoughts. What are these thoughts I’m seeing
in your head right now?”

“The kind that involve questions about what sorts of things you’ve done in the past that
you can show me. Maybe I’d like to see a few more of your tricks.”

Dean chuckled, dark eyes watching him in interest. “Well, I’m sure something like that
can be arranged.”

Mikael chuckled, squeezing the man’s leg. “Good. But I’m going to need you to get back
to other side of the truck. We’re about coming up to The Grove.”

Understanding, then hurt, flashed across the other man’s face. Dean pushed himself back
into his seat. For a moment, Mikael wondered why he looked hurt. Had he actually
wanted to do something with the road the way it was? If that were the case, Mikael would
have happily stopped by the side of the road and had some fun. He knew Dean well
enough to guess that the man had brought a bottle or three with him for this little trip.

When he saw the barely-concealed miserable expression on the man’s face, he finally
understood. “Thanks, babe,” he said, trying to soothe Dean and reassure him without
being obvious. “You were practically in my lap. You stayed there any longer, and I would
have ended up greeting the welcoming party with a hard-on.”

A flush of embarrassment came across Dean’s face, but he shoved it aside with a smirk,
though a pleased one. Mikael hadn’t been thinking when he’d told Dean to move back to
his seat. As if he were ashamed to be seen close to him. After everything that had
happened the last time they were at The Grove, like hell Mikael was going to hide. It was
already out in the open, anyway, and he really had Dean to thank for that. Even if he
hadn’t had much to do with it, save for a last-minute burst of courage, he wasn’t going to
waste the man’s efforts.

Hell, no. He had a man he was going to show off, even if it killed him.

When they pulled up to The Grove, Mikael wasn’t at all surprised to see a small
collection of people waiting for them, apparently drawn by the sound of the approaching
truck. He had no doubt that there were some people who simply wanted to greet him. But
he also knew there were more than a few who wanted to get a good second look at the
human who had caused so much trouble. There were many things you could say about
werewolves— and one of the lesser known things was how nosy they could be.

When Mikael and Dean stepped out of the truck, a tall, familiar figure pushed through the
crowd toward them. The sight of Katarina instantly made Mikael feel more relaxed and at
home. They had always been close, even as children. She was tougher than him by far,
but she was also a lot more impulsive, which had gotten her into trouble more than once
before. Thankfully, that was where her toughness came into play, and helped her back out
of the hole her actions had dug.

She wrapped her arms around Dean in an enthusiastic hug that lifted him off the ground
with a startled yelp. Mikael watched in amazement as his sister growled in pleasure,
crushing Dean, who seemed to give in and hug her back, if only to have something to
hold onto. His sister was, while not what you would call reserved, not the type for blatant
displays of touch or affection. Save for their mother and for Mikael himself, Katarina
gave the barest of touches, or—if need be—a hook across the jaw.

She set the human down with a wide grin, turned in time to see Mikael’s
expression. “What?”

He gestured between the two of them with a faint huff. “Wh-what was that?”

“What?” She repeated, flinging her arm over Dean’s shoulders and dragging him into a
side hug. “We bonded.”

Mikael stared in question at Dean, who seemed both pleased and bemused, shrugging.
“We bonded,” Dean said.
“Right,” Mikael said. “Do I get a hug, or has all your love gone on my mate?”

She frowned then, but it was less to do with Mikael’s words and more with the crowd’s
reactions to his words. Again, he hadn’t thought about what he was saying. He’d been
caught off-guard by the welcome, and the words had slipped from his mouth. They
weren’t officially mates, as his father had decreed that Dean would need to earn his place.
To be the mate of an heir to the pack meant earning full membership into that pack.

Katarina turned and gave the milling group of people an annoyed wave. “Get outta here,
you pack of nosy gossips. Shoo! Who really even cares? We all know it’s going to
happen. Quit being dramatic. Just go, all of you. Yeah, you too, Daniel. I see you lurking.
Get!”

The crowd began to break apart at the bigger woman’s insistence, though admittedly it
took a bit of effort on her part, their curiosity overriding their reluctance to deal with her
when she was in a mood. The woman could laugh harder and louder than even Artemis
and did so easily. But she was also quicker to start swinging when riled up. She wouldn’t
hit the townspeople over this, but she could certainly convince them otherwise. They
finally gave up their ef/-forts and left the trio in peace.

“Honestly,” she huffed, turning to Mikael and Dean after she was sure the group had
actually left. “I swear, they would be less nosy if Father was more willing to let people go
out once in a while. They jump all over any sort of gossip around here like they’re
starving for it.”

Mikael knew that all too well. It had been like that his whole life, really. That little
comment about Dean being his mate would be enough to get the gossip stirred up all over
again. The comment made it seem as if Dean was already officially his mate. It would
smack of even more rebellion than he’d already shown. The crowd would spend forever
trying to figure out amongst themselves which it was: a simple slip of the tongue, or
Mikael being even more rebellious than before.

“You know,” Dean began, getting that look on his face that told Mikael a probing
question was coming, “that gets me to thinking.”

“I haven’t known you that long, and even I know that’s a dangerous way for you to start a
conversation,” Katarina said.
“Like, I understand that the outside world wouldn’t be big on werewolves and all that.
And that humans sometimes realize that something isn’t totally human about you guys, at
times. Yet, the risk of being discovered and getting into trouble seems really small.
Mikael has gotten away with it for years and hasn’t had any problems, so why doesn’t
your dad allow it more?”

Katarina smirked. “If you want to get in his good graces, I would start referring to him as
‘Father,’ if only for the extra points. You need them.”

Dean huffed. “I had a father, and he’s dead. I don’t need another one, so forget it.”

With a laugh, she patted his shoulder. “This is why I like having you around. You’re
about as stubborn as he is. Kinda fun to watch, actually.”

“Real fun,” he muttered, rubbing at the place where he had taken the blow to the jaw.
Then he glared. “’You’re avoiding the question.”

“That I am,” she replied happily, “because it’s a long story.”

“And you don’t want to get into it right now,” Dean finished with a resigned, if frustrated,
groan. Mikael didn’t envy him on that one. It had to be a pain to come into the middle of
all of this and only get so much of the story at a time. Mikael had no doubt he would be
hearing about this again. The man was, if anything, persistent.

“Where’s Lucille?” Mikael asked, glancing around to emphasize his question.

“About somewhere.” Katarina shrugged. “She said something about making sure your
house was still livable. Couldn’t decide if that was a subtle comment about how long
you’ve been gone lately or if she was genuinely worried that your place might not be
livable.”

Mikael could only smile as he watched the familiar mix of emotions in her face at the
mention of their sister. Katarina was not a woman of books, but she was quite intelligent.
She did her part to learn, even if she was far more content to act. Their youngest sister
was as confusing as they came, which always seemed to stymie her more than any other
puzzle. That Lucille always seemed to know what was going on with them only served to
frustrate his middle sibling. He knew it was a secret wish of hers to one day one up the
other woman, and he wished her luck.

“Well,” he began, pulling her out of her thoughts for the moment, “I’m not going to be
the one to tell you what’s going on in her head. Knowing our luck, it was a bit of both, or
something totally different.”

Dean shrugged. “Bet we’ll find out when we get there.”

“You say that, but I really don’t think so. She’s always been like that. Even as a pup, she
was a mystery. Even Father can’t pry a thing from her if she doesn’t want to give it up.
Drives him crazy, but what can he do? The woman will tell you what she thinks in her
own time, in her own way.” Mikael gave a helpless little shrug.

“Well, we can either stand around talking about it, or go find out.” Katarina snatched up
Mikael’s forgotten bag and marched off. Dean looked at his own bag beside him, his eyes
following after Katarina with an amused expression on his face. Before the man could
stoop to pick it up, Mikael was there, grabbing the bag.

Rather than the protest he had expected, Dean only smiled at him and followed Katarina.
For a moment, Mikael was surprised that the fiercely-independent man allowed even that
small degree of help when he clearly didn’t need it. Yet the man had only smiled that
secret, soft smile of his, eyes warm. It was such a simple show of trust, trust that Mikael’s
gesture wasn’t a comment about his own capabilities.

It was these types of little moments like that really drove home the wonderful reality of
what he had with Dean. Although the large moments were defining, it was the little ones,
he’d found, that really solidified and strengthened the foundation they were building with
each other. It was the little shows of trust and faith on Dean’s part, and the moments
when Mikael felt he was a real comfort and joy to the other man, that sometimes seemed
even more important than the grand, obvious moments. And that was a secret about
relationships that Mikael was just learning, and other people never seemed to mention.

Very glad that a certain quiet werewolf wasn’t around, he trotted after the pair with a
lightness in his step. Some part of him had been wary of returning with Dean, fearing
what dark emotions and memories might be stirred up once more. It was one of the
reasons he had put off coming back here, though having to face his father again after the
man had stewed about their last interaction for a while was another big one. But despite
his worry
about that, he’d been most concerned about having to face everything that had happened
here once more.

Yet when they reached the cabin that Mikael had built by himself, he saw no more hint of
those memories on Dean’s face. The man was laughing silently at Katarina, who had
managed to wrap the strap of Mikael’s bag around herself awkwardly as she tried to open
the door. Cursing it roundly, in a manner that would have left even a trucker blushing, she
opened the door with a grunt. The bag followed the door, thumping on the other side of
the doorway. Mikael was really glad he hadn’t put anything breakable into that bag.

“Oh, hey,” came her voice came from the confines of the house, “she actually did stuff.”

Dean and Mikael glanced at each other, then Dean motioned for Mikael to go in next. A
little worried at what his youngest sister could have done to his home, he took the offer
gratefully. It wasn’t much darker in the house than it had been outside. He had
purposefully constructed the home to need as little indoor lighting as possible, both
during the day and the night. The window placement allowed the maximum amount of
light to spill in at all hours.

That was one of the features that made his house unique in The Grove. The others were
situated almost haphazardly across the wide space that had once been a meadow. As the
pack had grown, they had spread out a little more into the woods, creating some places
that were a little more separated from the main area. Each had been made to the basic
requirements that one would need in a home. Larger families had more rooms, and thus
more space, and smaller ones had smaller places. Some were added onto when the family
grew, or someone shacked up with another. Mikael’s was unique in that it wasn’t quite as
simple as the others. The whole pack had helped build his house as they had done with
others, but he had been the one to add the little touches over time.

Though he would have expected dust and the like to have cropped up in the weeks that
they had been gone, he didn’t detect the slightest speck of it. Everything, from the tables,
to the lanterns, to the furniture, looked as if it had been thoroughly cleaned. Even the
handmade blankets tossed over the back of the chair and the couch appeared to have been
washed recently. Windows had been opened to air the place out, and the outside air had
breathed fresh life into the space.

“Are those flowers?” Dean asked, stepping up beside Mikael and eyeing an earthen bowl
in the middle of the hand-carved low table before the couch. “With…pine cones?”
As Dean said that, Mikael noticed that rich dirt and wood weren’t the only smells
throughout the cabin. The smells of different parts of the forest were in the home,
including whatever flowers the woman had slapped into that particular bowl. He could
see even more around the room, adding splashes of color to the place.

Dean sniffed at the bowl, eyeing it carefully. “Not too bad. Doesn’t smell like the inside
of a perfume shop in here and”—he turned around to look at the whole room, cocking a
brow
— “Lord, she really brightened the place up with a few flowers thrown around. The rest
are just regular wild flowers. They don’t have much of a smell, unlike the ones in the
bowl. You know she could decorate?”

“Who the hell knows what Lucille can actually do?” Katarina asked, though she sniffed
the air appreciatively. “Did she…bring in more wood for the fireplace?”

Sure enough, there was a new supply of wood piled neatly next to the cleaned fireplace.
Mikael couldn’t believe she’d cleaned the chimney. It hadn’t been quite that bad yet,
though it had definitely needed some attention. Before Mikael could appreciate it, he
went into the bedroom, curious.

“She, uh, had a hand in here too, babe,” he said.

The bedroom had been given the same treatment. Everything was spotlessly cleaned, and
the wooden figures he’d kept on the dresser had been shined. What had Dean’s amused
attention was the collection of small bottles on the bedside table.

“Tell me that’s not what I think it is.” Dean’s voice was strained from trying to sound
serious.

“I…” Mikael hoped not, but despite his hesitation, he still stepped forward to inspect the
contents.

Each bottle was differently shaped, probably to make it easier to differentiate between the
contents. One at a time, he picked them up, sniffing each gingerly and settling them back
in their places with care. Not that they were fragile—each one was solidly made, and
even if he dropped them to the floor, he wasn’t likely to break one.
“They’re…oils,” he said flatly. “I don’t know what all of them are, but I know some of
them. One is for muscle aches. Another one can numb whatever part of the skin it’s put
on for a little while. I think a few of the others are just…scented.”

Dean’s voice was strained further. “Flowery?”

“No,” Mikael sighed, waiting for the inevitable. “Earthy.”

He watched as the bubble of laughter rose up and almost exploded out of the other man.
Dean’s attempts at controlling his fit of hysterical laughter was equal parts appreciated
and exasperating. He got way too much amusement out of Mikael’s discomfort for the
werewolf’s liking. Yet before Dean could comment, Katarina’s wry voice cut through the
air from behind them.

“Yeah, so the numbing one? Non-toxic.”

Mikael glared at her for having come to the room. “So?”

“Meaning it’s not a bad thing if it gets inside,” she said, with the best and yet worst
innocent expression.

Mikael scowled. “I know what you’re aiming at, but no one wants that numbed Katarina.
And can’t you just…go somewhere that isn’t here, right now?”

“She doesn’t mean there,” Dean said. His face was no longer filled with laughter as he
prodded one of the bottles, intrigued. “Means it can be safely swallowed. Probably tastes
horrible, but you would probably want to avoid hitting the tongue, anyway.”

Mikael’s brain clicked into place, particularly when he saw the glint in Dean’s eyes.

Katarina, however, ruined Mikael’s sudden interest. “So… which of you needs to numb
their throat?”

“Alright! That’s it,” Mikael barked, grabbing Dean’s arm and dragging him from the
room. “That’s enough of that. Don’t need my sister checking on…on…”

“Whose is bigger?” Dean supplied in a false innocent tone.

“No! Wait, yes!” He shoved them both out into the living room and slammed his
bedroom door shut. Katarina and Dean were both laughing; he ignored them. “You’re
brats, the both of you. You two find something else to do. I’m going to see if there’s
anything in the food stock for me to have for dinner later.”

They both managed to nod around their laughter as Mikael stomped out, though he didn’t
miss the look of promise on Dean’s face as he made his escape. Well, regardless of his
embarrassment, he was comforted by the realization that he knew exactly what Dean had
in mind for one of their spare moments alone.
When Mikael returned to the cabin, it was completely empty. Apparently, in the time he
had taken to check on things, diverted often by pack mates who wanted to talk, both his
sister and mate had disappeared. He was certainly glad that they weren’t around to make
even more trouble, but he also wondered where they could have gone. His sister, at least,
could be counted on to make trouble, but Dean could be just as bad, if the mood struck
him. Particularly if he had an accomplice and partner in crime.

After chucking the collection of supplies into the cooler, he went back outside. A glance
around gave absolutely no clue where either of them had wandered off to. Even an
ambling circuit around The Grove showed no sign of them. His lost expression caught
someone’s attention, and the person immediately pointed him in the direction of the
training area.

The Grove consisted of sections of different clearings in the thick woods connected by
the paths they had created over the years. No doubt, with his newfound freedom, Dean
had wanted to see a bit more of the place. The last visit hadn’t been pleasant for either of
them, and while he knew his father was still unhappy, at least Dean wasn’t quite as
restricted as he had been then.

Why the man would go to the training area was beyond Mikael, however. Outside of the
challenge that Dean had thrown himself into over the summer, the man hadn’t shown any
interest in fighting. True, Dean had the guts to stand down an oversized wolf and then
later his father, but that wasn’t quite the same. Somehow, he thought that Katarina had
something to do with this.

Sure enough, as he broke through into the clearing that was meant for training and
sparring, he heard the woman’s laughter. The training area was much like the clearing
used for actual fighting, though something about it seemed more lighthearted and a little
less dark. There were, of course, areas for people to rest or simply watch, which the
combat area did not have. This was a place of training, but it was also a lot more
comfortable and relaxed.

Dean was sitting in the middle of one of the three rings, leaning back and breathing
heavily. Katarina was grinning down at him, hands on her hips. When she noticed
Mikael’s approach, the grin became even wider. Dean turned his head to Mikael, smiling
at the sight of him. Dean was pink in the face and sweaty.

“What have you been up to?” Mikael asked once he was within speaking distance.

“Katarina thought it was a good idea that I learn a few things,” Dean told him, watching
Mikael’s every move as he approached.

“Your boy has a long road ahead of him,” Katarina snorted. “Stubborn, though.”

“You even land a hit?” Mikael asked, offering his hand, but Dean shook his head,
obviously wanting to catch his breath.

“Tried,” Katarina answered for him. “Like, actually tried. I thought I was going to have to
go through the whole ‘I know humans like to teach men not to hit girls, but this isn’t the
same thing’ speech, but he got over that after his first half-assed attempt to fight me.”

“A kick to the gut will do that,” Dean huffed, though the look in his eyes said he wasn’t
that mad about it. “No girl I ever knew fought like that.”

“Werewolves don’t care about that sort of thing, sweetheart,” Katarina said in an overly-
sweet voice. “Law of the Wild. The enemy isn’t gonna care if you’re a man or woman,
it’ll try to kill you all the same.”

“Thanks, NatGeo,” Dean grunted, finally taking the offered hand. “I officially got my ass
kicked. You happy?”

Katarina cocked a brow. “Ehh, you can shoot a gun, right?”

Dean blinked. “I… Well, more or less. My aim isn’t bad…Why?”

“Because bullets will protect you better than those weak fighting skills you’ve got,” she
snorted, turning to Mikael and slapping his shoulder. “In the meantime, you should start
showing him some things. With everything going on, it’s a good idea that he at least
knows how to hold his own.”

“You’re not going to be able to teach me how to be a good fighter if this is all goes
downhill between the packs,” Dean grunted. “Because from the sounds of it, we’ve got
weeks before they decide if there’s going to be war or not. That’s not enough time to
teach me how to actually fight.”

“True,” she agreed, walking backward toward the trail entrance, “but you can learn
enough so you’re not totally helpless. And you’re a fast learner. Mikael can teach you our
weaknesses and habits. Honestly, he’s the best one to teach you. You’ve gotta have that
sort of skill if you want to be an alpha after all.”

Mikael saw that Dean was acknowledging the good sense in Katarina’s words. Dean
squeezed Mikael’s hand and said to him, “You and I both know that would involve a lot
of manhandling and sweat and everything.”

Mikael sighed, knowing he should have seen that coming, but Katarina only gave a small,
knowing shrug and walked away. As she disappeared, Dean made his way slowly to a
nearby patch of longer grass and eased on the ground. Mikael smiled, plopping down next
to him.

“You guys were only away from me for almost an hour,” he said. “How did you get so
beat up that fast?”

“It was pretty fast,” Dean huffed. “We were only at the house for a little while before she
got restless. She dragged me out here and somehow convinced me to spar with her to
show her what I was capable of. The next thing I know, I’m getting my ass kicked. It’s
kind of scary how quickly she did it, and how often.”

Mikael nodded in sympathy. “Yeah, she’s one of the best we have when it comes to
fighting. She’s just as good on all fours, too. There’s not many around here willing to piss
her off because of that. If she were the one to be in line for alpha, there’d be even less
people willing to challenge the heir than there already are.”

“I thought that was a male thing,” Dean asked, wincing a little as he stretched his legs out
before him.
“Nah,” Mikael said. “I mean, it usually is. But a female can be heir, too. It happens
enough, usually in packs where females have a long history of being in charge. But it
happens in other packs, too. Usually it occurs when there’s no male to be heir, or when a
female really is that much better than the male child.”

“So, yes, but no,” Dean supplied with a small laugh.

“Basically.” Mikael gave his own laugh. “Sometimes, I’m surprised that Father didn’t
choose Katarina, really. It doesn’t go against any of the old codes, she’s a way better
fighter than me, and she listens to him a lot better than I ever have. Makes me wonder if
it’s really just because I’m good at dealing with other werewolves.”

“Could be anything. It’s not like your dad is telling,” Dean snorted. “Would have been
interesting if your dad had chosen her, though. At least some things would have been
easier. It would have been neat to see her in charge one day. She reminds me of my mom
a little bit, actually.”

Ignoring the comment about the struggle they’d had getting to this point, Mikael raised a
brow. “That’s the first time you’ve brought up your mom in a while. You, uh, don’t really
talk about your parents…like, at all.”

Dean’s face was hard to read, but his body stiffened. He shrugged a little. “Some things
don’t really stop hurting. Doesn’t matter how long it’s been.”

Mikael paused, mulling that over, then finally summoning the courage to say it aloud.
“Tell me about them.”

Dean looked up at him, surprise on his face, before nodding slowly. It was obvious that it
still bothered Dean to think about them, to remember them. Yet, Mikael knew that on
some level, he wanted to talk about his parents. There was perhaps more pain in the loss
of his parents than there had been at the loss of his grandfather. No matter how much
Dean had loved and respected his grandfather, they had still been his parents.

Eventually, Dean looked up again, seeming to hold Mikael’s face in his gaze for support.
“Like I said, my mom was kinda like Katarina. She was a little wild and definitely willful.
She liked to live her life her own way, and wasn’t at all sorry about it. I’m pretty sure she
was hell on wheels for Grandpa. He always liked to say that she gave him more than a
few gray hairs, but he always looked so happy when he said it, too. He was proud of her,
called her…”

Mikael blinked at the sudden snort of laughter from Dean. “What?”

“He would call her his little she-wolf,” Dean chuckled, eyeing Mikael in amusement.

Understanding hit Mikael, and he laughed softly. “Maybe you’ve got a little wolf in you
as well then.”

“It was more than a little last night,” Dean remarked, smirking slightly.

“Quit being dirty,” Mikael laughed, swatting Dean playfully yet hard enough to make the
man waver.

“Alright, alright,” Dean chuckled as he righted himself. “’That’s what he called her.
Makes more sense since he knew about you guys. Probably did see a bit of wolf in her.
But she was fun. She was always playing with me, then talking with me about all sorts of
things when I was older. She liked to drag me around and do things. There was always
something out there for her to see and do. I think my dad appreciated it, since it let him
have a bit of peace.”

“Not the adventurous type?” Mikael asked at the pause.

Dean shrugged. “He liked going out to do stuff, but he was more…picky about it. Mom
said I got my love of books from him. He was a big reader, and he liked to talk about all
sorts of things with me. He was actually the one who got me into history a bit. Had all
these models, some ships, some tanks, some little houses from different parts of the world
in different eras. He’d drag my mom to museums and old movies, then surprise her with a
trip to go skydiving or something.”

“Skydiving?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “My mom was a bit of a daredevil. Not that my dad couldn’t keep up
when he wanted to, or that he didn’t enjoy doing those sorts of things with her. They both
knew the adventure stuff was more her thing than his, but she loved him for going with
her, anyway. Only thing he wouldn’t do was ocean diving. His brother drowned when
Dad was a kid, and he was always terrified of water. Wouldn’t even go near the water,
not as long as I knew him, anyway.”

Dean smiled fondly.

“We used to take trips all the time. All over the country. We’d go to Colorado so Mom
could ski and probably scale a mountain or two. Dad would take me to the art museums
or some science expo. We’d go to California, and my dad would walk with me to see all
the old houses, talking about their history. Mom liked to find the best hidden food places,
show me how to swim in rough surf.” He laughed. “I remember one time, this cop
showed up when she was showing me how to deal with rough water. He was adamant that
I shouldn’t be in the water, and was raising hell with my mom. Lord, she came out of that
water, this little woman in a swimsuit, and read the cop the riot act. How she didn’t get
arrested, I have no idea.”

Mikael laughed at the imagery. “So that’s where you get it from.”

Dean frowned at him. “Get what?”

“The mouth you have when you’re mad,” Mikael chuckled. “The way you describe your
parents, you sound a lot like your dad. Kinda quiet, but big on books and learning. You
like to do a lot of quiet stuff on your own. What’d he do for a living?”

“Uh…” Dean flushed. Mikael raised a brow, and he got redder. “He was a carpenter.”

The look on Mikael’s face made Dean smack him. “What? I’m sorry, but that’s kind of
funny. And it…also makes sense.”

Dean eyed him suspiciously. “’Why’s that?”

Mikael rolled his eyes. “I wonder. The carpenter with a brain and love of quiet things,
helping to raise a farmer with a brain and a love of quiet things. Doesn’t take a genius to
figure it out. Also, doesn’t take a genius to see that despite all that quiet, your mom is in
you, too. Especially when you’re all fired up and willing to take on anyone.”

“I’m not that bad,” Dean grumbled, pushing Mikael again.

“Really? You fought a big-ass wolf.”

“It was attacking Jax! Like I was going to let it kill him! Plus, that was your cousin, so it
doesn’t totally count.”

“Pretty sure he’s regretting that, too. But okay, you yelled at, insulted, and tried to
challenge my father. The alpha of a werewolf pack that are all afraid of him in some way,
except for his mate.”

“Probably because he’s an ass,” Dean huffed. “And your mom is tough as nails. I think
he’s more scared of her than anything.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda my point there, babe,” Mikael laughed softly. “You get mad about
something and you just go after it. You didn’t think twice about it, you just did it. So
many things could have gone wrong with all that, but you didn’t care, you just went in
swinging.”

Dean shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “I wouldn’t have had to if your dad wasn’t
such an ass about everything. It’s about control with him. ’That’s all there is to it. And I
wasn’t going to just stand around and let him control everything. And you know what?
Until he decides to get over himself and make me a full member of the pack, he doesn’t
really control me much either, no matter how he acts. So, if he wants to act like an ass, he
can act like an ass.”

Mikael shook his head. “Do you really think I’m going to believe that when he makes
you a full-fledged member, it’s gonna make you nicer to him?”

“Nicer?”

The irritation in his voice made Mikael laugh, and he kissed Dean on his brow. The
gesture softened the hard lines on Dean’s face, leaving only a sheepish expression behind.
It was kind of amazing to watch the man transition between moods so rapidly. The guy
could be calm one moment, nostalgic the next, then raging about his father without ever
seeming to exhaust himself. It was nice that a little gesture could calm him down though,
even as Mikael wondered at the emotional turbulence that Dean had going on under the
surface.

“Has he always been like that?” Dean finally asked, the question almost begrudging.

Mikael supposed that this question was inevitable, and would probably come up again.
He shrugged. “I… Sorta. He’s got worse as we got older, though.”

“Okay, so why is he like that? Does he just get off on it?”

It was a loaded question, one he wasn’t sure he should answer. Not where they were,
anyway. Cocking his head, he listened to the woods around them. Dean watched him for
a moment, a curious expression on his face. Mikael couldn’t hear anyone nearby, and he
supposed talking in the training grounds was better than doing it in his house, anyway.
Thick walls or not, the windows were usually open, and people were likely to wander by.
They would, of course, try to get out of earshot during a private moment. Even in a close
community like this, people were respectful of certain kinds of privacy. But Mikael didn’t
want to risk it.

“Look, a little history you should know about the pack,” he began finally, once he was
completely sure it was safe. “But this isn’t the sort of thing that you can bring up to
anyone, okay? Not anyone, especially my dad.”

Dean managed to look affronted. “Do I really have that big of a mouth?”

Mikael huffed. “’It’s not that. But I just want you to know just how important this is,
okay? Most of this, people don’t talk about to anyone. Anyone my dad’s age or older
doesn’t talk about it, and anyone younger doesn’t really know about it.”

Dean raised a brow, but nodded, nevertheless. “Okay, you have my word that I’ll keep
my mouth shut on it.”

“Okay.” Mikael took a deep breath. “Thing is, my grandfather was the alpha before my
dad, just like his was alpha before him. Our line has been leading this pack for a while,
and that’s kind of a big deal. There’s a lot of pressure and expectation for an heir,
especially if the previous alpha was a good one. Especially if the alpha you’re heir to is
also your father, and you come from a line of them. But the problem is, that can really
come back to bite you on the tail if the previous alpha wasn’t all that great, either.”

“I… take it your grandfather wasn’t all that great?”

Mikael shook his head. “No, he was pretty bad. He had been the youngest son, so he
wasn’t expected to take on any leadership. And since there wasn’t too many problems at
the time, no one thought to correct his wild behavior. Then his dad, the alpha before him,
and his brother, who was the heir at the time, were killed in an ambush. It led to one hell
of a mess, and part of that mess was that my grandfather became the alpha.”

“It was”—Mikael winced— “It was a total disaster. My grandfather couldn’t make a
proper decision if his or other people’s lives depended on it. Since they were in the
middle of a war with another pack, lives did depend on it. Now, another thing you should
know— in a time of war, no alpha can be challenged unless he’s a traitor. So, my
grandfather was able to continue making bad decisions that got our own killed or injured
while he stayed safe here in The Grove, living the same life he’d led before.”

“Guessing he was the party sort?”

“Yeah, he was big on going out into the human world and having fun, leaving the rest of
the pack with confusing orders and a mess to pick up themselves.” Mikael frowned at
that, realized he was plucking blades of grass as he spoke. “It was ugly. He was alpha, my
dad his oldest son of two and expected heir, his mate a respected alpha bitch, and my
grandfather made fools of them all with his antics. The pack was weakening, and were
about to be outright wiped out by the enemy pack.”

“Obviously, you didn’t get wiped out. Why was that?”

“My father,” Mikael stated simply.

Dean glanced towards the path, as if looking to see if curious pack members were
creeping up the path as Mikael had done earlier. “What did he do? There wasn’t much
that he could do, was there?”
“Like I said, if you can find the right reason, an alpha can be removed from his position,”
Mikael explained slowly, waiting and watching Dean’s face.

Dean chewed on that for a moment, then his eyes lit up. “Your dad found a way to make
your grandfather look like a traitor, didn’t he?”

“Not through lying,” Mikael added quickly. “My father is a hard man, but he’s no dirt
bag. It wasn’t difficult to make the case. My grandfather was killing off the pack with bad
decisions, neglecting his duties to party in the human world with other members who
were keeping an eye on him. Resources were ruined or squandered. If that doesn’t sound
like treachery, what does?”

Dean whistled. “Your dad had his own father removed from the alpha position?”

“Yeah, and when you get called a traitor…” Mikael gave an almost apologetic shrug.
“Well, you know what happens to humans when they’re accused of treason.”

“Huh. So that led to your grandfather being executed, and I’m guessing your dad instantly
became alpha then?”

“Yeah, and the pack was in for a surprise. They thought they had seen it all when he
finally had the balls to challenge the alpha through the proper channels, but they were
wrong. My dad went…Well, he came down hard. He punished the wolves who had
played when enemies were at their doorstep, he restricted people to rations. He stopped
people from interacting with the human world.”

“What about his brother? You didn’t mention him in this at all.”

Mikael’s face took on a dark cast. “Turns out my dad knew even before he took over that
it was his brother that had sold the pack out— set up the ambush that started it all. My
sweet uncle didn’t want to wait till grandfather handed over the reins or died. He was a
good part of the reason the war was going so badly. But grandfather was blind to
everything, especially his kids. So, Dad waited until he was in charge, brought his
evidence forward, and had his brother executed for the traitor he was.”
Dean frowned. “His own dad and brother…That’s…”

“Rough,” Mikael finished. “My father is a tough man. I’m not going to sit here and
pretend he’s not, because he is. He’s overbearing and controlling, and he makes decisions
sometimes based off of his hatred of what his dad and his brother almost did to this pack.
But it was those same things that saved this pack. He whipped this pack back into shape,
fought off the enemy pack, and killed their alpha himself. His strictness allowed resources
to be restored and ensure they were used properly afterwards. Keeping us out of the
human world kept us from drawing attention to ourselves while we were weak. He let
others out, and some in, when he knew that it was time. He hates the necessity of working
with the human world, but he knows that it’s necessary.”

“Weird thought but”—Dean cocked his head— “I wonder what goes on in his head
sometimes. To have lived through all of this and to be faced with all the changes pushing
at him.”

Mikael sighed. “I honestly don’t know, Dean. My father isn’t one to be denied, and my
mother is the only one who has had real success with controlling him. He’s a hero to this
pack, even if they are chafing under his stranglehold. I don’t…I really don’t think he’s
ready for a new age, a new way of doing things. But with war looking like it’s right
around the corner, it’s hard czzff for me to say. He’s the kind of person we need during
this time.”

Dean leaned back, looking thoughtful for a moment before speaking. “You telling me this
so I’ll be nicer to your dad?”

With a snort, Mikael shook his head. “I know you aren’t going to stop being you. Anyone
with eyes and ears can see that the two of you are meant to butt heads. The old ways and
the new ways are gonna fight.”

“I do respect tradition you know,” Dean protested, looking almost offended again. “’It’s
not like I’m just…rebelling against his ideas because they’re old-fashioned or whatever.”

“No, you’re not,” Mikael agreed. “But you’re still modern, and he’s not. You might
respect tradition, but you told us yourself, you don’t think following something just
because it’s been that way forever is the right way to go. That’s about as opposite from
him as it gets.”
“Well, it makes a lot of sense. He’s everything your grandfather wasn’t. I respect that.
No, seriously, I do. He’s a tough leader, and he saved this pack. Even I can’t deny that,
but I still say that his ways will lead to everything falling apart in the end. You can’t stay
the same while the world changes around you and expect it to work out.”

Mikael sighed. “Well. That’s an argument for another time, I think. It’s about time we
headed back.”

Dean rolled toward him, eyeing him carefully. “Does that mean you have in mind what I
have in mind?”

“Food.”

“I knew I loved you for a reason.”

Mikael was thankful that they had been allowed to spend the rest of the day in relative
peace. Considering how long it had been since the last time he’d been home, he had
expected more than a few people to come calling at some point. Yet they’d been left
alone for the remainder of the day and night. Dean suspected Katarina’s hand in that, and
Mikael was inclined to agree with him. His sister seemed quite intent on interfering as
much as possible when it came to the two of them.

Not that he would complain. After being so tense about coming back, it was nice to have
some quiet time for the two of them. It was so unlike the last time, when it had seemed
that everyone wanted a piece of his time. This time around, he managed a full day without
one person making a claim on him. He wondered how much of that was Katarina’s
influence, and how much of it was because Mikael and Dean were almost considered
mated.

Dean, looking almost smug, had seemed content with the idea when Mikael had finally
voiced it. Mikael had been amused, but he wondered if Dean really knew the full extent
of what he was signing up for. You could break the mate bond, of course, though it was
as difficult as a human divorce, and it was even more guilt-strewn. For the most part,
when two people were officially mated, they were for all intents and purposes, married.

Not more than a couple of weeks before, when he had attempted to explain the full
implications of what Dean was fighting so hard for, the man had shushed him. Of course,
he had shushed him by giving Mikael’s mouth something else to do, happily distracting
him. Any other time he tried to broach the subject, Dean only got that little smile of his,
his eyes lighting up warmly. Dean never said anything on the subject, and just let it pass
by him. It was hard to know what was going on in his head at times like that, but Mikael
wouldn’t deny that it warmed him down to his toes to see that warmth in his eyes all
the same.

The next day was spent in easy relaxation. Mikael was able to show Dean a few more
areas around The Grove, though they had a tendency to linger in some spots rather than
continuing the tour. By the time they moved into the training grounds for a little more
training, the afternoon was moving in. Mikael suggested that perhaps it was best to show
Dean a few easy moves without actually sparring. He knew damn well that the look in the
man’s eyes meant that if they sparred, they would be sidetracked before long.

Because the training session was so late in the day, hunger set in quickly, and they ended
the training early. The Grove was in full swing, with people milling about, some simply
talking, others carrying wood, food, and other supplies about. Some of the wolves were
obviously there as guards, tense from the whispers of oncoming war, but still relatively
relaxed in the safety of their home. Many waved or called out to them as they passed, and
it warmed Mikael to see some of them showing specific attention to Dean. The man took
it with good grace, but he was positively beaming from the bits of attention that he did
receive.

When they entered his house, he discovered that they weren’t alone. His mother stood by
one of the largest windows, gazing out into The Grove. She turned when they closed the
door behind them, smiling at the sight of them.

“Mom? What are you doing here?” Mikael asked, a little bewildered to see his mother
standing in his home. The last time she had visited had been shortly after he had finished
building it. Unable to stand living in the same home as his parents any longer, he had put
all his time and energy into building his own place. She, of course, had come to view his
work and while his father had simply grunted that it was passable, his mother had glowed
with pride. She had never said it before, at least not in his father’s hearing, but she was
always proud of his work. Some part of him always wondered if she also liked his
separation from his father’s plans. Lucille’s ability to be hard to read came straight from
their mother, and the older woman was far more adept at it.

“For the first time in Luna knows how long, I found myself at home, alone. As much as
the time alone has been blessed, I wanted to get out,” she explained, her warm smile on
both of them. While his mother’s expressions were always calculated and chosen
carefully, he knew they came from genuine emotion.

“Alone? Where’s Father?” Even here, in his own home, with Dean at his side, he still
spoke the man’s respectful title, Dean’s derision for the title aside. He did understand the
human objection to it, but he supposed to someone who hadn’t been raised in The Grove,
on the history that he himself knew so well, titles would seem arrogant.

“It was past time that he had a talk with Ethan. He left yesterday afternoon. He should be
returning tomorrow. I’m sure when he returns, he will call on you.” Her gaze shifted to
Dean and her smile returned. “Ah, probably both of you. I am sure he will wish to speak
to both of you. It has been sometime since the both of you were here, or at least it feels
that way. Much has happened.”
“Wait, he left?” Mikael asked incredulously. His father hadn’t willingly left The Grove in
ages. The last time had been when Mikael had been a young child.

Her brow rose slowly. “With his heir here, he is secure in being able to leave.”

The grimace he gave only made her smile all the wider, though it prompted Dean to
speak. “Is the heir position really all that big of a deal?”

“Yes, it is of absolute importance to us,” Matalina responded, smoothing out her skirt as
she faced him. “My son is heir, which means that he is to follow his father’s footsteps and
be alpha. Without his father here, there needs to be someone in his place.”

“Aren’t you…his mate, though?”

Amusement filled her face. “You can say it Dean. I am his mate and the alpha bitch. That
isn’t an insult for werewolves. Quite the opposite.”

“Old habits,” he said by way of explanation, looking a little embarrassed.

“It is simple for us,” she explained. “Although I am the alpha bitch, the next heir is male.
Thus, he must be present if the current alpha wishes to feel secure in leaving. It’s true that
it is my privilege and right to lead while my mate is gone, but my son will still speak with
my husband’s voice, if it comes to it.”

Dean looked at Mikael. “So, he’s the ’just in case’?’”

Mikael made a face at the man. “Cute. But yeah, that’s about it.”

A thought occurred to Dean. “You once said that if I was mated…Mikael’s mate, then I
would be in your position once he became alpha, right?”

She eyed him curiously. “That is correct. Did you just correct the word mated?”
Dean made a face. “Sounds crude. ‘His mate’ sounds better. But more importantly, will I
be called Alpha Bitch?”

Matalina’s face twitched, and Mikael realized that his mother was trying very hard not to
laugh. “Yes, that would be your formal title.”

“But I’m not…a bitch.” He started to turn red, shooting Mikael a dirty look, as if
expecting him to say something. Mikael wasn’t going to say anything, but the obvious
joke about their sexual roles bubbled up in his mind. It was all too easy to ignore his
mother’s evaluating stare as he whipped his head away from Dean, just in case the man
saw the humor threatening to burst out.

“Perhaps not, but the title would still be the same,” she said, her eyes still on her oldest.
“If it helps at all Dean, it is only a title. Most, out of deference, would refer to you as you
wish. If you wish for a different title, that could be done, as you have seen my mate do. It
brings me pride to be referred to as his mate, and that is often times my title as well. The
only time it becomes important to be called by the ‘true’ title is during rituals.”

“Oh,” Dean said and then, after a beat of silence. “Who’s Ethan?”

“The alpha to another forest pack, nearest to us,” Mikael explained, finally able to face
the two of them with a straight look on his face. “He’s usually on good terms with our
pack, but I’m sure Father is just going to make certain about that.”

Dean frowned. “You called Damian’s pack a mountain pack. Do you differentiate like
that with all packs?”

Mikael shrugged. “More or less. Mountain packs tend to be tough, but aren’t usually that
big. Forest packs tend to be larger and, some say, more connected to nature. Shore packs
are a little strange, even by our standards, but their unique connection to nature lets them
know things we normally don’t. Desert packs are probably the sturdiest. They can survive
just about anything, but they’re pretty isolated and not very social.”

“Product of your environment, huh?” Dean asked, looking thoughtful as he usually did
when he was mulling something over. Mikael waited a moment to see if Dean had
anything else he wished to add or ask. The man was intelligent, and incredibly inquisitive
as well. He could switch between asking a few dozen questions back to being quiet and
pondering over something, in an instant. The only way to know what was coming next
was to wait. There usually wasn’t much of a break between questions when the man
threw them out, so if a break drew out, it usually meant he was done for the moment.

The way his mother was looking at Dean told Mikael that she was expecting much of the
same from the human. When Dean looked up, she gave him a small smile. Dean blinked
at her, looking at Mikael before something like understanding reached his eyes.

“This seems like the point where I should mention that I promised a little girl some help
with picking flowers,” Dean said, eyeing Matalina.

“Little Ashlyn,” Mikael laughed. “That girl. She can get just about anybody to do what
she wants them to.”

Dean shrugged. “I’m a sucker for the big doe eyes, and she’s sweet.”

“When did she manage to snag you to ask you for that?”

“Yesterday. I told her I would try to do it with her today at some point and almost forgot.
So, now’s as good a time as any, right?” Dean smiled at Matalina, who had finally taken a
seat in one of the nearby chairs. His mother was in Mikael’s home for more than a casual
visit, and Dean, having picked up on that, was making his escape.

Mikael took hold of Dean’s chin and kissed him gently, letting his lips linger for a
moment. It was chaste, but just intimate enough to put a bit of color in Dean’s cheeks as
he pulled back, a little flustered.

“I’ll be back later,” he said, edging to the door and opening it. “It was nice seeing you
again, Matalina. Try to catch me in another moment of free time?”

Silence filled the house with the man gone, somehow his absence making the room seem
a little dimmer. That thought had Mikael smirking at himself as he realized that he was
being more than a little sentimental. When had he turned into a bag of sentimentality and
softness?
“I see things have improved between you two.” His mother’s soft voice intruded on his
thoughts.

Mikael frowned, fighting the urge to shuffle his feet. “We’ve always been fine.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “I see. So, it’s perfectly normal for a bonded pair to spend as much
time apart as you both did while you were here? To leave one alone in this house while
the other runs about, doing who knows what? For one to leave completely, only to come
back and almost start a brawl with the other’s father?”

“I…”

“Oh, Mikael,” she sighed, “you are so much like your father at times.”

He wasn’t sure if that was meant as a compliment or not. “I am his son.”

“That you are, in so many ways. Including believing that no one knows what goes on
with you unless you give leave to know it. Never understanding that there are those of us
who do notice and pay attention. And a good dose of stubbornness mixed with a refusal to
do things the way another says you should.”

“I think you’re mixing up the last part with Dean,” he mumbled, not feeling all that good
about those being the characteristics that marked him as his father’s son.

She scoffed. “That man is a handful, I will certainly give you that. He has your father
positively incensed, which is amusing in its own right. Though, were you to ask me, I
would say your father grudgingly respects any human willing to stand up to him, even if
he hates it with all his being. It’s good for him, though.”

“Uh huh.” Mikael smiled a little. “I’m sure you ran right to Father to tell him that.”

A delicate eyebrow rose, a sly smile taking her face. “How do you think I broached the
subject of giving Dean the trial period?”
Mikael blinked. “You actually told him that? And it…it worked to convince him to
consider admitting Dean? We are talking about the same man, right?”

This time, she simply laughed. “Sometimes, I forget what it’s like to look at a parent
through a child’s eyes. It has been so long since I had to do it, and for some things, it can
be easy to forget because you want to. Mikael, you’re thinking as his son, rather than
through the eyes of a mate. Don’t get that look on your face—you know what I mean.
Think of how you react when anyone else tries to tell you what to do or how to do
something. Even when it was your father, you still balked, still had to do things
your way.”

“Sometimes,” Mikael muttered, looking at his feet in shame.

“We’ll get to that little slip in your patterns in a moment,” she promised him, “but for
now, you know what I’m saying is true. Now think of when Dean does the same thing,
when he wants you to do something, or he tells you something you don’t want to hear. Do
you act the same way as you would with any other person, including your family?”

Mikael didn’t even have to think about it. “No.”

“Because you love him,” she supplied gently, “and because he is your mate. It is no
different with your father and I. You see him as your father, your alpha, but he is
my mate.”

Mikael gave a slight nod as he sat down, wondering just what sort of things his mother
managed to do that he would never have dreamed of doing. If his mother and father were
anything like he and Dean, his mother could probably get away with just about anything
if she truly wanted to. Then again, considering the tactics Dean often used to get what he
wanted, Mikael didn’t really want to think too hard about that subject. There were some
things even liberally-minded werewolves weren’t willing to delve into too deep.

“As I was saying before…” Adopting a more casual posture, his mother still somehow
managed to look dignified and in control. Again, only Lucille had managed to master that
particular skill, though Matalina seemed far more warm and open than his sister. Lucille
had inherited too much of their father’s stiff chill for that. “Things certainly have
improved between the two of you. I dare say that goodbye was actually quite sweet.”
Mikael shifted uncomfortably under his mother’s penetrating gaze. “We are…
affectionate. It’s not like you don’t know what we are or anything. I think I can manage
feeling comfortable enough to give him a goodbye kiss.”

“Mhm, and calling him your mate in front of half the pack,” she mused, smiling softly
again.

Mikael sputtered, “It wasn’t half! Ugh, the people in this pack are the worst sort of
gossips, I swear it. How long did it take for that to get passed around?”

“It took all of ten minutes after Katarina had thoroughly chased everyone off before I
heard about it.”

“They act like I made this big announcement,” Mikael complained, his hands flopping
beside him in frustration, “you know, instead of just using the word like humans would
‘boyfriend’.”

“You have been in the human world a while if you have started thinking of ‘mate’ as
equivalent to ‘boyfriend’. And as far as I can tell, no one thinks — well, mostly no one
thinks — that you did it as an act of rebellion. Even this pack realizes that something is
different about the way you are with Dean. Helps that you were so casual about it,
I’m sure.”

Mikael shrugged. “How many times can I say, ‘I was not thinking of it that way’ before it
sinks into people’s heads, you think?”

“That would be the problem.” She placed her hand atop his. “You did mean it that way.
It’s obvious, even back when you were pulling away, that you love each other. Our kind
are prone to passions, and, apparently, he is not much different. He loves you just as
much as any werewolf, and it takes no great leap of intuition to realize that you feel the
same. Of course, with those emotions shared between you, you would unconsciously
think of him as your mate. What does he think about it?”

Mikael shifted a shoulder as if trying to shrug. “He…doesn’t really say much. I mean,
I’ve tried to explain that it’s kind of a big deal. But he just gives me this…look, and keeps
on doing what he’s doing.”
“A look?”

“Uh, a happy smirk?” Mikael replied, not certain how to explain the expression he saw
when the subject came up. It wasn’t quite that simple. There seemed to be a lot of
emotion behind that one expression. Even Dean’s body language was complicated when
the subject was raised. Stiff, but turned toward him and open. It was all really hard to
figure out.

“Sounds to me like you have nothing to worry about with him, then,” she said, patting his
hand. “Then again, I could have told you that before you left. I am sure that you have him
by your side as long as you are willing to do the same for him. I have known so many
humans to be fickle in the way that they act and feel, but he is a fine example of how it is
not wise to put all humans under one label.”

He snorted at that. “Man is more willful than I’ve ever been.”

“No, you are just as willful.” Her eyes glinted with amusement. “But I think he’s thrown
things off for you.”

“Is this going to be a talk about my cowardice?” Mikael asked, proud that his voice didn’t
waver when he said it. But that didn’t stop him from flinching when she looked at him
critically, eyes searching his face. If there were ever moments that he hated how
observant his mother could be, this was one of those moments. It really did feel like she
was reading his every thought.

“I would say,” she began slowly, still eyeing him carefully, “that is a rather strong choice
of word. And I wish I had known it was that bad for you, for I would have come to talk to
you sooner. Luna, you really are your father’s son.”

He jerked at that. “What?”

“You may not see it, but your father is not nearly as stoic as he puts on. That man takes
every decision he makes to heart, and he takes any failure even deeper than that. You both
have a tendency to be far too hard on yourselves.”

Mikael’s jaw tightened as he huffed, “And if you wouldn’t call it cowardly, what would
you call it?”
“Well, it wasn’t brave, I will give you that.” She shrugged lightly. “But you cannot be
expected to face every fear the same way. Mikael, your whole life you have done things
your way, giving in only enough to allow your father to feel better. Outside of that, you
have done what you wished, as you wished to do it. You’ve spent your life being my
little, willful, independent wolf pup, and that’s just how it’s always been. And then this
man comes along and just…falls into your life. I mean, honestly, were you really
expecting this?”

It was a question that really didn’t need an answer, they both knew it already. Before
Dean, Mikael had resigned himself to a life alone. When the time came to take on the
mantle of alpha, he would have simply chosen a woman he saw fit to lead beside him.
You didn’t always have to be mated to the alpha bitch, and he would have willingly
chosen a strong partner to lead with him. He knew what he liked, and his chances of
dating were… minimal. He’d had relationships with people before, all human, but the
little secret of his certainly formed a substantial barrier.

Then Dean had come along and everything had just…clicked. Their relationship had been
easy from the start, even if his chest and gut felt as if they were filled with a poorly-
contained ball of energy. He and Dean had fallen so readily into a pattern with one
another
—he was comfortable and relaxed around the man. Even the sex had come so effortlessly
to them, with both naturally falling into their respective roles. Life itself had taken care of
his secret, baring it before Dean in the rawest of ways, but the man had taken the punch
and rolled with it.

“Exactly,” Matalina continued. “You weren’t ready for this. I would place money that
you didn’t think it was even a possibility in the first place. So here you are, a man with
his life figured out, content to be alone for the remainder of his life. Then along comes
someone who changes it completely, throwing your plan, and you, on your head. You
were scared for the first time in your life, Mikael. That’s what happened to you. Not
exactly cowardice, but love.”

“Love isn’t supposed to be scary.” Mikael scowled at his mother, eyeing her resting hand
suspiciously.

“Ha! So the singers like to say,” she chuckled softly. “But we all know to take anything a
singer says with a grain of salt, my son. Love is absolutely terrifying. Everything you
thought you knew about yourself, about your world, comes into question. Suddenly this
one person becomes important in a way that no other person has ever been before. Their
joy is your joy, their sorrow is your own, and their very existence can change and warp
every aspect of your life. Love changes things in ways that no one except those in love
could ever dream. For a man who had everything figured out, that would be absolutely
terrifying.”

Mikael wanted to scowl further but instead only laughed. “Mother, you make it sound
like I’m shaking in my boots over him.”

“Maybe not now, now that you almost lost him.” Her fingers stroked his as she held his
gaze in her own. “But you found yourself caught up in a situation you weren’t prepared
for, and your father thought to force you to leave the relationship. Yes, he may have told
you that it was because of your responsibilities, but we both know you can be alpha and
be with Dean, and your father knows that, as well. Bless the man, but he can sense a weak
point at a glance, and will go straight for it. Next thing we all know, you’re shoving Dean
away, piece by piece.”

“If you knew this was happening, why didn’t you speak up?” Mikael asked, unsure if he
should be annoyed or just simply curious.

“And what good would that have done?” she asked, frowning at him. “Would you have
learned a thing? If you cannot stand before your father for what you want, then you do not
deserve to have it. I know, it wasn’t until the end that you finally did something. Later is
better than never, as they say.”

Mikael could only sigh and look down at their hands. “Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly do it
on my own.”

She swatted his hand. “And your father has done things on his own this whole time? Have
any of us been alone during any hard time? We’re a pack, Mikael. You don’t always have
to do everything on your own, you know. Is that what has been eating at you? That you
did not conquer hardship by your own motivation and means? Oh, Mikael, that man
might have riled everyone up, including you, but you still made the decision. Should
Dean be ashamed for the help you have given him?”

Mikael could see where she was going with this, but still answered honestly, “No.”

Hands spreading, as if displaying something before her, she chuckled. “Then, why should
you? You are still scared, I can see it in your eyes. Scared of failing him, scared of failing
yourself, scared beyond reason and logic that you will lose him somehow, or that you do
not deserve him. And for what? One moment of weakness? Love doesn’t need to be this
hard, my son. You are just making it so.”

“You know,” Mikael laughed suddenly, “one of Dean’s neighbors, this older woman, said
the same thing to me.”

“Oh? She sounds wise.”

“She’s scary, is what she is.” He winced at the memory of her gaze. “She…she doesn’t
much like me because of where I’m from. But she seems to love him, probably like he
was her own, and she, uh…read me the riot act. Don’t think she really knows what’s
happened, but she guessed the basics.”

Matalina smiled. “So not only have you chosen a man who will give you hell, but he lives
next door to a woman willing to do the same in his name?”

“Down the road, but yeah.”

That brought another bought of laughter. “Marvelous! You seem destined to surround
yourself with people who will keep you on your toes.”

She stood, standing before him and smiling down at him. “My boy, you really are making
this more complicated than it needs to be. Let me make it simple for you.”

Willing to play along, he nodded. “If you can, please.”

“Think hard, but not about your fears… think of when he looks at you, giving you that
secret smile I’m sure he has. Think of the way his eyes look when they look upon you.
Hear the change in his voice when he speaks to you. Think of all these things.”

Even when he wasn’t around Dean, Mikael thought about him. The way his eyes always
seemed to glow, warm and happy, when they looked at him. The drop in his voice when
he spoke to Mikael, low and sweet in their most intimate of moments. Even the shift in
his body language when he heard Mikael’s voice or he saw him from a distance. These
were
the things Mikael loved, the little things that made him feel strong - stronger than he had
ever felt before.

“That is love,” Matalina said, putting her finger between his eyes. “I see it on your face.
That’s all you need to worry about. That feeling and nothing else, you hear me?”

Mikael smiled, feeling a bit better, though maybe not completely sure. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Liar.” She smiled fondly, tracing his jaw with her fingers. “But I would expect no less.
You have to come to things in your own time. You always have. Just know, I’ll have your
tail if you lose him. Anyone watching knows you two are positively crazy about each
other.”

Mikael ducked his head. “Didn’t you come here to talk to me about pack business?”

The hope for an escape died when she clucked her tongue, patting his shoulder. “No. I
came here to speak to my son about his love life. Now I am about to go and speak to his
mate about what fun things he has learned in his grandfather’s books.”

Mikael huffed. “Wait, he’s going to talk to you about it? He just waves me off any time
I ask!”

“Be calm. He will be going over it when your father comes back. Of that, I am certain.
Your father will want to make sure that Dean has been living up to his promise in its
entirety. I have no doubt that Dean will leave nothing for him to bite at, so of course he
will be positively foul afterward.”

Even when it sounded like she was criticizing his father, the obvious warmth and love she
felt for him was there in her voice. She was tough, and many wondered just how much of
their alpha’s decisions were his own and how much were his mate’s. No one would dare
ask, of course, as they tended to value their skins. However, as much as his mother loved
her husband, Mikael had seen her restrain him with a word or look more than once. She
was quiet, but she had a force behind her that was impossible to miss.

“You’re just gonna let them have at it, too, huh?” Mikael asked, grinning wickedly at her.
“I like to think of it as good for the both of them. As Dean will be a part of this pack in
full in time, it is better that he and your father find some way to coexist. Better to deal
with the difficult parts early on, I say.”

Mikael snorted. “You’re not any better than Katarina. You both enjoy watching Dean rail
at him.”

Her face gave away nothing, though he would swear there was a mischievous glint to her
eyes. “Now, Mikael, I would never advocate someone driving my mate to his wit’s end.
Not even if my mate is thickheaded and set in his ways, and might just be in need of some
shaking up.”

“You wouldn’t out loud, maybe.”

The whole of her face lit up as she opened the door, in contrast to the face most of the
pack saw. In public, she was careful and refined, always mindful of what she did and
didn’t show. She was well-loved because even behind that careful control, her warmth
exuded. Yet alone, like this, the full effect of her personality could shine through. She
looked at him with such an open display of love, and it was the last piece of the puzzle to
make him feel that he was finally home.

“I do love you, Mikael,” she said, beaming. “I’m so happy for you.”

He could feel the heat in his face, but he returned the smile. “Thank you, Mother.”

She cocked her head, eyes flicking to the bedroom door as she stepped outside. “And do
make use of the oils I made. They are not meant for show.”

His indignant, “Mom!” followed her out the door with her laughter.
It wasn’t quite early enough to be called too early for Dean, thankfully. The man had
been getting up before sunrise for months now. He had even dragged Mikael out of bed.
By the time Katarina showed up to deliver the news that Father was calling for them, they
had been awake for a while.

Mikael was glad that the summons didn’t come too early. Dean was normally a cheerful
and friendly person, but he was an absolute grump in the morning. Though Mikael had
long since adjusted to this facet of Dean’s personality, he doubted his father would be so
forgiving. If Mikael played his cards right, he could coax a smile or even a slightly
playful side out of a grumpy Dean. He didn’t think his father could do the same. The two
had a tense relationship as it was, without the added snarl of Dean’s pre-dawn
temperament.

The last time they had entered the main room, used for meetings such as this one, it had
been far too hot a summer day, at least for a room with torches serving as lighting. A nice
autumn morning meant the room was more comfortable. Both of Mikael’s parents were
sitting on the raised dais near the back of the room, waiting patiently for them. Mikael did
note that, this time, there were two pillows on the floor before the dais, and he wondered
how much of that was his mother’s doing.

For her part, his mother looked as calm and serene as she always did when participating
in official matters. His father, while usually a stern and serious-looking man, seemed a
little more irritable than Mikael had expected. His father looked tired, too, though he most
certainly was doing everything he could to hide that fact. It did little to color his initial
behavior, however, and Mikael was both wary and slightly pleased by the polite if cool
greeting that he gave to them both. Dean returned the sentiment, though Mikael’s greeting
was as formal as it always was.

Neither Mikael nor Dean had talked about the meeting, not even after the summons had
arrived. When Dean had returned from his flower-picking errand after Mikael’s mother
had left, they had talked about everything but the meeting they’d known the next day
would bring. Mikael knew that Dean hadn’t been looking forward to the meeting. Father
was, by and far, Dean’s least favorite person in the pack. It wasn’t exactly a secret that
neither had seen eye-to-eye, but Mikael considered this polite, albeit chilly greeting
between them to be a good sign. At least they weren’t immediately at each other’s throats.
His father motioned for them to have a seat, his expression unchanging as Mikael and
Dean placed themselves on their cushions. Mikael could feel the human’s stiff posture
beside him, and he thought it had less to do with the slightly formal proceedings and more
with Dean’s own wariness. Mikael couldn’t blame him, as their last interaction had been
terse following a literal fight between the two of them. Guilt bubbled in his gut at the
thought, but he shoved the thoughts away for another time.

“Father,” he began, “I hope everything with Ethan went well?”

Samuel frowned, his eyes shifting slightly in Dean’s direction, before he responded,
“Well enough. I can say that he won’t be aligning himself with Damian. However, I don’t
think he’ll be helping us if we run into…trouble.”

“He’s not willing to lend any aid?” Mikael asked, a sinking feeling in his gut at the news.
Their packs had always had a good relationship, and had aided one another in times of
need. Hell, Ethan’s father had been the one to help Father return order to his pack.

“Times have not been good to him lately, despite what help we’ve tried to give,” Samuel
said, “so he must focus on his own problems for the time being.”

Mikael could feel Dean brimming with questions, so he spoke quickly, hoping to
anticipate the man’s question for him. “So, he means to deal with his own problems, until
our problems become his?”

“He feels it won’t come to that,” Samuel informed them, jaw tightening, “but at least we
do not need worry about old allies.”

“Can’t rely on them, either, it seems,” Mikael replied bitterly.

“We can discuss this at another time, Mikael. I called you here for a different matter
entirely.”

Dean straightened up. “I assume you mean me.”

Samuel frowned. “You knew, as well as any of us, that this time would come.”

The human snorted. “You say that like I’m already on my way out. I’ve stuck to what I
swore I would do didn’t I?”

“Entirely?”

Dean bristled at the question, probably hating how much doubt there was in the alpha’s
words. Mikael’s mother hadn’t moved, keeping her eyes on the two of them. She had
been right about them. They would have to find a way to work through this on their own
eventually. Both Mikael and Dean knew that Dean had kept to his end of the deal,
whatever his father insinuated.

“I have provided for the pack,” Dean replied, voice tight. “You have better food reserves
than you did before. And because of some of the trading and dealing I did, you also have
a few different resources than you had before, including wood—so that you don’t have to
take from the forest—medical supplies, and other things. I have stuck to my end of
the deal.”

“And your Keeper duties?” To the alpha’s credit, he didn’t sound incredulous or
disbelieving. In fact, Mikael could swear his father was purposely adopting a very neutral
tone of voice. What that meant was anyone’s guess at this point, but he did feel some of
the tension ebb out of Dean at the shift.

“I’ve been studying the bits that you gave me,” Dean told him, sitting a little more
proudly now. “I haven’t forgotten my end of things in that regard, either.”

Samuel glanced at Matalina. “I suppose you already spoke to him about this?”

Slowly, she nodded, her eyes glittering in the light of the torches. “Yesterday, as a matter
of fact. I think you’ll find his knowledge satisfactory.”

The alpha grunted, looking at Dean. “And what have you learned?”

Dean shrugged, either not knowing or caring how disrespectful the gesture was. “Depends
on what you want me to say. Do you want the whole creation myth? Do you want me to
list what I’ve learned about werewolves overall? Do you want me to list off the footnotes
some have added over the years?”

Samuel’s face tightened. “Myth?”

Dean barely restrained a sigh before raising a hand in apology. “I’m a historian at heart,
Samuel. It’s just a turn of phrase. I think it’s safe to say that I’m a little more open-
minded to the idea of it being less than a myth, after everything that I’ve seen in the past
year.”

That seemed to assuage Mikael’s father, for the moment. “And what have you learned
about us?”

“That your silver weakness is attributed to your connection with the moon, with Luna.”
Dean gestured up to the roof of the building. “Because you are children of the earth and
moon, you are also weak to the metal attributed to the moon, but dug from the earth. Your
biology makes it so that your passions run higher the fuller the moon, then drains from
you as the moon wanes. Even in human form you have higher metabolisms, and you heal
faster than humans, both of which gives you more stamina as well. Your senses are
superior to humans. You can hear and smell better than any human could, and in wolf
form, your senses are even more honed than a normal wolf, but you still have your human
mind. You’re more spiritually attuned, as well. The wolf in you is a spiritual thing, in
your souls, you are both man and wolf. Though on a physical level, you are either
perfectly human or perfectly wolf, depending on your form. But much of the mass of your
human form does get transferred to your wolf form, which is why you are often times
larger than actual wolves.”

Mikael blinked as the man rattled off the facts as if they were a numbered list sitting right
in front of him. This was the man who would forget to turn off the light in the bathroom
in the middle of the night after stumbling out of it, the man who had more than once left
the pasture gate open, allowing an animal or two to escape. Yet he spat out the facts as
easily as he would his own birthdate. Mikael knew the man had been studying
intensively, but he hadn’t known that Dean could recite it all without a moment of
hesitation.

Dean’s voice had been without attitude or irritation. There was nothing irreverent in his
voice. In fact, he had the excited tone of someone speaking about a favorite subject. His
eyes lit up as he spoke, though his voice stayed calm and precise. He spoke clearly and
with careful hand gestures, making sure that every word was heard and understood.
There was a pause when Dean finally finished, looking at the three werewolves with a
curious expression. Samuel leaned forward, eyeing the human with an intense dedication
that unnerved Mikael. Dean however, simply looked at the man calmly, as if awaiting the
verdict.

“And our creation tale?” Samuel asked, a genuine curiosity tinging his voice.

Dean caught the shrug this time, and remained still and poised. “Do you want the long,
flowery version, or do you want the basic synopsis?”

Mikael could almost swear he saw his father’s lip twitch. “Give me the basics. That
should be enough.”

Nodding, Dean took a breath. “I’ve already told Mikael a good chunk of this. My
grandfather actually used to tell me this story when I was younger. Of course, at the time,
I just thought it was some random story that he was very proud of.”

“Really? Your grandfather?”

“You didn’t know?” Dean asked, giving in and shrugging. “It was supposed to be a story
our people told for generations. At least, when our people were a people, and not families
with connections to their ancestors while living with the colonists.”

Samuel cocked his head, then motioned to Dean. “The story.”

“Right, so sticking to the basics.” Dean’s eyes darted around as if he were catching the
facts he needed. “It started before the moon came. A group of people, The People -
capitalized for simplicity’s sake - lived as best they could off of the earth, or Gaia, if you
prefer. When the moon came, it brought about great change. The two different versions of
the story are a bit vague on this part, but essentially a magic of some sort changed The
People. Some took to the land and all its bounty, attuning themselves to the light of the
day. They ‘spoke to the earth and beasts’, and wielded great influence over the lands they
watched over. The others were attuned to the light of the moon, becoming half beasts, in
this case half wolf, making them great warriors.”

Dean glanced at Mikael, smiling a little.

“Turns out that the People of the Sun and the People of the Moon didn’t get along too
well. They fought a lot and their war threatened everything. And… well, this part was
vague in Grandpa’s story, but it was a little clearer in the version that you guys had.
Apparently, all the bloodshed and rage awoke some great evil. It was called The
Darkness.”

Frowning, he looked down at his own hands as they twined around one another.

“And that was all it took. Where before each group of people had just wanted to be the
best, this ‘Darkness’ just wanted to destroy everything. Devour Gaia, Moon, and Sun -
anything that wasn’t itself. Banding together, the Peoples of the world managed to defeat
the evil for a time, and vowed to never spill blood in hate and ambition again.”

Mikael could tell the man had some commentary on the topic, and was only just
restraining himself from adding it in. He was thankful that the shortened version seemed
to be of interest to his father. For whatever faults his father found in Dean, he was
obviously finding none whatsoever in the man’s work.

“So, they decided to seal the pact with a marriage, or at least, I think it was a marriage.
The wording in the text was a little strange, but it was a strong bonding ceremony, so I’m
guessing marriage. One of the Sun and one of the Moon, sealing their vows. Now, the
people of the Sun had taken the brunt of the damage during that time, and they could
only, uh, mate with people. So, they were at a disadvantage to the people of the Moon - or
you know, werewolves. So, they began to mingle with humans, diluting their lines over
time. But the werewolves stuck to their promise, at least as far as the tale goes. They were
the warriors and they kept their vigil, distant from humans. As for the People of the Sun?
I have no idea, actually. They just kinda fade from the story after walking among man
from then on, tending to the land.”

Samuel nodded. “No one is quite sure where they all ended up. For the most part, they
show up now and again, but they tend to be reclusive. Either a pack snatches them up, or
they disappear, wanting nothing to do with werewolves.”

“Also,” Dean added, glancing in question at the three of them, “the text said that because
of your dual nature; your two spirits, you were more connected to the spiritual realm. But
I don’t really…see that in any of you…”
Matalina cleared her throat softly. “As the number of the Sun disappeared, so did much of
our connection with the spiritual world. It seems the two People were connected more
than we thought. In losing sight of our distant cousins, and letting them all but fade from
the world, we have lost much of our own gifts. The ability to change is our own, but I
believe that our connection with the spirit world was also connected to those of the Sun.
As they faded from the world, so too did our gift.”

“Why? If you get the changing bit, why couldn’t you keep the spiritual part?”

“The People of the Sun could speak to beasts and could bless a land to be bountiful and
plenty. Those were their innate gifts - nothing could take that from them any more than
one can take our gifts of enhanced senses or shapeshifting. But the abilities to speak with
spirits, and that of speaking to the land directly - those were two sides of the same coin.
That was the thread that connected both of the People, reminding them of their origins.
When one dwindled, the other suffered.”

Belatedly, their conversation sunk into Mikael’s thoughts, his mother’s words ringing
through his head. Something jolted in his gut, his head turning from his father so he
stared directly at Dean. The man was so lost in his thoughts that he hardly noticed the
sharp movement. Only after a moment did he break from his thoughts and gaze at Mikael
in confusion. “Mikael?” he asked.

Blinking, Mikael looked at his parents. His father seemed merely annoyed at the
interruption, having finally found something to be pleased about when it came to Dean’s
existence. His mother, however, was looking at him intently. With a faint nod of her
head, barely perceptible, he realized she suspected the same thing he did.

His father’s sharp voice cut across the silence. “Mikael?”

His mouth opened, but his mother’s faint head shake stopped him. He said, instead,
“Sorry, Father. It’s nothing.”

Dean stared at him for a moment longer before turning to Mikael’s father. “Does that
about cover it for you then?”

“I will admit, it was more than I expected of you,” the alpha said, “and it is a good start,
for the—”
“A good start?” Dean asked, incredulous. “That was everything you asked for, and then
some! I probably know more about what’s in those books than you do. I nearly have the
whole thing memorized completely. That’s a bit more than a ‘good start,’ wouldn’t
you say?”

Samuel stiffened. “This is hardly a simple matter, not that I expect you to understand.
You are an outsider, and to become a true member of the pack when you’re an outsider is
not a simple matter of memorizing some words and sending on some corn.”

“Corn? It was a hell of a lot more than that, and all of it was at cost to me! You might not
think it a big deal that I took a hit for the sake of the pack, but that doesn’t make it less of
one.” Dean huffed, almost beginning to rise. “For someone who talks about family and
the good of the pack, you sure do make it hard for people to help. Hell, if even the basics
of the old story are true, I very well could be distantly related to you guys, making me
halfway there from the moment I was born.”

Samuel caught onto the insinuation quickly, bringing himself up to his full sitting height.
“You are no Person of the Sun, no matter what your grandfather said.”

Dean rolled his eyes, exasperated. “That’s not what I was saying. But if my ancestors
carried that story, it probably means they used to either birth them or, at the very least,
had enough to do with your pack back in the day to have shared genes.”

Matalina blinked at that, examining Dean. “Is that possible?”

Samuel snarled, “No. He’s reaching for a quick answer.”

“Quick?” Dean laughed. “There was nothing quick about it. Every piece of food or
resource is hours of my hard work—work I have done by myself. Every morsel of food
you got from me was brought through my sweat and work, Samuel. Every piece of
knowledge in my head that I just gave you came from hours of studying the old texts,
carefully piecing it together, while respecting the age of the books themselves. Don’t sit
there and pretend as if anything I’ve done for the pack has been ‘quick.’ Don’t insult me
by acting as if I’ve offered you a sandwich and called it a banquet.”

Samuel’s nostrils flared and his jaw tightened, though the movement of his mate’s hand to
his back seemed to soften his words slightly. “You do not demand things of me, Dean. I
will make my judgment on this matter after I have given it some thought. You showed
your dedication to one half of the promise, and now you have shown me the dedication to
the other. I will think on it, and you will not demand more than that of me.”

Dean stood, his movements slow and not threatening, yet clear all the same. Samuel’s jaw
was tight enough that Mikael would swear his father’s teeth were about to crack. It was
rare that anyone would show Samuel even the slightest amount of resistance, let alone
dare to display such outright disobedience.

“Fine, if you’ll excuse me then, Samuel, Matalina,” he said, nodding to each and walking
to the door. Amazed that his father was allowing it, Mikael only sat there and watched.
The silence that hung over the room after Dean left was a little uncomfortable. Mikael
didn’t very much like the look of accusation on his father’s face as he sat before him.

“What?” Mikael finally asked, unable to take the silence any longer.

“All the women in the world you could have chosen—most of them with the best
lineage”—Samuel growled through grit teeth—“and you choose him?”

Mikael laughed a little, unable to help it. “Father, it’s Dean. I didn’t really get much say
in the matter. Once I said I wanted him, I was done for right then. Never stood a chance.”

“You should teach him manners,” the older man growled, eyes flashing. “You wish him
to be your mate? Control him.”

Mikael’s eyes flicked to his mother, and he was barely able to suppress his grin. “Like
you control Mother?”

Samuel’s face stilled, going neutral in a way that signaled a sudden surge of thought. The
slight turn of Matalina’s head indicated she was thinking the same thing. His father would
no sooner try to control her than he would kiss Dean full on the mouth. His father was a
proud man, however, and he would never admit it aloud. Yet he was also no fool to say
otherwise, even though the conversation was relatively private.

“Best prepare,” Samuel said instead. “Damian will be here within a week—a few
nights, even.”

Mikael was startled. “He’s…coming here?”

Samuel’s mouth twisted. “Of course. His emissaries might have visited us, but since
they’ve been denied, he will be coming in person. It will make my inevitable rejection of
his tainted gift even more insulting to him. I’m sure he will ride that for all it is worth
when he tries to convince his…allies, to wipe us out.”

Mikael nodded, hearing the dismissal in the man’s tone. “I may run with Dean tomorrow
morning, or perhaps at night. I’ll be here any other time though, so if you need me, you
know where to find me.”

“No doubt,” the alpha sighed, aggrieved. “If he knew how dangerous it is to be a member
of our pack right now, I do not think he would be so anxious to be one of us.”

Mikael smiled softly. “I think you can say the same thing about challenging you, Father.
If anything, the danger will only make him more determined.”

To that, his father had no reply, save to tersely wave him out the door.
The night was quiet, save for Dean’s soft breathing. After their talk with Mikael’s
parents, neither had said very much. Mikael had recognized that Dean was deep in
thought, and his own mood had been bad as well. Nothing about the discussion had left a
very favorable impression on him. In all honesty, it had left him more worried and
confused than before. While he was definitely proud of the man sleeping beside him, and
even more so for the way he’d handled himself during the meeting, he wasn’t surprised at
Dean’s poise, or his courage.

Well, maybe a little. It had been a little rough at the end there, but he supposed the
clashing had been inevitable. His mother had been right all along - they were going to
eternally butt heads, and maybe it was good for the both of them.

As much as Mikael knew his father wasn’t accustomed to being challenged, he was
getting the idea that Dean wasn’t used to being talked back to, either. Having watched the
man work for months, he was pretty sure that Dean was used to having his way when he
truly put his mind to something. He’d yet to figure out if deep down the man actually
enjoyed the confrontations, or if he were really as frustrated as he appeared. Now that
Mikael thought about it, he had to wonder the same thing about his father. But that train
of thought only led to him wondering just how different the two men really were, and
Mikael did not want to travel that mental road.

Dean’s hand slipped up to rest on his chest, surprising him out of his thoughts. He caught
the man’s gaze resting sleepily on him. The sleepiness on his face didn’t hide the concern
that was there. It was too dark to see his brown eyes clearly, it was so dark that they
looked black. He could see the smile, though, and feel Dean’s fingers stroking his skin.

“Got a lot on the brain?” Dean asked, his voice only a little rough from sleep.

“A little,” Mikael admitted, bringing his own hand over to rub the man’s lower back.

“I think it’s more than a little,” Dean chuckled. “Pretty sure your thoughts were loud
enough to wake me up.”
Mikael had to laugh softly at that, knowing that to wake Dean, his thoughts would have to
be really loud. Dean didn’t wake easily, save for when his alarm went off and he all but
leaped out of bed. Otherwise, the man slept like the dead. The few times he had woken up
in the middle of the night, he’d behaved very much like he was now - soft and pliant in
those midnight hours, sweet and gentle - a sharp contrast to the grumpy man after the
blare of the alarm.

“Just have a few thoughts running around, is all,” Mikael said, his fingers tracing Dean’s
warm skin. It was difficult to not pounce when Dean was like this, and every time before,
Mikael had failed to resist the temptation. There was something utterly erotic about the
man’s body laid out beside him, languid in movement, all slow motion and easygoing.
Even when he gave in so readily to Mikael during the day, it was fire and passion. But in
the quiet moments, Dean was a slow smolder, a passive release so different from the
active need of the daylight hours.

“Wanna lay them on me?”

Mikael didn’t answer at first, feeling Dean’s heat against him as he slipped closer. While
they certainly appreciated physical contact, Dean didn’t too often fall asleep cuddling.
Mikael didn’t take it personally. Unless bone tired, Dean was restless at night. Rarely a
night passed where Dean didn’t toss and turn in an attempt to find just the right position
to fall asleep in. Mikael thought it a little amusing, like watching a cat attempt to find that
perfect spot to sprawl out on for the next handful of hours.

Dean’s weight pressed down on his side as the man settled himself, humming happily.
“Talk to me Mikael.”

“I guess I’m just worried about all this pack stuff,” he finally said, knowing there was no
guessing about it at all—he was definitely worried. “Even my dad seems tense about it,
and I’ve never seen him worried about the other packs before. He made a comment after
you left about the sort of danger you could be in if you become a member of the pack.”

“What kind of danger?”

Mikael shrugged. “If a pack defeats another one, they’re pretty much free to do whatever
they want to the losing pack. If they want to make them part of their own pack, they can.
Sometimes, they take them in as they were, not really messing up the pack order. But
with
a pack like Damian’s? He’ll take what he wants, put it where he wants, and probably kill
the rest. Or at least put them somewhere shitty.”

Dean huffed. “And your dad is gonna say that he’s worried about me over that? When did
he become so worried about my wellbeing?”

Mikael laughed. “I’m not even going to try to make up a lie about that. It’s probably just
his way of trying to scare me all over again. He does make a good point, though.”

“How so?”

“Because it does put you in a lot of danger.” Mikael winced. “You’re only just getting
used to everything and now everything is going to hell. It exposes you to a lot of danger.
Hell, we could lose everything, Dean. What would that mean for you? You would be
joining the pack just in time for everything to fall apart. Is that really something you want
to walk in to?”

Dean pushed himself up so he was staring down at Mikael, frowning. “It’s not going to
make a difference to my decision, Mikael. I mean, it’s already too late.”

“How do you figure?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I heard other pack leaders have been here already. And Damian has
sent messengers to Samuel, hasn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“And you really think that this pack of gossips didn’t say something that gave away that
the heir is involved with someone? Someone who’s trying to be their mate? I mean, my
smell would be all over the place. It wouldn’t be too hard for someone to catch a scent of
me here somewhere, and it’s not like I live all that far away.”

The first part, Mikael hadn’t really thought of, even if he did constantly think of the pack
as a bunch of nosy gossips. He had considered the second point, though. He was hoping
that, if the worst happened and they went to war, the scent would have dissipated or at
least be lost in the confusion and mess. He hated to think about that, though—the loss of
everything he had ever known. It was partly what kept him awake. The other part was the
dark recognition that he was, once again, considering the idea of pushing Dean away for
his own good.

Dean sensed it, bumping his shoulder into Mikael. “Don’t even, Mikael. You don’t know
if any of that will happen. There’re too many holes in the ‘noble’ idea I can see forming in
that head of yours. You had better not even consider that idea, because this time, I’ll kick
your ass.”

Mikael laughed. “My ass? Whose ass did you kick last time?”

Dean swatted him. “Ass.”

Still laughing, Mikael wrapped his arm around Dean’s shoulders, preventing the man
from swatting him again for laughing. Dean made a show of struggling, wriggling against
him, attempting to half-heartedly get out of Mikael’s hold. Mikael rolled over so he lay
on top of Dean, who was still struggling, pushing Mikael’s chest as if to get up and away.

“Mm mm,” Mikael grunted, slipping his hands around the back of Dean’s head and
pulling him into a kiss. Dean stopped fighting the moment their lips met, making an
approving moan. Dean relaxed against him and rested his hands gently on his shoulders.
If Mikael weren’t distracted by the feel of the man against him, he would have counted
the seconds. Didn’t have to though, as the smaller man soon pushed his hips forward,
grinding himself against Mikael in a sudden - though not unexpected, gesture of lust.

Chuckling, he grabbed a handful of Dean’s ass and pulled him against him. Both of them
made a low noise of pleasure as Dean’s bare cock ground against Mikael’s through the
blanket that was wrapped awkwardly around them.

Dean broke the kiss long enough to deal with the blanket, then dipped his head to nip at
Mikael’s exposed torso. Mikael shifted, laughing a little as Dean’s moved lower and
lower on his body. He was a bit more forward than usual, moving like a man on a
mission.

The mission paused long enough for Dean to lean toward the bedside table to poke
around the bottles there. Mikael wondered what Dean was looking for, and why it had to
happen now when they were only just getting to the good stuff. He couldn’t see which
bottle Dean
grabbed, but apparently, Dean had been looking for something specific.

Dean wriggled back on top of Mikael, who tried to not ask what the man was up to. His
curiosity was short circuited however, when the sharp sting of Dean’s teeth dragged down
the sensitive skin of his side, down to his hips. The pain was just light enough to mix with
the pleasure of the man’s mouth on him. Dean punctuated the maneuver by sucking
gently on his hip, then trailing down to nuzzle against Mikael’s groin.

“Hell, you’re in a mood tonight,” Mikael gasped, his body already quickly amping up.

Dean hummed in response, and Mikael gave low groan as the heat of the man’s mouth
brushed over his cock. His hips rolled, sliding the length along the man’s lips. Dean
slowly kissed up the shaft, slipping out his tongue when he reached the head, sliding it
across the sensitive underside. The man liked to tease before he actually got to work, and
Mikael had a love-hate relationship with that. How long it would last would depend on
how anxious Dean was to really get started.

Dean’s lips surrounded the head of his cock, slipping down almost the moment after. A
thrill of pleasure coursed through him as Dean worked his way down slowly.
Unsurprisingly, Dean met the halfway point before he had to slide off Mikael’s cock to
catch his breath. Mikael had to chuckle at that. The man could take his cock so well when
it came to fucking, but he had trouble with sucking him off. Mikael couldn’t blame him,
as Gaia had seen it fit to gift Mikael with more than enough to work with, and rarely
could a person swallow the whole of it.

Dean’s face became clear in the dim light of the room. He was smirking up at Mikael
with an almost evil expression. The bottle reappeared, and suddenly, Mikael realized
what the man had in mind. No wonder Dean was so impatient to get going. Mikael had
seen that same look in his eyes when they had first realized what the contents of one of
the bottles was meant for. The anticipation curled up in his gut at the mere thought of it.

Winking, Dean popped open the bottle and carefully tipped it back. It was difficult to see
exactly what the man was doing. Considering what the stuff did, he guessed that Dean
was trying to get his throat coated with the liquid without getting the rest of his mouth in
the process. Mikael supposed it would be rather difficult to do much of anything if
Dean’s tongue ended up numb and useless.

Dean capped the bottle after a couple of moments, and then bent down to nuzzle Mikael’s
cock once more. Soft lips pressed against the base, the mouth shifting to the spot between
the upper thigh and groin. Mikael sighed, the sound slipping into a low hum as Dean’s
tongue lapped at the sensitive juncture. He slid his tongue up and over Mikael’s balls to
the other leg, allowing his teeth to scrape in a teasing little nip.

Mikael all but wriggled. “Dean, c’mon…”

Dean chuckled, looking up at him from around his cock. “Gotta let it settle in. I want it to
numb my throat without the risk of getting it on your dick. You don’t want a numb dick,
do you?”

No, no he didn’t, but he also knew that Dean was taking full advantage of the wait. There
was no stopping the man when he got that impish look on his face, and they both damn
well knew it. Once more, Dean’s tongue slid up the shaft, cleaning the clear drops of fluid
from the top, before he wrapped his lips around the head. This time, Mikael really did
wriggle as Dean sucked gently, letting his tongue run under the head, over the slit.

“Dean,” Mikael grunted, restraining himself as he always had to when he was in Dean’s
mouth. He didn’t hold back because he wanted Dean to control the act—it was because of
Dean’s gag reflex. The wait and control were agony for Mikael, and had been a source of
frustration for Dean before. He found himself hoping that the liquid in the bottle was their
solution.

Mikael felt himself slide further into Dean’s mouth. Little by little, the wet heat slipped
around his cock as Dean took his time easing Mikael into his mouth. There was a moment
of hesitation, but it was short-lived. Mikael’s mouth widened as he felt more and more of
his cock slide into Dean’s mouth, then into his throat. His lips opened and closed
soundlessly as the heat surrounded more of his cock.

Shit, he wished he could actually see this a lot more clearly, but it was so dark in the
room. Then again, if he saw the whole thing while feeling it, he would probably lose it
right there. The heat was so damn good around him, and it was wrapping tightly around
his sensitive head. He felt the slight brush of breath from Dean’s nose, then the press of
his face against his hips.

“Fuck,” he swore eloquently, fingers gripping tight into the sheets, feeling the whole of
him in Dean’s mouth and throat, and struggling to hold back. Dean’s erotically-charged
moan didn’t help, and Mikael had to fight his instinct to thrust upward. Dean was already
moving, more confident now that he had managed to get the whole thing into his mouth.

Mikael gasped as Dean slid back and then pushed forward, from tip to base all over again
in one motion. Whatever the hell was in that bottle was working like magic, and Dean
was picking up the pace already. Dean was doing his damned best to use every part of his
mouth and throat as he worked back and forth, not even bothering to tease anymore.
Mikael’s hands scrambled for the back of Dean’s head, fingers curling up as best they
could in the dark short hair as he realized that Dean was going for a quick finish.

At Mikael’s grip, Dean paused, and Mikael could feel rather than see the man’s eyes on
him. Dean gave a little movement, stopping short of actually doing anything. Mikael’s
brain was in a fog of pleasure and lust, and it took him a moment to realize what Dean
was after. Hesitant, wanting to be sure, Mikael pushed his hips up, sliding his cock into
the warm grip of the man’s mouth and throat. Immediately, he felt Dean tense, his body
pushing down with an instinctive twitch, Dean’s hips trying to grind down into the
mattress.

Damn, Mikael wasn’t going to last long like that, not if Dean was going to let him take
control, but he supposed that was the point. Making sure his hold was firm, he began to
move his hips in earnest. Grunting, he slid fully into Dean’s throat, pulling back only to
push himself back in. One of these days, he was going to have to test the full extent of the
numbing effects of the lotion, to see just how much power he could put into his thrusts.
For now, it was just difficult enough to keep himself steady as he slowly fucked Dean’s
mouth.

Dean gave a soft moan that rumbled across Mikael’s cock, fingers groping around until
they found Mikael’s hips and held on. It would have been worth losing it right then and
there, if he could see Dean’s face then, even if it was only his eyes turned up at Mikael’s
face. Dean was hardly making a sound, which, considering his position, wasn’t all that
surprising. He managed to express himself, though. His fingers dug into Mikael’s hips in
an earnest and desperate gesture, nails biting into the skin.

Now certain Dean could take it, Mikael put more effort into the upward strokes. His
fingers tightened in Dean’s hair, pulling him down even as he thrust up. He must have
been doing something right—Dean was all but shoving his hips against the bed, desperate
to get some friction to go with the stimulation of Mikael thrusting up into his mouth. Hell,
when that man got into something, he really got into it.

Although he wasn’t yet thrusting in earnest, being able to go at it the way they were was
enough to make his head spin. Them clung to each other as Mikael thrust up repeatedly,
the movements becoming more and more erratic. He was barely hanging on by a thread
of self-control. Even with Dean’s throat numbed, he would swear that his throat muscles
were working on every part of Mikael that pushed up into him.

“Dean,” he breathed, voice ragged and breathless as his body began to go taut. He tried to
warn Dean, and the other man responded by digging his fingers into Mikael’s hips even
harder than before. That extra bite of his nails was all the stimulation Mikael could stand.
He gave a shout, unable to contain it as his body slammed into orgasm. Dean moaned, the
rumble around his cock only adding to the feel of it as he came down Dean’s throat.

Dean’s head reared back, out of Mikael’s loosening grip. Dean’s mouth stopped at the
head of his cock, and he let out a groan that went straight to Mikael’s center. The
human’s hand slipped beneath him as he rutted against the bed. When Mikael’s body
finally slumped against the mattress, Dean released the head from his mouth. The noise
he made once it was free was needy and rough, the sound of a man just on the edge of
release and needing that final push.

Summoning his strength, Mikael dragged the man up to him. Dean twisted against the
hold, lost in the moment, trying to find his own release. Mikael shoved his hand between
them, wrapping his hand around Dean’s cock and stroking hard. Dean’s gasp of pleasure
was muffled as Mikael took his mouth with his own. Dean’s hips shoved against his hand,
and he felt the man go wire-tight, winding up one last time. When he shoved forward
again, he cried against Mikael’s mouth as his cock jumped in the werewolf’s hand,
splattering it and their stomachs.

Dean shook against him, still trying to thrust himself against Mikael’s hand even though
his muscles wouldn’t cooperate. When the tautness drained from him, he slumped, his
mouth slipping from Mikael’s own. His breath was ragged, his head sliding to rest
between Mikael’s neck and shoulder. Mikael let the man slip against his side to lie there
as if boneless.

“It… works,” Dean managed finally, his breath against Mikael’s neck. “Holy shit, I need
the recipe for whatever the hell that is. That’s way better than anything I’ve ever found at
a store. Shit.”

Mikael laughed. “Tried stuff like that before?”

Dean nodded, and Mikael felt the man’s smile against his shoulder. “Always had a terrible
gag reflex. Of course, I’ve tried it before. I have had big partners before you know—not
as big as you, but still. Nothing I’ve ever tried worked that well, or for as long. Either I
still couldn’t do it, or I couldn’t do it for long enough.”

“I’m pretty sure I lasted like, thirty seconds,” Mikael chuckled, not at all ashamed to
admit that. He might usually have good staying power, but he was still mortal. Mikael
was of the mind that no man could withstand the feel of another man wrapped around
them like that, especially with how damn excited Dean was about it.

Dean snorted. “And the stuff I’ve tried before lasted all of maybe ten seconds. Not very
impressive. My throat is still numb right now. Bet it won’t be in the morning, though.”

“Probably gonna have a sore throat after that,” Mikael agreed, squeezing the man’s
shoulders.

“So totally worth it,” Dean said, not in the least bit remorseful. “I’m going to have to
work out how to make that stuff, or get it in bulk.”

Mikael groaned at that. “Please don’t do that.”

Dean snickered against his neck, kissing it gently. “Pretty sure it’s not going to matter if I
do or don’t, Mikael. If your mom didn’t have a good idea of what we get up to in here,
she wouldn’t have left that stuff for us already.”

“Yeah, but she’ll give me that look of hers.”

“Get used to the look, Mikael. Something tells me you’re going to be getting it a lot.”

“Let’s keep it a secret,” he snorted, nuzzling the top of the smaller man’s head.

“Yeah, that’s not going to work, either. Aren’t you the one who told me you guys can
smell all sorts of things on other people? Won’t everyone be able to smell me on you
tomorrow?”
“Well, yeah, but we’re around each other a lot, so of course we smell like each other.”
Mikael shrugged.

“Okay, but pretty sure sex has its own smell.” Dean poked Mikael’s side, making him
jump. “Don’t be a brat.”

“I know,” Mikael sighed. “Everyone can smell it on us. And I like that, seriously. Kinda
built into us to like that mingling smell when it’s our mate and all. Just feels awkward
when I know my whole family can smell it on us.”

“Wait,” Dean pushed himself up enough to make eye contact with Mikael. “Does that
mean your dad can smell when we have sex?”

“Yeah, why?”

Even in the dim light, he could see the man’s smirk. “Because I’m sure that annoys the
hell out of him.”

Mikael groaned, giving the man a push so he was back to curling against him. “Now it’s
your turn to not be a brat. My dad might not like it much, but he’s not going to say
anything about it now that you’re trying to make it official that we’re mates. At least the
shared smell makes the claiming thing easier.”

“How so?”

“Well,” Mikael said, “think of it like this. If someone from another pack came around and
wanted to try to make a move on you, they technically could. You’re part of the pack, but
not at the same time, so by our laws, someone could try to make a claim. But that really
only counts for someone who isn’t marked, and since you are, they’d have a way harder
time of it.”

With how close Dean was to him, Mikael could feel the man raise a brow. “I’m
marked, huh?”

“Yes,” Mikael chuckled. “Don’t worry, there’s no peeing on your leg. Just being around
me all the time marks you quite a bit. Might be weird to you, but we give off our scent all
the time. Most of it washes off easily, I guess, except if you’re around someone all the
time, especially in high-emotion moments.”

“I’m guessing sex counts.”

“That really counts,” Mikael laughed softly, giving Dean’s head another nuzzle. “I can’t
smell it, but I bet after the past few months together, we’ll carry each other’s smell for a
long time.”

“Can’t wash it off, huh?”

Mikael frowned, his chest tightening a little in fear at that. “Not…without a lot of
washing and time…Why?”

Dean chuckled. “Because it just proves my point from earlier. Even if you somehow
managed to get rid of me now, you wouldn’t really be protecting me. Which also means
that your dad’s warning doesn’t mean anything. I’m already pretty much claimed, which
means any werewolf that comes around me is gonna smell you on me. Just by being
together like we have been, we’ve pretty much thrown that warning, and your impulse to
be a big noble ass, right out the window.”

Relief flooded him as he realized that Dean wasn’t really considering the idea of wiping
Mikael’s scent off of him. He knew that it might be a little weird to a human, thinking
that he had a smell on him that only a werewolf could detect. It was a smell that pretty
much marked him as belonging to Mikael and Mikael alone. He knew enough about
humans to know that sort of possession was a little strange, or even downright
unattractive. Then again, Dean wasn’t a normal human, and he seemed to be adjusting
well to their way of doing things.

“Just gonna roll with that and use it to your advantage, huh?” Mikael asked, not even
slightly annoyed by that.

“Well, that wasn’t really covered in the stuff I read, so I didn’t know the smell thing ran
that deep,” Dean admitted, his voice getting rougher with exhaustion. “But I’m not really
surprised either. You guys seem to operate on a totally human level for the most part, but
you’ve got a lot of feral instincts, too. I think it must be one hell of a ride to try to balance
out your instinctive reactions with your logical brain. Be worse than human emotion-
based reactions, I think.”

Mikael couldn’t say that he had thought of it quite like that. Obviously, being the one in
the pack with the most experience with the outside world, he knew how unalike their
species could be. He knew humans worked on an entirely different instinctual level than
werewolves, and relied more on reason than they did their gut most of the time. He’d
never really bothered to think too hard about how it might have seemed strange or
interesting to another. To Mikael, it simply was how things were, and that was all there
was to it.

He realized that Dean had already drifted off to sleep. The man’s slow breathing, soft
against his skin, was as soothing as the press of his body against his.

Dean had made some good points, and Mikael wasn’t really thinking about trying to get
rid of him again. He had already made up his mind to keep the man with him throughout
all of this, no matter what happened. The thought of what could happen to Dean in the
coming days still caused a tightness in his chest, but the urge to run or spirit Dean away
wouldn’t win out if he had a say in it.

Mikael settled down against Dean, nuzzling the top of his head, drifting into sleep to the
sound of the man’s gentle breathing.
The tension in the air around The Grove was so thick that Mikael was fairly certain he
could have bitten into it. No one was even trying to look like they were busy - they were
too anxious and tense for that. Some looked nervous, others simply looked hostile.
Nobody looked happy, save for the kids that were running about. Dean had excused
himself to go deal with the kids, seeming to have taken to them since he’d been tasked
with flower picking the day before.

Damian’s group had arrived earlier that morning, taking themselves straight to see
Mother and Father. They had been there all morning and well into the afternoon. That
Damien had not even stopped to socialize with the rest of the pack had been a slight slap
in the face. That they were taking so long to talk without a break was making everyone
tense. Finally, that Mikael had not been included in the discussions was grating on the
werewolf’s nerves, even more so because he had missed Damian’s arrival.

Dean was to blame for that, but who could fault the man for wanting to sleep in a little?
With everything that had happened, Dean was allowed what few moments he took to
lounge about. The fact that part of that lounging had been filled with some sleepy
groping, followed by some considerably less sleepy morning sex, was a nice bonus. By
the time they had risen, eaten, and cleaned up, the entourage had already begun the
meeting.

Dean’s solution to the subtle insults had been to allow Mikael’s glowering with some
small attempts to improve his mood. When that didn’t work, Dean had contented himself
with entertaining the children. The kids had, of course, picked up on the general mood of
things, but they were still children all the same. They had tried their best to keep
themselves still and quiet, but that hadn’t lasted very long. When the sounds of their play
started to disturb the uneasy crowd, Dean had all but shrugged and walked off to - as he
put it - keep an eye on them. Mikael spotted the man doing far more than simply watching
over the kids, if the pile of children atop him had been any indication.

Mikael wished that he could distract himself so well, but he had always been one to live
in his own head too much. Dean had apparently mastered the skill of setting his thoughts
to the back of his mind and focusing on whatever was in front of him. Actually, Dean
reminded him a bit of his mother in that regard. His father, while a decisive and strong-
willed man, was very much prone to the same obsessive thinking as his eldest. Mikael
cringed. There wasn’t really a great deal of comfort in the thought that there were striking
similarities between his relationship and the relationship that his parents had.

Humorously enough, Dean’s earlier attempts to distract Mikael from his thoughts hadn’t
worked, but watching him play with the children was working. Continuing the family
line, at least through the male members, was expected of him at some point. He’d never
gave it much thought apart from knowing it would eventually be his responsibility to
create the next heir. Watching Dean had him thinking about the idea in a far more
positive light than he had before. He wondered what it would be like to have a family
with that man.

It should have been a strange thought, considering they were neck-deep in trouble.
Trouble that very well could tear everything they knew to pieces and leave them with
nothing. Yet there he was, contemplating the future as if it were a guaranteed thing. He
wondered how Dean would feel about having kids, about raising them together. If
everything went well, they would have to eventually have that conversation. Dean had to
know that it was coming, that having children was something that Mikael wanted to do.
Mikael just wondered if it was something that Dean wanted to do, rather than something
he was resigned to.

A rise in the murmuring broke him from his thoughts. Damian and Mikael’s parents were
making their way outside. A glance at his father told him just how that meeting had gone.
The man bore every indication of being beyond pissed. Anger seemed to roll off of him.
Even his mother appeared angry, though hers came with an icy stiffness that Mikael had
rarely seen. Whatever had happened in there had been more than enough to rile up the
both of them.

Damian stood just off to the side of his parents, gazing around with the arrogant
expression Mikael had come to expect from the man. When they were younger, the other
werewolf had always looked as if he were a gift given unto the world, as if everyone
should have been grateful for his existence. The years had done nothing to improve that,
and even his body language screamed perfect, aggressive confidence. The years had also
improved his looks, with the arrogance sitting flawlessly on his square jaw and well-
formed features.

When Damian’s dark eyes found Mikael, the man only smirked, offering a small wag of
his fingers as a gesture of hello. Mikael smiled in return, though it felt more like a
grimace. Damian’s entourage - one man nearly as large as Damian’s considerable size,
and the other man barely coming up to their chests, both ignored the proceedings. With
hardly a motion from Damian, they followed him as he walked away through the curious
crowd.
Rather than watch them, and end up glaring at their backs, he glanced at his parents. They
were both looking at him, waiting for him. His father gave a jerk of his head, obviously
wanting Mikael to come to them. The motion was stiff and sharp, a further testament to
the anger that was probably building in him at that very moment.

“I’m guessing that it was everything we were afraid it would be?” Mikael asked once he
was safely within hearing of his parents, but out of earshot of everyone else. The people
were too busy watching what Damian and his groupies were up to, while also trying to
look like they weren’t watching. It worked about as well as it did any other time.

“He’s not even trying to sound reasonable,” his father snarled. “His ‘requests’ were
outrageous. No pack would agree to them. Might as well neuter whoever agrees to them.
They’re insulting, is what they are, and he damn well knows it.”

“Other packs have agreed to him, though,” Mikael pointed out. “Do you think he’s
offering different terms?”

His father snorted. “I would bet my front teeth on it. He’s going around and giving each
pack different offers, based only on how much he wants them on his side. Damian knows
we’re a threat, and one that can’t be bought. If I know the little shit, he’s going around
making perfectly reasonable requests to most of the packs he’s trying to buy to his side.
That way, when we—or any other pack for that matter—refuses, we look unreasonable. If
he really is making reasonable requests to others, any attempt to claim he’s being
unreasonable would simply look petulant and petty.”

“What did he want?”

“Whole chunks of our territory. A tithe on our resources, though he called it a gift. That,
and the pick of however many people of our pack that he wanted, to help ‘solidify
relations’. Bullshit, I call it. He’s simply trying to carve up everything that’s ours and take
the biggest pieces for himself. Even as a kid, he was like that. I don’t know why I
expected the adult to be any different. The offer of shared resources and a ‘strong
alliance’ came across as weak after that, particularly since it was obvious that he didn’t
really come to offer those things to us.”

Mikael wrinkled his nose. “Do I even want to know who he said he wanted?”
“I didn’t bother to ask. He wasn’t getting any of them, and he damn well knew it. It
wouldn’t matter if he wanted just workers, or warriors—he’s not getting them from us.
That little bastard is trying to take what he wants from us, just like he did from his family.
If he wants it, he knows damn well he’s going to have to fight us for it. He’s just trying to
turn everything in his favor so he can look good afterwards.”

Mikael stared at his mother, who was gazing back at him with that same icy stillness.
“And what do you think, Mother?”

His father’s brow rose, as if he had been startled by the question. His mother gave no
indication that she had even noticed her mate’s reaction. When she spoke, her voice was
as calm as ever, though it lacked the life it normally did, replaced by the same chill
in her eyes.

“Your father has the right of it. Damian plans to insult us while making himself seem
generous to those he wishes to deceive further. Damian has already caused enough of a
divide with this tactic already, but any pack who might aid us, and whom we may aid, are
too far away. If he begins this little war of his, it will be soon.”

“What makes you say that?”

Her gaze never wavered. “If he seeks to separate us from the rest of the packs, he would
need to go to them first, build up a good reputation, then come to us and bring us down in
the opinions of all the other packs. His coming is a sign that he is ready to begin his end
game. Though it is telling that he came here himself, rather than simply sending a
respected member of his pack, as would have been proper. And that he chose to bring his
Shaman.”

“Wait, he did? Which one was that?” Mikael hadn’t seen or smelled anything that would
have told him either of the other two men were anything but normal werewolves.

“Yes, he did. The shortest of the three. I believe that Damian came here himself, along
with that man, to personally scout out our resources. Having someone else do your work
for you, even someone you trust, is all well and good. But Damian is a greedy man as
much as an ambitious one. He has always envied us, and he brought the Shaman so the
man could begin to slowly claim this ancient place for himself in his mind.”
“Fine, he brought the Shaman so the man can see what he thinks he’ll be working with,”
Mikael said, “but why bother coming here himself? It’s not as if he doesn’t have a list of
whatever we have, or what he thinks we have.”

The skin around his mother’s eyes tightened slightly. “Probably because he is here to see
those things personally. Or, perhaps, I should say those people.”

Something about her tone and the new intensity of her voice made him turn around.
Frowning, he searched through the collection of people for Damian, for surely that was
who his mother was glaring at. Behind the pockets of people, he saw Damian, standing by
himself for the moment—the two werewolves with him were a handful of feet away—
peering into the woods. But someone moved out of Mikael’s way, and he saw the familiar
figure of Dean standing near Damian. They were talking.

“Son of a bitch,” he growled, the noise beginning low in his chest and rumbling up to this
throat.

“Mikael,” his father began in warning, reaching a large hand out to grip Mikael’s upper
arm, “do not -”

Mikael wrenched his arm from his father’s grasp with a low snarl.

Before his father could recover from the shock of his son’s aggression, Mikael pulled out
of reach and started toward the two. Damian looked as cocky and sure of himself as ever,
his body language screaming his intent. Even Dean had to see exactly what the man was
angling after, and once Mikael was close enough, he could see for certain that Dean was
aware of the other man’s intentions. When their voices reached his ears, he heard the
attempt at smoothness and seduction in Damian’s voice. Dean’s was perfectly friendly,
but there was tension rippling through the man’s body, slowly growing the longer they
spoke.

When Damian reached out toward Dean, Mikael almost flew at the man. That was his
mate, not Damian’s, and that asshole had no right to touch him. Not even when his father
had seriously hurt, or perhaps even killed Dean during that fight, had Mikael known the
wolf inside him to grow so powerful. It felt as if it were tearing at his chest, pumping
through his veins, desperate to get out and tear the man’s throat out. The overwhelming
sense of primal rage and possession was jarring, and he could feel his body’s desire to
change right then and there.
Dean, however, stepped back with a controlled but sharp motion. His eyes seemed to
darken further even in the light of the nearly cloudless day. Mikael knew what that look
meant. His father had once hesitated at that very same expression, and the sheer force that
it exuded, and Damian was no different. It was a small movement, but Mikael’s hyper
alert state caught the subtle lean away from the human, the jerk in Damian’s shoulders
that signaled a stifled attempt to step back.

It was only when he reached them that he realized he hadn’t heard a word that either men
had been saying, though he should have been able to hear them clearly. The blood
pumping in his head had been so loud that he had heard nothing but that—and the sound
of the beast inside of him demanding to be let out. It must have shown on his face,
because when the two turned to him, Dean’s brow furrowed suddenly, and Damian took
what was probably supposed to be a respectful step away from Dean.

“Afternoon, Mikael,” Damian said as smoothly as he could manage. The man’s voice was
grating to Mikael’s nerves. His eyes tracked Mikael as he moved up beside and slightly in
front of Dean. “I have to congratulate you on your choice of… mate.”

The growl started again in his throat at the way the man said that. “Yes, perhaps you’ll be
lucky one day and find your own.”

Damian cocked his head. “We can only hope. I’m sure there’s one out there just for me,
waiting to be plucked.”

Even knowing the man was intentionally goading him, he bristled. “Maybe you should
keep your fingers away from what isn’t yours? Plucking the wrong fruit sounds like a
good way to lose a hand, and other things.”

Damian’s smile widened. “True. Maybe I should just wait until the fruit falls free from
the tree? It’s bound to happen sooner or later. Then it’s up for grabs, right?”

The man just wouldn’t stop, and he was just standing there, smirking at them, waiting for
Mikael to do something about it. He was practically demanding a reaction from Mikael
with that disgusting look on his face, not so subtly talking about taking Dean from him.
Consequences be damned, Mikael tensed to step forward, ready to go straight for the
man’s throat. Before he could even really imagine the color of the man’s blood, Dean’s
arm shot out, sliding across Mikael’s stomach and gripping him firmly.
“Maybe you should be thinking less about trying to touch what isn’t yours, what doesn’t
even want you to touch it,” Dean began, his voice tight but even, “and more about the
orchard you’re trying to steal from. Don’t be childish. Act like the respectable Alpha
you’re supposed to be, not some mongrel off the streets.”

Mikael didn’t know what really calmed him - Dean’s hand on his stomach, the blunt
rebuke in Dean’s words, or the barely-repressed look of rage on Damian’s face. The alpha
stiffened, the humor draining like running water from his face as he squared his
shoulders. He hadn’t expected some human, one who wasn’t even a full member of the
pack, to say much, least of all that to him.

“Perhaps there is some fruit,” Damian said, his voice shaking, “that is far too sour to eat.
Better to let it lie on the ground and rot.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean snorted. “And if you ever try to touch me again without my
permission, I’ll take care of your family planning for you.”

“Or I’ll just kill you myself,” Mikael growled, still feeling the anger boiling in his chest
and head. His voice sound rough, almost guttural to his own ears.

Damian’s hard gaze moved to Mikael. “Was that a threat? Toward a friendly alpha?”

“You’re about as friendly as a scorpion, Damian. You forget I know you too well. I know
what kind of games you play. You and I both know I don’t threaten - that’s you, even if
it’s in a backwards, roundabout way. But we also know that if you touch another Were’s
mate, you’re gonna get your throat torn out.”

Damian’s lip twitched. “Mate? I used the term as a courtesy. We both know he’s not your
mate. He’s not even a member of this pack. For all intents and purposes, he is nothing
more than a human who hangs about the edges of your pack. It isn’t poaching.”

“Oh, look,” Dean sighed, bringing his hand to rest on Mikael’s arm, “you are capable of
speaking directly. And here I thought you could only speak in innuendo.”

Damian’s gaze turned to Dean. “Are you sure, little human, that you don’t have a little of
our blood in you?”
“I’m pretty sure. You’re not smelling Were on me because I’m part Were. You’re
smelling Were because I happen to be mated to one. We both know I probably smell as
much like him as I do myself. Which makes it poaching - which, for the record, is a
disgusting way of putting it.”

Damian stared at Dean for a moment, then turned away with a throaty, quiet laugh. “Well,
you’re certainly as direct as our kind like to be. And forceful, too. I bet you’re all sorts
of fun.”

Mikael snorted, his arm finally finding and resting on Dean’s lower back. The touch was
enough to ease the tension in Dean’s gripping hand. And as Dean relaxed, Mikael’s stress
level went down. Somehow, the realization that Dean was relaxing under his touch was
enough to soothe his frazzled nerves. It helped that he no longer had a hand free to
throttle Damian, that was enough to tell his mind that the need for aggression was long
gone.

“That’s one way of putting it,” he replied, voice almost normal once more.

“I would almost swear you were one of our own,” the other werewolf chuckled. Mikael
disliked the man who appeared amused more than cocky. “A pity you cannot bear children
together. I’m quite sure they would be hell on wheels. Though I’m sure that fire is good
for other things, too.”

Mikael wrinkled his nose at that. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Damian? Or did you
just come here to try to make insulting deals and try to hit on someone who isn’t
interested?”

Damian spread his hands in a gesture of utter innocence. “My apologies if I’ve offended.
I see my attempts to woo your man were doomed from the start. But honestly, Mikael,
can you blame me?”

“Yes,” both Dean and Mikael answered in the same dry tone.

Damian shrugged, not at all apologetic. “Well, I won’t. In any case, I will leave the two
of you be, as I must see to my quarters.”
“You’re staying?” Dean asked. Mikael was a little surprised at the just-right hint of
politeness in his voice.

“Of course.” Damian motioning to his two men. “I am here to discuss matters that would
benefit both of our packs. It would be rude of me to leave before anything has been
settled, after all.”

Mikael didn’t like that idea too much, but he definitely didn’t like the sight of Damian’s
Shaman staring a little too long at Dean before they finally left. There was something
about the man’s expression that set Mikael on edge. The man had an expression that was
oddly unreadable, especially for a werewolf who could usually see the slightest changes
of expression. His face was a veritable mask that gave nothing away. Mikael would swear
there was a lingering glint in the man’s eyes, and he wondered what Damian’s pet
Shaman had been thinking before he had finally followed his alpha.

“You really weren’t kidding about that guy being a total ass,” Dean murmured as he
stared after where they had disappeared. The tension was slowly making its way out of
the man’s body and he leaned more heavily against Mikael.

“No,” Mikael sighed, thinking how much trouble they were all in at this moment. “I
really wasn’t. Damian has always been conniving, and I don’t think age has changed that
in the slightest. Everything he does, he tends to do with a plan in mind, and that plan
always benefits him above anyone else.”

“What do you think he’s up to?” Dean asked.

Mikael glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one was close. His parents were slowly
advancing toward them. Mikael had forgotten that he’d left them so abruptly after seeing
Damian near Dean. Oddly, the chilly tension in his mother was gone, and even his father
seemed calmer. They were taking their time, and though Mikael knew they could hear, he
turned to Dean and explained what he had learned about the meeting.

“Makes sense,” Dean said grimly. “If you’re going to be underhanded about taking over,
that’s the way to go.”

“You sound like you respect him,” Samuel growled as he moved the extra few feet
toward them.
Dean huffed. “Samuel, could you please stop trying to find any reason to jump down my
throat about something? We’re supposed to be working together here, whether I’m in this
pack or not, I’m still tied to it, okay? And I don’t respect him. He’s lowlife scum with
more greedy ambition than sense probably. Doesn’t mean I don’t respect the ruthless
effectiveness of what he’s doing. The minute you stop respecting your opponent is the
minute you lose.”

Samuel stared at him for a moment, his knitted brow quirking slightly. Mikael cut in
before his father could say anything. “So, he’s going to be staying here, then?”

His dad grunted, “Yes. Since he wishes to continue those jokes he insists are actual
discussions, I’m obligated to keep him here under the best hospitality. I would rather tear
his throat out, but that’s not an option. I attack him here, and I might as well just stamp a
target on this place for every flea-bitten Were within miles. We have to go with his
little plan.”

“Is he just staying here to toy with us?” Dean asked.

Mikael shrugged. “Could be, but probably not. When he toys with people for fun, it’s
usually over smaller stuff, but even then, it’s got a purpose. Trying to make a move on
you was doomed to fail, but I’m sure he was hoping I would attack him and give him an
excuse to order a retaliation. He was probably betting I wouldn’t, but the idea of screwing
with us amused him. And if I did? He’d still win. So, if he’s willing to stay in the pack’s
territory, then he has something in mind, guaranteed.”

Dean went quiet as he mulled that over, obviously wracking his brain for any and all
possibilities. Mikael could almost see the various possibilities pouring into the man’s
mind, slowly being set aside for later or outright dismissed. Dean didn’t often go full-
blown analytical, only when he had a puzzle to solve.

“Speaking of…” Samuel began, narrowing his eyes on Mikael. “Since when do you rush
off to pick a fight? Despite your hardheadedness, you have never charged into a fight
before.”

Mikael couldn’t help but laugh. “Really? And what would you have done if it had been
Mom? You telling me you would have willingly let him lay his hands all over her?”
“Your mother can handle herself.” The faint tone of accusation was there.

“Yeah, she can, but that wouldn’t have stopped you from charging over there and
breaking off his hand and stuffing it down his throat, either,” Mikael scoffed, ignoring the
wrinkle of disgust from Dean at the imagery.

“Nice, thanks, babe,” Dean huffed. “If you two are done comparing who’s protective
enough, or who’s too protective…?”

Both Mikael and his father jerked their heads to glare at Dean, who started.

“Shit. Do you two realize how much you look alike when you do that? Holy hell, that’s
creepy. Don’t do that again.”

His father seemed just as affronted by that as Mikael was, and Dean cringed even deeper.

“Jeez, is it only when you guys are upset about something? Stop, please, I’m begging
you. I don’t want to think about…Just stop.”

Mikael’s mother snorted, covering her mouth with a hand and looking anywhere but at
the three men. His father sighed at the sound, the look of exasperation on his face marred
by an affectionate edge. For a moment, his father managed to look younger than his forty-
seven years. Dean only grimaced again, seeming to mentally throw up his hands at them.

“We even going to bother trying to figure out what he’s up to?” he asked.

Mikael pulled the man in, kissing the top of his head. “Don’t know, but we’re bound to
figure it out, one way or another.”

“It’s not going to be good,” Dean stated the obvious.

“No, but we’ll be ready, somehow,” Mikael assured him, privately hoping it was true, but
also thinking about how isolated his cabin was. Somehow, that was starting to seem like a
really bad idea.
When Mikael awoke, it was to the confusing sounds of utter chaos. He was up out of the
bed before he even knew what was happening, only that his room was brighter than it
should have been for that time of night. His brain lurched into action. He felt as if
someone had turned the volume up without warning. Cries and a snarl jolted through his
senses, coming from outside. A nearby cabin was on fire, the light of the flames bathing
Mikael’s bedroom in the worst sort of light.

Dean was already up, looking out the window. The fire lit the man’s face, and Mikael
could see his fear and then his anger. Both of them jumped at a sudden crash, which was
followed by a few howls from somewhere on the other side of The Grove.

“That son of a bitch,” Dean muttered, turning to look at Mikael with helpless horror.
“That’s what he was doing - keeping our attention on him so his followers could sneak up
on The Grove.”

Grunting, Mikael dropped down and drug a heavy box out from under the bed. The plan
fit Damian perfectly. Even though Damian had only brought two others with him,
Mikael’s father would have pulled people from the outside in, weakening their defenses.
As long as Damian walked their territory, his father would have wanted the man
followed. That took extra manpower. And that was obviously all Damian had needed.

In the eerie light of the fire, the sword Mikael yanked from the box shone, the light
dancing off the blade. Along the edges of the blade were etched runes of a language he
couldn’t begin to read. It wasn’t an overly large blade, just slightly longer than a short
sword. Mikael had used it when he was young and learning how to fight as a human and
as a wolf at his father’s insistence. It wasn’t much of a weapon for him now, but he had
kept it all the same since it was a family heirloom.

Dean, who had been dressing while Mikael rummaged, eyed the sword curiously.
Another crash cut off whatever he started to say. The noise sounded closer than before.
Whatever battle was going on out there, it wasn’t proving to be an easy fight for
someone. Mikael prayed that his pack, despite their surprise, was giving as good as they
got. If his father was still alive, hopefully he was rallying the pack to fight back in the
best way possible.
“Take this,” Mikael said, spinning the sword, careful to keep his fingers away from the
blade. He pointed the handle and pommel towards Dean. “The blade is pure silver. I
know we didn’t really get a chance to teach you much before, but…this will be better
than nothing. With this, even an untrained swordsman would cause a full-grown
werewolf to pause.”

Dean took it hesitantly, obviously trying to block out the sounds of chaos outside. “Is
silver really a good thing to make a weapon out of? I swear I remember hearing that it’s
not really what you would call a tough metal.”

“Won’t beat steel, and stabbing it into a human body would probably ruin the blade,”
Mikael admitted, “but that thing will cut through a werewolf without a problem. The
whole hot knife and butter analogy works really great here.”

Dean winced at that, and Mikael could see the man’s worry and fear. Fear for their lives,
fear for how the battle would end, and fear that, maybe, he would have to take a life by
the end of the night. If Mikael had a say in any of those things, they would all be okay,
and Dean would never have to worry about blood on his hands. But he wasn’t going to
leave the man unarmed while all of this was going on, and he would rather Dean had to
deal with the repercussions of taking a life than be dead.

“Where are we going?” Dean asked, and Mikael felt an ache in his chest at the sound of
the man trying to hold back the tremor in his voice.

“You,” he said, “are not going anywhere. You need to stay here.”

He wasn’t at all surprised to see Dean swell up in indignant anger, his hold tightening on
the sword. If there was one thing that Mikael knew, it was that allowing the other man to
get a steam worked up would be the least helpful thing for either of them. Dean was
obviously scared and confused, and arguing with Mikael would do nothing but fuel his
anger and make the night so much harder than it already was. Mikael crossed the distance
between them, gripping each of Dean’s shoulders in his hands, looking down into his
shadowy face. He could feel the man’s tension, tight and fierce in his shoulders.

“You have never been in a real fight before, Dean,” Mikael explained patiently, desperate
to explain to the man while ignoring the sounds of the battle that seemed to grow with
every word. “You’ve never had to take on multiple werewolves, had to deal with an
attacking pack. You don’t even know how to use that sword correctly.”

“I can defend myself, Mikael,” Dean replied hotly, already trying to wrench free of
Mikael’s grip. “I don’t want you out there by yourself,”

“No, you can’t. You going out there, trying to hold your own when you don’t know what
you’re doing, is just going to put you in danger. And all I’m going to want to do is keep
an eye on you and protect you. I can’t fight them off and keep an eye on you, Dean. I
can’t.”

“Mikael,” Dean protested, already beginning to deflate, “what about me? You think I
want to be stuck in here while you’re out there fighting?”

“If you’re in here, you have an advantage over them. Wolves don’t do that great in tight
spaces.” Mikael explained quickly, his words hurried. “Especially big wolves. You can
hole up in here, and I can do what I need to do, okay? I’m a way better fighter than you
think. I’m my father’s son, after all.”

Dean was still fighting the idea, his mouth twisting up into an ugly shape as he tried to
find the argument that would smash Mikael’s to pieces. They both knew that Mikael was
right though, and he could see Dean’s frustration at being so helpless. Hell, he was
probably thinking of all the people and things he’d lost throughout his life, other times
when he’d been powerless. This night wasn’t going to be one of those moments. If Dean
was safe in the house, then Mikael could fight as fiercely as ever for his home and family,
knowing Dean was waiting for him.

He pulled Dean in close to him, feeling him shift the sword away from his body. “Hey.
You’ve done so goddamn much for us… for me. Let me be the one who does this, okay?
I can do this. I know I can. I need you to trust me.”

“I trust you,” Dean’s muffled voice came from his chest. The sound of the man’s voice
nearly broke Mikael’s heart. It was both fragile and earnest, a man teetering on the edge
of something, but clinging desperately to the last lifeline thrown to him. Dean accepted
what Mikael was saying, though his heart broke to do it. He had thrown himself into the
mess again, but this time, he wouldn’t be able to do much more than rely on someone else
to help drag them out of it.

“I’ve got a bad history of not sticking around,” Mikael admitted freely, pulling back to
look down at Dean. “But I’ll be damned if I’m going to run away again, and dying
includes running away, okay? It’s my turn to fight for us, okay?”

Dean nodded, a bittersweet expression on his face. “You know I never doubted you,
right? Okay, that’s a lie. I did. But not enough to give up. Stop carrying that with you.”

Mikael grimaced. “Eventually, maybe.”

Dean swatted Mikael’s chest. “Soon. Now, get out of here before I change my mind and
do the stupid thing.”

Mikael bent forward, catching the man’s mouth with his own for a brief but sweet kiss. “I
love you, too.”

Dean’s smile wobbled a little. “Change first, and I’ll let you out.”

Mikael nodded, knowing the man was trying to end the moment and get on with what
they had to do. If there was something to be said about Dean, it was that when he made
up his mind to do something, he did it. Sweet and loving as he could be, when he was
ready to get things underway, those emotions were shoved out of the way so logic could
take over. Dean’s body was stiff with emotion, but his self-control was locking down and
reeling him back. Mikael sometimes wondered if that trait would make Dean a great
werewolf, or a terrible one.

The sounds and smells of his home fighting and burning ignited the beast within. As
always, the wolf inside sung with pleasure at being given freedom, to be able to have all
fours on the earth once more. The sound came from Mikael in a guttural cry of aggression
and joy, even as the pain shot through his body. There was a price to pay for this ability,
and it was the brief but sharp pain of his body morphing and shifting beneath his skin. He
gladly paid the price each time.

His body hunched against itself, the pain growing as he shoved the transformation
through him, rushing it for the sake of getting out there and fighting for his home. Pain
lanced his fingers and mouth, the former shrinking to claw-tipped paws, the latter
stretching, deadly fangs sprouting from an elongated muzzle. A sudden bout of itching
overcame his body as the fur sprouted, and his paws hit the floor as the transformation
took him.
Then the animal crept into his mind as the body shifted at last into the massive wolf that
lived at his heart. Shaking himself, he felt the wolf shudder in his mind, felt it settle
comfortably into his soul. It could smell the fire, smell the pain and blood. It knew that its
kin were in danger, that they were suffering, and that he had to be out there. It wanted to
tear out the throats of every last living thing that wasn’t its own.

“Mikael?” Dean sounded concerned, a first for the man. Any other time Dean had seen
him transform, it had been first with an amazed and a minutely disturbed fascination that
had eventually turned into acceptance. Now concern laced his voice, and it brought
Mikael’s lips up in a grimace of anger, a growl that rumbled up from his throat and
vibrated down to his paw pads. He turned to Dean, moving slowly toward him and
sniffing deeply.

Dean’s body tensed at his approach, and the human part of Mikael’s mind realized that he
was scaring Dean. The wolf was so angry, seething with hatred and violence, and that
emotion radiated from him. That rage made Dean very aware of the monster that he was
trapped with, and it showed. The wolf however, was made more agitated by Dean’ tension,
desperate to find the threat, desperate to tear it apart. Its mate was in danger, and it needed
to kill whatever threatened them.

“Hey.” Dean’s voice shook a little, and with a boldness Mikael knew the man wasn’t
truly feeling, he reached out. His hand landed in the thick fur of Mikael’s neck, and he
bent forward enough that his face looked directly into Mikael’s. “You stay focused out
there, okay? Don’t go crazy, keep your head in the game, or we’re all screwed, got it? If I
see you acting stupid, I’m going to come out swinging. You keep that in mind while
you’re out there trying to be Rambo.”

Mikael huffed his understanding, turning his head so he could run his tongue across
Dean’s chin. The man sputtered, wiping at his face and glowering at the wolf. Before he
could say a thing, a deep howl echoed through the air, startling them both upright. The
cry was long and filled with rage and demand. A call to arms.

“That was Samuel,” Dean said, awe and fear lacing his words. “You have to hurry,
c’mon.”

In a decidedly frustrated gesture, Dean stomped across the house to the front door. As
Mikael neared, he opened it. Mikael would have almost laughed as Dean purposefully
opened the door so that he remained concealed behind it. Apparently, the man didn’t trust
himself to stay in the house if he saw whatever was going on outside. Mikael allowed
himself a final look at Dean before he tore out of the house and into the madness.
Madness, it was. The smell of blood and smoke filling his nose were worse than before.
He couldn’t begin to say where everyone was, but he hoped those who could not fight had
managed to get away. Even as he thought it, he glimpsed a set of small faces peering out
from one of the nearby cabins. The kids were safe, locked up in the house, though he did
not know if anyone was with them. He hoped that someone was keeping an eye on them,
and that the group would make a break for the woods whenever it was possible.

The fires were not as bad as he had feared. Only a small handful of the buildings were
aflame, though one of them was the main building. The old building that had housed the
Alphas of the pack for a handful of generations was almost entirely burned. His father’s
howl meant that his parents, or at least his dad, had made it out safe. The noises of the
fight were echoing from behind the building.

A snarl caught his attention, and he whipped his head up just in time for a large body to
slam into him. His own fierce snarl ripped from him as he landed, letting the momentum
take him away from the snapping jaws that sought to catch him. He rolled, pushing to his
feet in an instant, facing the attacker, who lunged the moment he or she recovered. Giving
a little jump, he moved to the side and shoved forward, slamming his shoulder into the
other wolf’s tender side.

The enemy wolf was taken off guard too quickly by the ferocity and precision of Mikael’s
attack, flopping onto the ground gracelessly. Before the wolf could scrabble its legs to
find purchase, Mikael was on him. The taste of blood filled his mouth as his teeth sank
into the soft throat. Muscles worked against his mouth, but it was over with a powerful
sideways wrench of his head.

There was no need to check if the wolf was dead. If it wasn’t, it would be very soon.
Instead, Mikael twisted from the body, dashing toward where he had last heard his
father’s cry. Bodies lay about the place, some he recognized, and some he did not. Many
of the ones he knew did not even show signs of a battle, just the wounds that had slain
them. They had been cut down where they had stood or even while running from a threat,
some had been attacked from behind, not even allowed to turn to meet their enemy. Yet
there were plenty of bodies of the wolves who had attacked, as well—strangers. His was
not a pack that went quietly into the night when enemies attacked, even if it was from the
shadows.

The sight of others caught his attention, a spinning group of wolves, still fighting fiercely
for their respective sides. A howl tore from him, as powerful as the one his father sent
into the air only minutes before. The wolves tensed, the enemy jerking as they felt the
arrival
of another. Mikael’s pack members rushed them, and the sounds of death and pain filled
the air once more. The enemy fell, some with a wolf around their throat, others with one
on a wounded leg. It didn’t matter. As Mikael trotted up, he saw each of them finished.

Katarina approached from his flank suddenly, her beautiful fur matted with blood—
enough blood that Mikael did not know if it was hers or not. He whined at her, pawing
the ground, and she replied with shuffling feet and a low growl. She was fine, not that he
should have been surprised. In all honesty, he was surprised that she was not still in the
thick of things. Though from the sight of her, she had seen her fair share of the fight
already, and he wondered if perhaps she had been responsible for several of the bodies he
had seen along the way.

Two other wolves approached, bowing down low and panting. Both were injured, but not
badly enough to not put them out of commission. The sounds of the fight echoed from
around the main house, which still burned fiercely. Tipping his head back, Mikael let
loose another howl, another cry-to-arms. Katarina and his pack members all threw their
heads back and echoed the cry, bodies tensing as they anticipated his charge.

Which he did, his paws digging into the earth and spurring him around the house. He
didn’t even need to check behind him to know that the other three were close, as eager as
he was to finish it. The worst of the fighting was coming into view as they dashed
forward. Less than half a dozen of his pack, including his mother and father, stood against
the attackers. Considering how many bodies he had seen, he knew there had to be others
of both sides still alive and around, but the worst of the fighting had been in the main
house.

There were a lot of bodies lying about in the grass, and most of them were Damian’s
wolves. His pack had been outnumbered from the start, but they had not been outgunned.
That was why Damian had wanted their pack, or wanted them dead. Even with all of his
trickery and underhanded techniques, they had still been hard-pressed to find any small
measure of victory.

But they were outnumbered, still—Mikael could see that in an instant. His father, his
lustrous black coat shimmering in the flames, was barely standing. His back haunches
wavered, even as he eyed the massive gray wolf that was Damian. Someone had torn at
his legs, and even with his mother’s light brown form beside him, it was easy to see just
how the fight would end if it was allowed to continue.

Their howls caught the attention of all, ears pricking and tails flicking in a sudden rise of
tension. Damian turned just as Mikael and his three companions charged into the mess of
things, sending the scene back into turmoil. Hell, putting Katarina in the mix was enough
of a thorn in their side, which was why Mikael wondered why she wasn’t one of the first
targeted. It also made him wonder why he hadn’t been targeted, as the heir of the pack.

His big shoulder plowed another wolf away from him. Let the others take care of the
rabble, he thought. His mission was to drive straight through to Damian. The man was at
the head of the assault. He was the reason it had all happened. Everything came down to
him, and Mikael wanted him dead. That his death would signal the end of the fight would
be a wonderful bonus, but the fact that he would finally get the chance to put the asshole
down was even better.

For a moment, Damian hesitated, waiting to see if Mikael would be able to break the line
of enemy wolves to reach him. He obviously wanted to finish Samuel and Matalina, but
their son was having none of it. When it became apparent that Mikael’s mad dash through
the pitched fight would work, Damian spun to face him with a snarl. Mikael’s charge
never faltered for a second as he barreled into the wolf. They were about the same size
and weight, but Mikael’s charge had given him enough power to send the other wolf
stumbling over the dew-soaked grass.

Their teeth flashed and slammed together, neither ensnaring the other. Damian’s teeth
sliced his lips as they shoved against one another again, both trying to overwhelm the
other with their sheer strength. Damian, frustrated with the deviation from his plans, grew
even more ferocious in his attack, doubling his efforts. Mikael, fueled by the destruction
of so much of his home, the loss of so many pack members, and the thought of all that
was still threatened, crashed back into him.

They rolled, thrashing and snapping at the other, trying to catch any part of the other that
they could get. Claws and fangs clipped at one another, their breath hot and mingled, their
panting hard between growls. The battle continued around the two as they crashed and
snapped, neither besting the other.

Damian’s jaws finally closed around a paw, and Mikael’s yelp turned quickly to another
snarl. Before Damian could do anything with the limb in his mouth, Mikael’s jaws
snapped forward, catching the wolf’s ear and ripping his head sideways. Mikael’s paw lit
with pain as Damian jerked his head backward, leaving whole chunks of his ear in
Mikael’s mouth. Blood poured from both wounds, but Mikael was quicker to recover,
charging forward once more, ignoring the pain of his foot.

The other wolf, eyes widened, rolled to the side and out of the way. His feet scrambled
desperately as he avoided the next swift snap from Mikael, now going on the defense.
With a ferocity that he had never felt before, Mikael advanced. His teeth nipped and
caught at parts of Damian, bringing startled yips and growls from the dark wolf. For
every lunge Mikael made, Damian backpedaled, desperate to get out of range.

Then Mikael saw it, as Damian backed further and further from the fight, giving only
little snaps to keep Mikael back. The wolf’s body bunched and readied, and with a final
snap, Damian twisted, back legs shoving hard against the ground for purchase. The
werewolf was attempting to make a break for the nearby woods, away from the
fight and his own men.

It was this final act of cowardice that inflamed Mikael, the sudden burst of hatred so
strong he was almost blind with it. With a snarl that seemed to come from the darkest
parts of his soul, he leaped forward with more speed and power than he’d ever thought
possible. His teeth sank hard into the tough flesh of Damian’s back leg, fangs tearing
through blood vessels and muscle. The noise Damian made was more a shriek than a
howl. He slammed into the ground, thrashing about as blood poured from his fresh
wound.

Mikael worried the leg for a moment before releasing it. Damian’s panic-filled eyes met
his as Mikael stood over the werewolf that had been the cause of so much destruction.
Mikael’s teeth dripped with the wolf’s blood, and he was keen on painting them more.
The rage thrummed in him, making him eager to claim the man’s throat.

Others were beside him suddenly, their footfalls alerting him. His mother’s almost soft
shape slipped past, and with a strength hidden by her size, she placed a foot to Damian’s
throat and held him there. Serenely, she eyed him, positioning herself between Mikael
and the injured werewolf. Mikael would no more attack his mother than he would Dean,
but it didn’t stop him from pawing at the ground and growling at her. Still, she stood her
ground, watching as her eldest worked his frustration out through a series of growls and
foot- stomping.

She lowered her head to show her teeth, but made no other movement, nor any sound. His
mother wanted Damian alive. The rational part of Mikael’s mind stirred to life at that,
curiosity sparking. It was hard for him to process exactly why she would want the lowlife
son of a bitch alive. Damian should die, have his life’s blood spread across the soil and
their victory apparent for all to see. Every part of him cried out for it, but the steady look
from his mother’s gaze kept him in check.

Seeing it, she cocked her head, perking her ears and nodding slowly. Mikael stepped back
and turned away from her, sensing that she relaxed as he calmed. It wasn’t as if Damian
was much of a threat at the moment, anyway. His mother might not have appeared very
ferocious, but she was quick, and more precise than he would ever be. If the werewolf
made a wrong move, he would be even more injured than before, or even dead.

Mikael eyed each surviving wolf of his pack. Most of them were bleeding from more than
a few wounds. Even Katarina had taken her own wounds in the fight, if the careful way
she held her front paw was any indication. One of their own had fallen in the last
skirmish, and Mikael saw her unmoving body a little way from the others.

Despite the ambush, despite the odds against their victory, they had won. There was death
on both sides, and they would mourn for their own. Yet they had not lost to Damian’s
schemes, and the deceiver’s plans were nothing before their strength and their unity. They
had come out on top, as they always had, as they always would.

His victory howl rang alone for a moment, strong and clear. Then Katarina’s voice joined
his own, melding with it as others began to pick it up as well. The distant howls of his
pack members came from all around them. His voice rose once more, carrying the song
across the whole of The Grove. His mother’s voice picked up the howling tune, and then
even his father’s voice sang out.

For any and all to hear, they sang of their victory.

His father was sitting, leaning against a sturdy tree as his mother tended to his wounds.
The older man looked oddly pleased, but still managed to look surly all the same, though
Mikael chalked that up to his bleeding wound more than anything else. He knew his
father was more than pleased with the way everything had gone, losses notwithstanding.
They were werewolves, and losses happened in times of battle and war. Yet even Mikael
had to admit more than a small measure of pride in his pack for how they had handled
themselves.

“So, since I slept through most of it,” Mikael finally said, still feeling edgy, “wanna tell
me what I missed?”

His father frowned at him. “What were you doing anyway?”

Mikael crossed his arms across his chest. “Making sure my mate was safe.”

The older man shifted, and Mikael saw his mother glance up at his father. He couldn’t see
the look on her face, but he knew that something was passing between the two of them.
Some silent communication ensued, and Mikael couldn’t begin to guess what the end
result was. His parents had been around each other so long that their communication
happened smoothly and almost automatically. The silent conversation was quick and
seamless, and Mikael could only wait until it had passed before he was permitted to
continue.

“So?”

His father grunted slightly, abandoning his own question. “They came in the night. They
started a few fires in the outer homes, which drew all our attention. When we tried to put
them out, they attacked the ones who were trying to help.”

“There were a lot of fires if they were only diversions,” Mikael noted, glancing around at
the burned homes.
“Yes,” his father replied through gritted teeth. “They used the distraction of the fire and
the fights to add more fire to the mix on the other side of The Grove. It threw everyone
into chaos. People were trying to figure out if they were supposed to save others from the
flames, or fight. It cost a lot of people their lives.”

Mikael nodded toward the main house, which was still burning. “And that?”

Samuel sneered. “When the chaos was at its worst, they set fire to the main house.
Everything was madness, and I was having…difficulty rallying everyone. Just as I started
to succeed, Damian’s people managed to set fire to it. That created another wave of panic.
The only good thing is that seeing the oldest building in The Grove burn also sent some
of our own into such a frenzy that it backfired on Damian’s people.”

The Grove’s people weren’t just fighters - every single person was trained in combat in
some way. Those who were trained to be warriors, however, were ferocious and terrifying
when they got going. The battle rage was something that was honed in them and made
stronger, just as their will was strengthened. The sight of the main house burning in the
night, a home that had housed generations of Alphas, must have triggered them. But rage
blinded a warrior when it took over, and he was sure many of them had died. He also
knew that they wouldn’t have gone down without a horrific fight first.

“I was afraid that I would never say this,” his father began, drawing Mikael’s attention
back to him, “but you did very well. You made a real difference in that last fight, and you
showed a courage I haven’t seen in you in ages.”

Mikael blinked at his father, surprised. “I charged into the unknown, willing to fight. You
always said that kind of behavior was blind and stupid.”

“True, I did. But when things are desperate, desperate measures must be taken. You came
into a battle that might have been lost, and you let your instincts guide you. You need to
make smart decisions, but you need to be a goddamn werewolf too, Mikael. You did both
today. You didn’t hesitate. You tore into that bastard, hoping to kill him even though the
battle was mostly lost by the time you showed up. That’s not stupid. That’s what we have
to do sometimes.”

“Werewolves do not need to be fools and bullies,” Mikael repeated, echoing his father’s
words back at him without batting an eye. The battle had filled him with pride and
strength, and the victory had taken those feelings to their maximum. For the first time in
his life, he felt in control of everything happening around him, like he could best
whatever would come his way. Even if what got in the way was himself.

“Sometimes, a wise man must be a fool to make all the difference,” his father replied
gruffly, yet there was a proud tone in his voice. “You saw the odds and you charged in
anyway, you took the one option available, and you did it with pride. You asked me once,
ages ago, why I chose you over another, even over Katarina. Now you know why.”

“She fought just as hard, harder even,” Mikael pointed out, now feeling awkward.

“That’s easy,” Katarina said, approaching them. She was holding herself upright, showing
every bit of pride that Mikael would expect from her. Even with the wounds still on her
body, with blood smeared in a few places, she looked dignified. All the elegance she had
ever managed was gone, of course, but that was Katarina for you.

“It is?” Mikael asked, eyeing her carefully to make sure she was standing all right.

She waved him off with a dismissive hand when she saw his concern. He knew she had to
be a in a great deal of pain, and probably ached all over. Yet his sister was a fighter and a
survivor. There wasn’t much that could keep her down, and she was even tougher when
she was injured.

“Because I’m a warrior, big brother,” she said. “That’s why. Even in war, you don’t put a
warrior in charge of the people. That’s what generals are for. You put someone who
knows how to fight and will, yeah. But you also have to choose someone who can make
decisions that aren’t just about fighting. Even in war, people need to eat, they need their
lives to go on, and having someone who doesn’t half scare the shit out of them helps with
those things.”

Mikael laughed. “Okay, well, I don’t make people nervous like you do, I’ll give you that.”

She smiled, shrugging. “You took charge, brother. Even coming in late to the party, when
we probably should have lost, you never lost faith in us, or at least that’s the way it felt.
You didn’t come ready to spill blood and go down fighting. You came in to help. The
whole damn Grove sang with you when we won. That’s saying something.”
Her eyes flicked to their father. Even their father had joined the victory howl, following
Mikael’s cue when the first voice should have been his own. Mikael hadn’t given much
thought to what he’d done at the time. He’d done what felt right at the time. The moment
had felt special, though he hadn’t known exactly why. Now he understood. His father
had, in the most primal and significant of ways, acknowledged that his heir was truly to
be the next to lead this pack.

“Dean?” Mikael asked, his voice sounding even and firm to his own ears.

Mikael could have sworn that he saw the corner of his father’s closed lips twitch upward.
“Even after all of this?”

“Dad,” Mikael sighed in exasperation, not even caring that he had lost the formal title in
this one moment. “Especially because of this.”

The older werewolf took note, then snorted. “We can make it official after we deal with
this mess. Do you think you can manage the patience to wait until after we’re done
cleaning up?”

At that, Mikael turned to Damian, who lay bound and gagged nearby. They didn’t
actually have anywhere to put the man at the moment, so he had been tossed to the
ground and left there. Apparently, Damian had found his courage since his attempt to
flee, as he glared at Mikael with true hate in his eyes. Mikael wasn’t particularly bothered
by that—he had already proven who was the better fighter, and who was a goddamn
coward as well. Damian was bound and surrounded, so he wouldn’t try anything. He
valued his own skin far too much for that.

“Fine. What do we do with him then?” Mikael asked, still wanting to throw the other wolf
in the ring so he could tear his throat out.

“We need him for the moment, so we must keep him in one piece,” his mother answered,
the first words she had spoken since the fight had ended. When she faced him, her eyes
were bright, and he sensed pride in her. Her eyes drifted to Damian on the ground before
him, her lips twitching in a suppressed expression of disgust and hatred. If Mikael were to
guess, he would say that she was more disgusted with his attempts to flee the battle than
with his underhanded tactics. He supposed, in some way that made sense. His mother was
even more pragmatic than his father, and she probably didn’t fault Damian too much for
using whatever was necessary to win. But she couldn’t abide cowards.
“Yeah, I’m guessing it would be better to present him alive to the other packs, rather than
just chuck his corpse at their feet,” Mikael huffed, disliking the idea even as he knew it
was necessary.

“To say the least, especially as we don’t have any of his entourage with him,” his mother
said. “Both his main bodyguard and his Shaman are absent. I imagine they were here, but
no one can seem to find them.”

“Which means we need this piece of crap alive,” Mikael grunted, repressing the urge to
kick the man while he was down. With Damian dead, it would be their word versus
whoever had managed to escape, and if his most important men got away, it could mean
trouble. Mikael imagined the man would have a backup plan that might involve twisting
their rightful capture into a kidnapping and ransom situation.

Even if Damian’s people spun that story, they wouldn’t show their hand with an outright
attack. But Mikael wouldn’t ransom that man for shit, and would happily drag him to the
other alphas and lay out his crimes before them. He was quite sure it would be more than
enough to convince even the nervous ones to take their side.

With Damian as their captive, the people of The Grove would have the time to get
themselves back in order before they had to face the other packs. Mikael knew more than
a few who had aligned themselves with Damian would take the chance to wash their
hands of the backstabber. The trick would be making sure that none of Damian’s co-
conspirators managed to work any schemes before that.

Mikael looked around. “Do we have a full count of everyone?” Both alive and dead.

His father eyed him. “No. Beyond what you see here, the children across the way, and
Dean, we don’t know anything else. We’re waiting for a few scouts to return yet, though
the twins should have been back by now.”

Artemis and Apollo’s delay didn’t bode well. They were normally the quickest to respond
to any call to arms. His father hadn’t mentioned Lucille at all. That Samuel hadn’t
brought her up at all meant he wasn’t worried, and Mikael wondered if perhaps she had
been elsewhere when this had happened.
“So, the kids were there,” Mikael said. “I thought I’d seen them.”

“Yes, they were moved in the chaos. The best we could manage was to seal them in the
house and hope it wasn’t set alight. Though I doubt even Damian would have been so
twisted as to attack a house full of pups.”

Mikael was about to say just what he thought about how far Damian really would sink
when a shout jerked his head up. One of the few remaining fighters skidded around the
corner of the main house, avoiding the flames that were still burning. He dashed straight
for them, and Mikael’s muscles tightened at the look of panic on the man’s face.

“T-the house,” he panted, trying to get the words out as quickly as possible and stumbling
over them as he went.

“Slow down,” Samuel barked, his tone harsh and commanding all over again. “What
happened?”

“Th-the house with the children, it…” the man sputtered.

Mikael paled. His eyes found Damian’s, whose dark eyes were gleaming at him.

“No,” he breathed, turning and running around the main house before anyone could say
anything more. Despite being on two legs rather than four, he felt as if the trip to the
cabin that had housed the children took no time at all. The house stood open, the door
was torn off, and light from the flames nearby illuminated the empty entryway. His blood
ran cold at the sight as he realized the house was utterly empty.

His eyes slipped down toward his own home, and his heart stuttered in his chest. The
door was hanging wide open, and he didn’t need to look to know that his mate was not
there. For a moment, his mind seemed to slow to almost nothing, and he was unable to
decide which way to go, or even which way was up or down.

A rattling breath jerked him from the panicked fog he was sinking into. The noise came
from a man, naked and blood-covered, sprawled near the door. He didn’t know this man,
which meant he was one of Damian’s. The man’s bleary gaze was desperately trying to
focus on Mikael. White hot anger flared in Mikael’s chest, and he stomped over to the
man, then grabbed him by the neck and jerked him up.

“Where. Are. They.” he asked, each word punctuated by a low and malicious growl. The
man’s face somehow managed to go more ashen. The wound on his side wasn’t a wolf
mark. It was clean slash across the whole of the man’s side. There were only two kinds of
wounds that could transfer from the wolf form over to the human form. And of the two,
only one thing could make a cut that clean—no fang or claw could be that deep or neat.

Dean.

“Guess the little human put up more of a fight than you thought, huh?” Mikael asked
savagely, fear and terror threatening to claw at his throat. Dammit, he thought. Do not let
anything have happened to the kids, to Dean, not when they had managed to win. Do not
sour this victory with this loss. Not this.

“Y-y-yes,” the man managed, his voice strained, pained. “Weren’t…weren’t sup-posed to
hurt them. T-ta-take them…only.”

“The kids or my mate?” Mikael demanded through clenched teeth.

“B-both,” the man stuttered. “Human…wasn’t…supposed to f-f-fight. Easy.”

“Yeah, looks easy,” Mikael snorted. “You’re dying.”

The man nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. Then his eyes focused. Mikael had seen
enough men and women die to know this sort of clarity. It was the strength and clarity of
a person on their last breath, willing themselves to do one last thing, one complete act,
before death took them.

“Nox, wants…your mate,” the man managed finally, staring at Mikael.

“Nox? Is that the Shaman?” He thought of the cold focus in the smaller man’s eyes when
he had walked away with Damian.
“Yes, wanted the…the kids, too. Don’t know why…but weren’t supposed to…hurt them,
just…just kids. Your mate…wouldn’t let me take them…fought…and ran.” He breathed
harder, trying to get the words out. It was always a painful process to witness, even if the
person in question was your enemy. “Nox wants him though. You…you don’t want Nox
to, he’s…he’s wrong.”

“You both follow Damian, that makes you both wrong,” Mikael told him, feeling his
anger growing all over again.

Weakly the man shook his head. “No, wrong.”

The emphasis, so heavy with a man’s dying breath, made it all the more chilling. The
worst was that it really was the man’s last words, the shaking rattle of his lungs giving
way to silence. Not for the first time in his life, Mikael watched the light in a warrior’s
eyes fade to nothing. With growling frustration, he lowered the man’s lids.

“Mikael?”

Katarina’s voice brought him upright, and he said, “They’re gone. The kids…Dean.”

“Gone?” Alarm showed for the first time in her voice. “Gone where?”

Mikael’s looked to the dark woods. “There. I think…I think this warrior was supposed to
get the kids and scare them out into the woods. Probably hostages. Dean must have seen,
and he…”

Her eyes fell on the wounded body. “He did that? Oh shit, you gave him the old family
sword, didn’t you?”

Mikael nodded slowly. “Look, Dean must have taken the kids into the woods. This one”,
he motioned down, “said that Damian’s Shaman, Nox, wants Dean. I don’t know why,
but I’m getting the feeling it’s not for any good reason.”

“We’ll call some of ours back to—”

“No, I’m going now,” Mikael growled. “I’m not leaving Dean and a pack of kids to fend
for themselves. Not when there could be more of Damian’s pack still out there, as well as
this Nox asshole.”

“You know Father is going to—”

“Father can kiss my ass. Send someone or several after me if you want. And don’t try to
follow me. We both know you’ll only slow us down with that wound. Deal with Dad first.
You’re better at it.”
Never was he gladder that he had spent so much time around Dean than at that moment.
He had transformed again, knowing he would pay for changing twice in one day so close
together, but he didn’t care. The wolf inside him tracked Dean’s scent with ease.

The one thing keeping him calm was that he couldn’t smell the man’s blood. There was a
hint of blood mingled with Dean’s scent, as well as the familiar smell of the children, but
the blood wasn’t theirs. It was of the man whose body Mikael had left outside of the
cabin. Dean still had the sword with him, and seemed to have led the children into the
woods.

He picked up a strange smell in the breeze every now and then. It smelled like nothing
he’d ever encountered before. His human half found it foul, and his wolf half wanted to
both whine and snarl. Whatever it was, it was nothing that should have been in the woods.
It didn’t even smell like anything natural. Whatever it was, it was not forged by human
hands or by their machines.

After several minutes of running through the woods, occasionally pausing to make sure
that he was still following the trail, he realized where they were headed. Though they had
entered the woods from the east end of The Grove where Mikael had lived, they were
gradually heading north. The only thing that lay in this direction of any note was the
sacred circle they used for their rites, the same sort of rites that could make Dean a
full mate.

Mikael couldn’t tell if Dean knew where he was headed or not, only that after a while, the
man’s scent stopped swerving to the north and instead, headed almost directly in that
direction. Either whatever was giving off that awful scent had herded them that way, or it
had simply followed them. Mikael wondered which, and even the fear he could smell in
Dean’s scent wasn’t an indicator. He smelled anger as well, and he hoped that Dean kept
his head about him. God, that man could be so impulsive when he was angry and backed
into a corner.

As Mikael burst into a clearing, movement caught his attention and he twisted about with
a faint snarl. Apollo knelt between a pair of trees, eyes locked on Mikael, his own small
silver dagger held out before him. The man’s side bled, but his arm never wavered until
his eyes were able to see which wolf stood before him. When he realized who it was, the
arm dropped, and the fierce look in his eyes turned desperate.

A small face peered over Apollo’s shoulder, and Mikael huffed a happy noise, bringing
Apollo to life. “They went that way,” he said.

The normally stoic man pointed in the direction Mikael had been heading, his voice
shaking slightly.

“Dean and Artemis. That…that ‘Shaman’ is after them. She’s hurt, and Dean can’t…
They can’t fight him. Mikael, there’s something wrong with that wolf. I’ve got the kids.
Save my sister. Save your mate. Go.”

Mikael hesitated only for a moment, the first real trembles of fear trailing up and down
his spine as he watched Apollo shudder. More than pain was in the man’s gaze, and his
breath quaked from more than the gash at his side. Mikael thought of the dying
werewolf’s words, that foul smell that he couldn’t figure out, and now this once-
unshakable werewolf looking and sounding scared beyond reason. Whatever this Nox
was, it was nothing that he wanted close to his mate and cousin.

Apollo seemed to sense Mikael’s understanding. He pointed his chin the way the three
had gone, and Mikael dashed into the brush, ignoring the push of the stubborn branches.
He was catching Artemis’s scent now, and Dean’s was stronger. Yet the foul odor was
growing even stronger than before, vying with the other two smells for supremacy in his
senses.

Was it Nox’s smell? Was that what the Shaman had smelled like the whole time? How
had no one noticed? There was no way that anyone would have allowed someone
smelling so putrid anywhere near the Grove, let alone to be in the heart of it. Nox must
have had some way to conceal the smell from the pack, though Mikael couldn’t think of
anything that would be strong enough to cover that awful stench.

A sharp cry of pain and anger cut through his thoughts, and he spurred himself forward
toward the noise. A growing wind carried the sounds of a struggle straight to him, and he
recognized Dean’s voice immediately. He couldn’t understand the man’s words, but there
was hot anger and pain in it. There was no telling if he was badly injured from here, but
something was very wrong.
When Mikael finally burst into the circle of stones that marked the sacred cairn, he was
confused for a moment. Against one of the taller stones was Artemis’s unmoving form.
Dean and Nox were just beyond.

Mikael stepped closer, assessing the situation. Dean seemed whole, and though he was
nursing his left arm, Mikael smelled no blood coming from him. The other man was
calmly walking toward Dean, his pale skin seeming to glow in the low light of the moon.
Even without the smell that was rolling down to Mikael’s nose, he could tell there was
something very wrong with that man, if a man was even what he was.

Nox’s movements were odd, both stiff and yet smooth somehow, like a half-frozen
dancer trying to perform. He was smaller than Dean, yet his presence seemed to extend in
every direction, touching everything around them. It was no longer just a smell, but an
overwhelming sense of wrongness that emanated from him. The man’s white teeth
showed in the low light of the fading moon, and Mikael would swear the canines were
longer and sharper than they should have been.

A glint of light in the grass caught his attention as he approached stealthily. It was the
sword he’d given Dean, and it lay several feet away from the human, too far out of his
reach for it to do any good. The burnt smell came to him then, and he wondered how the
shaman had managed to grab the damn thing from Dean. Wrong or not, the man was still
a werewolf, yet he was able to grab a pure silver sword with his hands?

Nox paused in his steps toward Dean, cocking his head. “I can smell you, little wolf. It
could only be… Mikael?”

The man’s voice sent a creeping sensation of ice dancing up and down Mikael’s spine as
he prowled even closer, now more openly. Both Dean and Nox turned to Mikael. Dean’s
eyes were wild with a new spike of fear that Mikael didn’t understand. Nox, however,
only seemed amused, the excitement obvious in his tidy features. The man’s face was half
in shadow, and Mikael couldn’t make out much of the man, but there seemed to be a
disconcerting glitter in his gaze.

“Of course, it is,” the man seemed to sigh. “Who else would come charging out here by
himself, without backup? I can’t say I blame you, however. There is something about
him, isn’t there? I haven’t a clue what it is yet, though I do have a few ideas. I’ll be sure
to find out for you.”
Mikael’s lips raised, a dangerous growl rising from his throat as his muscles bunched.
Both Nox and Dean noticed it as well, though Nox barely even blinked. Dean took a step
forward.

“Mikael, no!” Dean cried out, panic in his voice. “Don’t!”

The sound of Dean’s utter fear - fear for him - made him freeze. Forcing himself to relax,
the werewolf paced to the side, keeping his eyes on the Shaman as the man watched with
amusement. Mikael knew his maneuvering to get closer to Dean was obvious. But at least
with his new position, he had a straight shot toward either one of them.

Dean’s voice was laced with that same awful mixture of rage and pain. “He can do things,
Mikael. He…he just downed Artemis like it was nothing. I think…I think she’s dead.
Goddammit, I think she’s dead. This bastard did something to her, and she’s
fucking dead.”

Mikael’s heart stuttered at the words, and at Nox’s throaty laughter. “Dean!” the Shaman
cried. “Telling my secrets like that? Whatever will I do with you? Maybe I’ll figure it out
once I get a hold on you. How about that?”

“Don’t you touch me,” Dean snarled, sounding almost wolf like. “Your screwed-up
powers don’t work on me, or you wouldn’t have had to take the sword from me by
force.”

“Quite,” the Shaman huffed, sounding more intrigued than annoyed. “Which I find
delightfully interesting. True, my powers shouldn’t work as well on you, but to not work
at all? It’s almost frustrating, Dean. Do you know how long I’ve practiced them? Of
course, I focused on werewolves. Being one helped, but being surrounded by them made
it imperative. Still, even with the spiritual differences, I shouldn’t have this much trouble
with you. It makes getting my hands on you all the more delightful.”

“Goody for you,” Dean snapped. “You can… what, control people, werewolves? I’ve
seen what you’ve done, Nox. It wasn’t… that wasn’t something anyone should do. Is this
what you and Damian have been playing with this whole time? He’s a bigger idiot than I
thought.”

Nox gave Dean a derogatory snort. “Damian? That fool wouldn’t know real power if it
reared up and bit him on the ass. He is blinder than the rest of our kind, and they are quite
shortsighted, I assure you.”

Dean worked that over in his mind, taking refuge in thought to still his emotions. “You
were using Damian this whole time, weren’t you?”

Nox shrugged. “It’s not as if it was particularly difficult. The man wanted to be the Alpha
of Alphas, and my abilities to speak to the spirit world and divine the future helped him
with that. All it took was my apparent obedience to his leadership, and a few choice
pieces of advice here and there, and it was done.”

“Why?”

“Why do this, or why play him for the fool he’s always been?”

Dean frowned. “Both. Either. Pick.”

Nox sighed. “For the pleasure of it? No? Fine, I played him because I needed this little
war to happen. Of course, his incompetence may very well cost me, since the one true
obstacle to his goals is now standing before me. Insufferable idiot couldn’t even manage a
well-planned ambush right. However, there are ways around that, and you can be sure I
shall deal with it as needed. But I don’t want to walk away from this night with nothing,
and you are the very something I mean to take as my spoils, a reward for putting up with
Damian for as long as I have.”

Dean started at that. “Why me? I’m just a human, some random human who just happens
to be mated to a werewolf.”

“Not officially, but I see your point.” Nox nodded in a pantomime of understanding. “But
you are ignoring the point that you made earlier. My powers are… substantial, not what
they could be, and perhaps not as widespread as they could be, but still substantial. No
mere human should be able to withstand them, and yet here you are. You’re even
ignoring those little love bites I gave you. Don’t they hurt?”

Mikael’s eyes flashed to Dean’s injured arm, and he wondered just how severe the
wounds were. Nox had bitten him. Dean was cradling his arm as if it were far more
painful than a simple bite would warrant. Was the man’s bite somehow toxic?
Dean ignored the man’s jab. “I’ll die before you get me.”

“No,” Nox said, “but by the time that I’m done with you, I’m sure you will wish you had.”

That was enough for Mikael and he charged, aiming straight for Nox, hoping that the
man’s distraction would give him a chance to bring the man down. Nox turned, and
Dean’s shout was sharp in Mikael’s ears, even as he felt his body coil up, ready to leap.
All Mikael needed was a second more, and he would have the man down, his throat in his
jaws. Mikael might not have been able to bring Damian down like he wanted, but he
would be damned if he let this man get away alive. If Dean was right, the man had killed
Artemis, and would do even worse to Dean if given the chance.

That dark glitter returned to the man’s eyes, and for one awful moment, the shadows
around the man squirmed. Nox’s wrist flicked, his fingers dancing out in an almost lazy
gesture. Ice seemed to take hold of Mikael’s muscles, and his legs went out from under
him. He hit the ground, gracelessly flopping with a high yelp. He felt as if the ice that had
locked up his legs was stabbing him from a thousand different directions. His muscles felt
as if they had grown teeth and were attempting to devour him from the inside out.

His body contorted and twisted. Vaguely he could hear Dean shouting, but the pain arced
up into his mind, setting his skull alight with agony. The pain of his change was nothing
compared to the feeling of cold, black hands clawing across his nerves. Everything was
jumbled and confused, and he could taste blood in the back of his throat.

A dull thud preceded the end of the pain, and when he gasped in air it felt ragged and
difficult. Dimly, he was aware of the cool touch of the damp grass against him, soothing
to the heat of his inflamed skin. He realized he was on his back, looking up at the dark
sky, tinged with the colors of a slowly-growing dawn. Then he realized that he was
human again. Sometime during the endless pain, he had changed, and he couldn’t even
remember doing it.

His body was stiff and almost unyielding as he tried to roll over onto his stomach,
unfocused eyes turning up to find out what had happened. Dean and Nox were on the
ground, Dean thrashing about as he tried to get a good hold on the man. Faintly, Mikael
realized that the icy pain had come from Nox, and that its use must require concentration
on his part. Dean had to have launched himself at the man, in some desperate attempt to
break his hold over Mikael’s body.
Groaning, he tried to push himself up, managing to get to his knees. The movement took
a lot more strength than he would have preferred. He needed to get to Dean, who was
losing his battle. Grunting, he shoved at the ground, trying to get to his feet. Human or
not, he wouldn’t let Nox get his hands on Dean.

Dean yelped suddenly, the sound jerking Mikael’s head up. Mikael almost fell over from
the sudden spin of his senses. The human’s body flew away from Nox, tossed away by
some absurd display of strength from the Shaman, into one of the standing stones. Dean
made a cry of surprise and pain as his head thumped against the stone. Mikael’s eyes
grew wide as he stood, watching Dean weakly slide into the grass.

“You,” Nox huffed as he pushed himself to his feet, “are far more trouble than may be
worth it, Dean. Then again, I might just enjoy you fighting me every chance you get. I
haven’t had to deal with a good fighter in quite some time.”

“Stay,” Mikael panted, feeling a little stronger now that he was standing, “away…from
him, you…”

Nox turned to Mikael in surprise. “Oh, look at you! Standing up and everything! I ripped
at you hard enough to bring down even your thick-of-skull father. Aren’t you both
something else?”

Mikael wanted to get to Dean, but he knew the minute he tried, Nox would have him
down in an instant. He didn’t know how or what the man had done to him, but he had
done it without much effort or warning. The man sure as hell liked to talk, though, so that
was Mikael’s only chance of buying some time. He prayed that Dean was okay, but in his
current state, Mikael knew that if he tried anything else he would only get one or both of
them killed. Keeping the man talking would at least let him build up his strength, and
perhaps think about a plan for dealing with Nox. Hell, maybe he could even delay enough
so that back up arrived. Nox couldn’t surely take on more than a few of them at once,
right?

“Same, to you,” he breathed, eyeing the man’s hand. “Neat trick. That a Shaman thing no
one ever told me about?”

Nox scoffed, looking down at his own hand. “Hardly. Though I will admit, if it hadn’t
been for that, I would not have the strength that I do today. So, I suppose you are partially
correct.”

“You went sniffing where you weren’t supposed to, didn’t you?” Mikael asked, worry
spiking through him when Dean still didn’t move. He knew he should be focused more on
the Shaman in front of him, who smelled wrong, did wrong, and was so completely
wrong. Dean had a hard head, Luna knew that. If everything before this hadn’t brought
the man down, being thrown against a rock would be nothing.

Nox rolled his eyes, “Please. The places I have seen, the ones I can tap into, are only
forbidden by narrow-minded, blind fools like you or your father. Ever since my little
spirit guide showed up and brought me to the knowledge I have now, I have known
nothing but power and control. People like you and all the others of our kind who think as
you do are the reason we have not grown or changed. I am the one who can drag us into
the future, even if I have to do it with you kicking and screaming along the way. I am the
future of our kind, Mikael, not you and yours.”

The most incredulous expression crossed Mikael’s face at the man’s little speech. If it
weren’t for the utterly bleak circumstances, Mikael might even have laughed at the man.
The sheer dumbfounded emotion was enough to distract him from even his worry about
Dean for a moment. He tried to find the words to express himself without choking out a
laugh.

“You…you’re the future?” he asked faintly, feeling a twisted sort of humor bubbling up
in him, “Let me get this straight. You get pulled into some dark crap, and it gives you
some messed-up power, and suddenly you’re the future?”

“You don’t get it, do you, Mikael?” Nox snorted, as if to say that he wouldn’t have
expected anything else from him. “What I have is power, and it’s only growing stronger.
The kind of power that can change the whole of the world. Isn’t that the sort of thing that
could forge a future?”

“Nox,” he hissed, jabbing a finger at him, “look at what you’ve done to get this power.
You reek of wrong, you feel wrong, and the shit you’re doing is wrong. There is nothing
right about you. You’ve twisted the powers granted to you by Gaia and Luna, yet you
wanna talk about being the future? Your powers are wrong, and Damian was an idiot for
ever trusting you.”

Anger flared into Nox’s face for the first time. “You’re so ignorant. It’s a shame, really.
You are certainly one tough son of a bitch, and if you weren’t so blind, you would have
made an excellent addition to the roster. But you’re as blind and bumbling as your father,
and that is all you will ever be. Your kind are the relics of the past, and I will bury you
with all the other fossils.”

“You sound like every bad movie villain, Nox,” Mikael said with a snort. “You’re not the
future. You’re a mistake, one someone should have had the sense to fix years ago.”

Nox’s face twisted. “The only mistake was not choosing someone better to wipe you and
your pack off the face of this planet. I will leave your corpse with that woman’s, then take
Dean for a bit of fun while I figure out how to deal with the mess that fool left.”

Mikael leaped, hoping to get to the man before he was able to use whatever twisted power
he could call at whim. He heard Dean’s faint cry, and for a moment his heart swelled,
knowing that the man was alive, and the night was almost sweeter for it. That thought
was washed away as the same blinding agony slammed into him, and his body hit the
ground with a cry. Fire and ice lanced through him, grinding his nerves into bundles of
nothing but pain.

Then it was gone, cut off in an instant, and accompanied by a startled, throaty noise.
Mikael groaned, the rising sun’s light seeming to burn his eyes. But his strength was still
there. Nox was picking himself up off the ground, shock and anger etched on his neat
features. Dean was standing, as well, hair matted with blood that streaked across that side
of his face, staring down at his hands.

“What,” Nox hissed as he steadied himself, eyes narrowing, “was that little trick?”

Dean’s brown eyes swept up to Nox’s black ones, but he said nothing. Mikael noted the
distance between the two men. There was no way that Dean had crossed that distance, but
he couldn’t have thrown something at Nox, either. There was nothing around Nox that
Dean would have thrown. Hell, there wasn’t anything at all around. Except for the sword
that lay a few feet behind Nox.

The sword.

“I guess I was more right about you than I thought,” Nox chuckled, though he shifted a
little from one foot to the other. Even in his foggy state, Mikael could see the other man
wasn’t nearly as confident as he had been only moments before. Something had happened
that Mikael, blinded by the pain driving through him, had missed.

“I guess you were,” Dean said, that look of awe filtering into his voice. “But I bet you’re
regretting playing with your food now.”

“Oh, certainly not,” the smaller man said, brushing the front of his shirt off. In the
growing light of the dawn, Mikael could actually see the shadows around the man
wiggling and squirming. He had hoped it had only been a trick of the light before, but
now it was even more obvious. Whatever the man was doing, or was preparing to do, it
was twisting the shadows made by his own body and by the rocks. “Though I do think I
have figured out what you are now, which is… fascinating. Yet, it’s of no consequence.”

“I think I have, too.” Dean’s voice was low and almost a whisper. “But I think it’s of
great consequence.”

“Do you?” Nox asked, that contemptible amusement back in his voice. “I guess you will
have to learn then, Dean. You surprised me because I wasn’t expecting it, no more than
that. One little trick in a moment of desperation does not put you on my level. Now, be a
good boy and sit down while I deal with your mate, and maybe I will only make your
anguish last a few hours instead of weeks.”

“No.” Dean’s eyes closed as he spoke, as he breathed in the morning air, spreading his
arms out. Mikael felt, rather than saw, something building around the man, curling around
him and growing stronger, thicker. The foul smell that permeated the place bled away,
replaced by an entirely different smell. It was the smell of the earth after it rained, flowers
blooming in the spring, the crush of autumn leaves, and the crisp, clean smell of cold,
snowy air, all wrapped into one. It was growing stronger, fighting with the horrible stench
that Nox gave off.

“Dean,” Mikael breathed, transfixed. Nox seemed to be frozen in surprise. Dean’s eyes
opened, and a small smile played on his face as he looked over the two of them. He
looked at the clearing around them, and past even that. There was a faraway expression
on his face that Mikael had never seen there before. Whatever Dean was doing had wiped
away all traces of fear and worry.

Dean’s gaze returned to Nox. “If this is anything close to what you knew before Nox,
you’re an absolute fool for giving it up for shadows and twisted power. And you forgot
one simple thing in your calculations of our power.”

Nox’s eyes flicked from Dean to Mikael, his tongue running over his bottom lip. “And
what, pray tell, might that be? I know what you are, little fledgling Druid, but you lack
the experience and knowledge.”

“True,” Dean admitted, “but, you’re in my home, asshole.”

Something swirled, the air around Dean hazing and the light around them growing even
brighter for the briefest of moments. The shadows around Nox spasmed angrily, thrashing
about as the man’s hand came up. The two forces met. Mikael swore under his breath
when the shadows pushed forward, pressing the light away from Nox. There was a
quivering at the edges of them though, as if they were struggling to shove through the
sunlight streaming down from the clear sky above them.

Grass under the shadows blackened and died, but areas in light vibrated and glowed with
life. Small wildflowers even sprouted from the earth. The smells of both powers, light
and dark, slammed into one another and washed over the whole clearing.

“And I rise with the sun,” Dean said.

“Dean!” The loud shout brought Mikael about to see Katarina, backed by two more
wolves. The sword in her hand drooped, her expression mirroring his own as she stopped
at the edge of the clearing. The other two wolves were his father and his mother.

Dean was not winning this fight, either. It had been an even match at first, something that
Nox apparently had not expected. But the dark man’s experience was winning out, bit by
bit. Mikael could see it in the tautness of Dean’s face, and the shake of his legs and arms.

Nox threw his head back and laughed, the shadows squirming their way forward little by
little. “You have so much potential. What a shame that you’re wasting it on this lot.
Perhaps I’ll find another like you somewhere. Maybe I’ll have better luck with them. We
could have fun, you know.”

“Go to hell,” Dean huffed, his knees beginning to buckle. That was enough for Mikael,
and he threw himself a few feet behind Nox. The dark Shaman didn’t even seem to
notice,
still riding the rush of his own power and egomaniacal glory. Mikael’s hand wrapped
around the handle of the sword.

“Sad for you, learning of your gift so late in the game,” Nox cackled, “but you did try
your best. Now bow to my power, little Druid. Bow to the new future.”

“Bow to this,” Mikael hissed in Nox’s ear as he drove the sword into the man’s back and
out of his chest. A choked, wet gurgle slipped from the Shaman, the noise turning
strangled as Mikael twisted the blade before ripping it out and letting the man fall to his
knees as blood spattered across the dead grass. The feeling of power in the air dropped,
leaving nothing but Dean and his own ragged breathing. Dean collapsed to his knees.

“No,” Nox choked out. “No… I am…”

“A fixed mistake,” Mikael hissed, bringing the sword down one last final time.
The past couple of days had been rough, to say the very least. Over the last few days, the
people of The Grove had constantly been on the move, only pausing long enough to crash
on a somewhat soft surface and go unconscious for a few hours. The process would start
all over again when they woke up and hit the ground running to get The Grove back to
some degree of normalcy.

There was also damage done to people’s hearts. Many lives had been lost in the battle.
Most of the survivors kept themselves busy in an effort to move past their grief. Many
dealt with it by pouring their grief into the process of rebuilding and getting their lives
back together. Their private grief would be kept private, and that was how it went with
the people.

Apollo sat in a far corner of the clearing, almost curled against a tree. The loss of his twin
had hit the man hard. Dean himself was melancholy over the loss of the vibrant woman.
Mikael’s chest ached, too. He missed her dearly. He was eternally thankful to her for
having protected Dean, rather than staying with her brother and the children. She had
given her life and saved Dean, as her fight had given Mikael the time to catch up. Mikael
could only wish that she had not had to die for that to happen, and that he had been faster
about getting to them. But he couldn’t even begin to understand what Apollo was going
through. The twins had been inseparable since birth. The taciturn man had not spoken a
word since the night of the attack.

Dean had been quieter than he normally was, save for when he was around the kids. Then
he was all smiles and laughter, keeping them distracted and playing with them while their
parents and older siblings worked. The fact that Dean had fought off a werewolf and
taken the kids on a trip through the woods had made an impression on the younger ones.
Dean had also received more than his fair share of enthusiastic thanks from grateful
parents.

The little spare time he had was spent on attempts to get control of his new abilities. Dean
always walked away from his private practice with a studious expression on his face, but
not a displeased one. Mikael hadn’t been able to watch any of the practice sessions, he’d
been just as busy as everyone else. He actually hadn’t yet asked to see what Dean could
do yet, though Dean had mentioned that what had happened out in the Sacred Cairn had
been a fluke.
“I was stressed, pushed to the edge, surrounded by the power of that place, and facing off
against my polar opposite,” Dean had explained afterwards as his fingers played through
the grass. “The kind of strength you have at moments like that isn’t your everyday level,
babe. I have to figure this out. I just don’t know how yet.”

Mikael had left Dean be alone after that, not just for the practice, but to let his mate work
out what had happened that night. Dean refused to talk about it, though he knew he would
have to discuss it with the Alphas when the time came. The man was also more prone to
wandering off than he had been before. He always went to the woods. The previous night,
Dean had slipped outside and Mikael had found him sleeping beneath a tree. Something
had awakened in the man.

The salt in everyone’s wound was the loss of Damian. When the rest of Mikael’s family
had left to help Mikael find the children and Dean, the treacherous bastard had escaped.
No one was quite sure how he had managed to get out of his bindings. He had used the
confusion to his advantage again. By the time anyone had noticed that the man had
slipped his bonds, he had limped his way deep into the forest.

At least Nox was dead. Removing that bastard’s head had been one of the most
pleasurable moments of Mikael’s life. The man had manipulated everyone, and though
Damian was one of the people he had used, Mikael wasn’t about to forgive the bastard
either. Nox might have nudged him in that direction, but Damian had charged forward
with glee. The loss of his shaman had to have hit Damian hard, but no harder than the loss
of a good many of his best fighters.

Mikael and Dean were summoned to a clearing a few days after the battle. The pack had
created a small cleared area, a temporary place for his mother and father to hold
proceedings. Mikael wasn’t sure why Apollo was there as well. The man seemed to obey
the summons automatically, slinking to the far corner to await whatever fate was in store
for him. The man’s pale, drawn appearance tightened Mikael’s throat, and his heart went
out to him. Of all the mourning in The Grove, Apollo’s was the harshest, and yet the
quietest.

Mikael’s father looked at Dean. “We can guess what happened before you left. The
children were quite eager to tell us how you fought the wolf sent there to take them.”

Dean snorted. “Less of a fight and more like he slipped on one of their toys. But yeah.”
Samuel waved a hand. “Whatever the case, you took them to the woods when Nox
showed up?”

Dean grimaced and nodded. “Yeah, I recognized him and tried to get the kids out of there.
He was just toying with us though, kept leading us around. Then Artemis and Apollo
showed up.” He hesitated, his eyes darting over to where Apollo sat in silence. “They
tried to jump him, but…he put up a fight. Apollo was hurt in the fight, and I…”

“That’s when you left?”

Dean nodded slowly, swallowing hard. “He had already tried to go for me. He didn’t
seem to care about anyone else, not even the kids. With Artemis and Apollo with them, I
thought I could lure him away from them. He’d already made it clear that he didn’t care if
he hurt anyone else, it seemed like the only option at the time.”

Dean squirmed next to Mikael, his guilt obvious even as Mikael laid a hand on his knee.
“It was a good plan, Dean,” Mikael said. “You were right. It got him away from them.”

The man nodded slowly, still looking upset. “Yeah, well, he followed me to the cairn. He
did his stupid talking thing a lot, mostly just trying to convince me to come with him,
what fun we were apparently going to have. I didn’t know Artemis had come after us
until she tried to attack him. He…he did the same thing to her that he did to Mikael, but
when I tried to stop him that time, he…bit me.”

Samuel eyed the bandage on Dean’s mark. “Has it healed?”

Dean gave a slight shrug. “A little. I think whatever is going on with me is helping. It was
like being bit by a snake, it was like…”

“Icy flames shoving through your body,” Mikael supplied.

Dean looked up, nodding. “Yeah, it took everything I had to stay conscious. By the time I
could move again, Ar-Artemis…”
His voice cut out with a choked noise. He hung his head, but not before Mikael saw his
eyes swim with unshed tears. No one said anything as Dean struggled with himself for a
moment. It was difficult for Mikael to sit there and let Dean suffer. He wanted to take the
man into his arms. Yet he knew Dean needed to speak, not because his father needed the
story, but because Dean would never forgive himself if he didn’t push past everything. He
was strong, and he was proud of that strength. Mikael would not take that from him.

“It was too late,” Dean resumed quietly in a hoarse voice. “When I wouldn’t come with
him after that, he tried using the same power on me. It didn’t work, though it was…it felt
disgusting. Then Mikael showed up, and everything else you already know. He used it on
Mikael. Nox and I fought. He almost killed me with that throw, and then…”

His father shifted on his cushion. “He called you a Druid.”

Dean looked up, locking his saddened gaze with Samuel’s. “Yes.”

“And?”

At that, some of Dean’s life came back to him with a snort. “Are you asking me if I think
he’s right? Do I think I’m what your legends would call a member of the People of the
Sun? I don’t know, Samuel. I just know something big happened. I thought I was dying
against that rock, and that asshole was going to kill Mikael and probably tear this place
apart. Then I… woke up, is the best way to put it.”

“From hitting one of the cairn stones?”

Dean shook his head at that, his brow furrowing. “I never really lost consciousness. But it
was like, suddenly I could smell the whole forest around me, I could…I could feel it. For
a second there, it was like the whole forest just came alive, and I could feel it in every
part of me. Everything seemed so…”

“Surreal?” That was Mikael’s mother. So rarely did she say anything during formal
meetings. Yet the look of eager wonder on her face told him that sometimes even she
couldn’t hold back. Not that his father really seemed to mind very much, if the look on
his face was any indication.
Again, Dean gave a shake of his head. “No. When I stood up and looked around, it wasn’t
surreal, it was like… like I had been wandering in fog my whole life. For that moment,
everything was perfectly clear, and I knew what I was doing. When I was fighting him, it
was like I was using the will of the forest to do it. I can’t even explain what it was like, or
the fact that I could feel his power. I’d rather feel the pain of his bite compared to the feel
of his power. It was…horrific.”

“I have never heard of the kind of power he had,” Samuel admitted.

Dean eyed the man. “Yeah, you have. The same story that told about the People also
talked about a Darkness. That’s what was in him, some living black hole. It was
everything wrong that’s ever been, a small piece of utter dark death and destruction. It
was like staring into the void, Samuel, and he had that in his soul.”

Mikael’s mother drew something from her pocket and, with a quick movement, tossed it
to Dean. Instinctively Dean caught the object. Immediately, he yelped, dropping it into
the grass. It was a small gold medallion and chain. Dean winced, shaking his hand, an
ugly red mark on his palm and fingers. With a confused and annoyed expression, he
looked at her, silently asking what she had done.

Her small shoulders rose and fell. “Pure gold Dean. You are what he said, and what you
refuse to call yourself. I suppose it would be more accurate to say you have always been,
but only realized it quite recently. I doubt you could do now what you did at the Cairn,
but in time, I have no doubt you could do that again and even more, given the time to
learn.”

“Gold?” Dean asked, poking the medallion away from him with his shoe.

“Oh hell, your allergy,” Mikael said in sudden wonder, plucking the medallion up and
looking at the simple object. “I remember you telling me a while ago that gold irritated
your skin really bad if it touched you for too long. Gold is a Druid thing, like silver is
with us?”

His mother took the jewelry back. “It has been said that our silver weakness comes from
the moon, as silver is its metal. The old stories said that Druids were tied to the sun, and
gold would seem to be the metal for that. It seems I was correct. Apparently, Dean’s
awakening has turned the allergy into a full reaction.”
Dean eyed the gold chain around Mikael’s neck. “Better take that off before bed.”

Samuel shifted again to signify that he wished to speak. All went quiet once more. It was
obvious from the bags under his father’s eyes that he hadn’t been sleeping well. In
contrast, Mikael slept heavily when given the chance. His father had more than guilt and
grief on his mind, but Mikael would have to try to make sure the man got more rest than
he currently seemed to be getting.

“We will be dealing with the Damian situation as best we can,” his father began. “The
best we can do is send a few able people out to share what happened here. For now, we’re
keeping what happened with Nox out of the tale. As it is, only those of us here, Lucille,
and Katarina know about it. Neither will tell. I’ve already sent Lucille out to spread the
news about Damian, so you can be sure she’ll keep much to herself.”

“Don’t want them to know you have a Druid on the payroll?” Dean asked, sounding tired
and resigned.

“A fledgling Druid in a wounded pack is a prime target,” Samuel answered evenly. “Until
you are either more skilled or we have recovered sufficiently, it is better to keep it to
ourselves. We also aren’t sure if there are any others like Nox out there, and we don’t
want to draw their attention any more than we already have. If there’s one thing I’ve
learned about the dark things of this world, it’s that where one thing is, there is bound to
be more.”

Dean squinted at Samuel. “What, now that I’m a Druid, I’m a member of the pack?”

Mikael’s father actually smiled a little. “No. You were slated to become a full member
before we even knew you and the children had disappeared. You can thank your soon-to-
be mate for that. After helping to turn the tide of the battle, he wasted no time in arguing
your case. There is usually a small ceremony for it, but now isn’t really the time. Once we
are more stable, we’ll organize it. However, because I’m the damned Alpha, I can still say
you’re a full member. So, welcome.”

Dean beamed at Mikael. The look in the man’s eyes had Mikael’s chest fluttering. For the
first time in days, Dean looked happy. There was gratitude and warmth in his face that
had color flushing Mikael’s cheeks.

“In any case,” Samuel continued in a dry tone, “you are to continue your research and see
if you can find more. Your primary duty will be to develop your abilities. What we know
about you now is even less than before, and you will have to be a pioneer with this. None
of the packs around here has a Druid, and we do not need to let them know about you.
Perhaps in time, but not now.”

“Are we being sent home then?” Dean asked.

“Yes. Mikael will be going with you. It’s better that he’s with you. You’re almost his
mate, and that’s where he should be. That being said, my primary motivation in sending
him with you is for your protection. I don’t believe anyone else would guard you as
fiercely as he will.”

“There’s a process to make it official?” Dean asked, looking like his old curious self again.

Samuel cleared his throat. “Yes, Mikael can tell you about it another time. In any case,
you should return soon. We need you learning what you can as quickly as possible.”

Dean nodded, drawing himself up. “I have a request.”

Samuel’s brow raised. “So soon?”

Chewing his lip, Dean looked at Apollo. “I want Apollo to come with us.”

“Apollo? Why?”

Dean’s eyes fell to his lap. “I have my reasons.”

Samuel watched Dean carefully, trying to search the man for the answer. Mikael could
see the tension and worry on Dean, and he could see the guilt plain as day. Dean, though
he hadn’t said it, felt guilty about Artemis’ death. Maybe he even expected that Apollo would
blame him for what had happened, and Mikael couldn’t say if that were true or not.

Slowly, Samuel nodded. “Very well. Perhaps it’s best.”

Apollo had only glanced up at the conversation, saying nothing. Even his face was blank
as he looked between Samuel and Dean. Eventually, his eyes moved away from them,
resuming their listless stare at the trees.

“I do not believe that Damian knew about what happened at the cairn. I also think
Damian will not be making a target of you specifically,” Samuel continued, breaking the
silence.

“You don’t think Nox would have said something to him?” Dean asked.

“If he really manipulated Damian as he claims, then I doubt he shared very much with
Damian. I doubt he expressed much more than a passing interest in you. He would have
wanted to keep you to himself. I don’t believe Damian has reason to suspect anything
more, but it’s better to be cautious. Damian has lost his Shaman, and that means he’s lost
both a highly important status symbol as well as an adviser.”

“Like you said, there’s bound to be more people like Nox out there,” Mikael said. “We
can’t say that Damian won’t find another one, or another won’t find him.”

“He started this war,” Dean said. “Nox, that is. Damian might have been the one to
actually do it, but Nox was pushing for it. If what I felt in him was the real thing, then he
didn’t just do it for fun. He was feeding off everything that happened. I’ll bet you that
there’s more like him out there. That’s not the last time we’ll encounter his type.”

Samuel smiled mirthlessly. “Then we had better be ready. Learn and practice hard, Dean.
We’ll have need of you in the coming days.”
The morning light through the window finally managed to wake him. Rolling over with a
groan, he felt the other side of the bed and wasn’t surprised to find it empty. Especially
when he eyed the clock and saw that dawn had been a couple of hours before. Mikael
wasn’t sure how Dean managed to keep slipping out of bed without even slightly
disturbing his sleep. The man was becoming too stealthy for his own good.

Huffing, Mikael pushed himself up, blinking as he gazed around the room. By now, the
other man would have already had his breakfast and gone to work. Their mornings were
usually shared, unless Mikael decided to be extra lazy and stay in bed. Sometimes, he
even convinced Dean to stay in bed a little longer. He liked to wrap himself around
Dean’s body to keep him there. The sleepy mornings, when they lay curled around each
other as the sun rose, were his absolute favorites.

When he sat up completely, he saw that he wasn’t alone. Nix sat on the corner of the bed,
peering up at him in that quiet, disconcerting way she had. Come to think of it, she
actually reminded him a bit of Apollo. He had never heard the cat make a sound before,
and she didn’t seem intent on changing that. Instead she gazed at him as if wondering
what he was still doing lying in bed.

“Your dad decided to let me sleep in,” he explained to the cat as he swung the blankets
off himself. “No use telling the man that I can get up with him. You know he should be
the one sleeping in, anyway. I think I can manage helping a few animals in his place, or
Apollo can. You guys love him.”

The cat flicked her tail at him, but did nothing else. It was true, though. Even Nix, as
antisocial as she was, seemed to enjoy Apollo’s company. Every animal on the farm had
taken instantly to the quiet man. Even the newest sheep, nervous of anyone who came
near them, had warmed up to him quickly. Now, the sheep followed the quiet man around
wherever he went, staring through the barrier that was their pasture fence. This fact
seemed to delight Dean.

Jax, of course, was in heaven. He had his three most favorite people together and could
hardly decide which of them he wanted to follow around. Typically, it was Dean, who
was
his dad. It helped that following Dean meant Jax got to be outside a lot. When it came to
sleep, the dog had decided that Apollo was the best choice. With only one person in the
bed, rather than two who were prone to shifting about in their sleep or kicking the dog out
in favor of noisier activities, Jax could snuggle in peace.

Padding down the hallway to the stairs, Mikael glanced at the room at the other end of the
hallway. The door was open, telling him that Apollo had already left his bed. The man
was as bad about waking up early as Dean was. It meant that Dean had a silent shadow all
morning. Apollo had still not spoken a word, but he was very faithful to his duty as
another of Dean’s guards. If Mikael wasn’t around Dean personally, you could bet that
the silent werewolf was somewhere nearby, keeping an eye on him.

In the kitchen, the coffeepot was full of coffee, meaning it was freshly brewed. Dean
might be an early riser out of habit, but the man guzzled coffee in the process. As the
mornings had grown steadily cooler, he had taken to drinking more than usual. Mikael
could only wonder what mornings would be like when winter finally came. The idea of
an overly-caffeinated Dean, stuck in the house with little to do, was both amusing and
horrifying.

Humming a little sound of appreciation, he poured himself a cup and sipped. When the
bitter taste hit his tongue just right, he knew that it had been Dean who had made it.
Apollo had tried once to make the coffee, and the results had been anything but
appetizing. Even Apollo hadn’t wanted to touch the drink, pouring the pot out when he
thought no one was paying attention. They had noticed of course, but neither Mikael nor
Dean was going to say something when they were secretly glad someone had done it.

Mikael found Dean in the grass at front of the porch. Between the man’s legs was a
dandelion that had managed to keep its yellow coloring rather than white fluff. The
yellow insides of the plant quivered and wavered as if in a breeze, despite the stillness of
the air. As Mikael watched, the dandelion gave another little shiver and then began to
close up, slowly at first and then speeding up until it was only a bud.

“Neat trick,” Mikael said. “Can you make it open back up, too?”

Dean smiled up at him. “It’s what I’ve been doing, but I don’t want to keep messing with
it. Kind of feel bad. Well, that, and it takes a lot of focus. I can’t imagine what it must
have been like for any others like me, you know? I can’t imagine all of them having a big
dramatic power awakening. They must have had the hardest time learning. At least I
know kind of what it’s supposed to feel like, so I can work off that.”
“Not as impressive as fighting off evil forces, huh?”

Dean snorted, stretching his legs out in front of him. “I did say that it wouldn’t be like
what you saw. I knew that was true from the start, I could feel it. Samuel is right, I’m a
baby Druid, and I have to learn as quickly as I can on my own. I’ve got that one moment
of knowing what it can be like, and who knows how much time? So, I’m trying my best. I
just hope winter doesn’t make it difficult.”

“We’ll get some more houseplants then.”

Dean huffed up at him. “Mikael.”

“Greenhouse?”

That gave Dean pause. “Think you can?”

Mikael could only shrug at that. “Don’t see why not. Haven’t built one myself, but if I
have the right materials and see how it’s done… Yeah, I could.”

“That might actually work, I’ll dig up some stuff online later.” That thoughtful expression
returned to his face. “It would certainly make it easier. Hell, might even give me an
option for some winter farming in the future. Can’t believe I didn’t think about it before.
Only a small one at first though to give you practice in making it. Plus, we don’t really
have the time or money for a big one. Hmm, look at you go.”

Mikael made a face at the smaller man. “I do have good ideas, you know.”

“Every now and then, yeah,” Dean grinned wickedly. “And aren’t you cold? What is it
with you werewolves?”

Mikael glanced down, realizing he was wearing only a pair of thin shorts and a t shirt.
Then he raised an eyebrow at Dean, who was currently sitting in the dew-covered grass,
wearing his working jeans and a t shirt. His jacket was thrown casually over the porch
railing.
“We run hot naturally, which you complained about every night during the summer,”
Mikael reminded him with a smirk. “What’s your excuse?”

Dean looked down at his bare feet. “Guess I don’t really notice it as much. Like, it’s cold
but it’s not really something that bothers me anymore. My feet have been soaked from the
grass forever now, and it doesn’t really bother me. It’s kinda freaky actually, knowing
that’s just one more thing that’s different about me from before.”

Mikael frowned, crouching onto the top step. “You alright?”

Dean shrugged. “It’s just hard, is all.”

“Is it just the Druid thing? Or is it the…” he paused, glancing around for Apollo and
deciding to take the safer route. “…the whole thing?”

“It’s the only thing I’m willing to talk about at the moment,” Dean admitted, which
Mikael accepted. Dean was pretty much open about everything with him, to the point that
he was even open about not wanting to be open. It was the sort of brutal honesty that
Mikael could appreciate. It certainly left no question about where Dean stood on things.

“Okay. So, werewolves and monsters from some dark place in the universe you’re okay
with, but not this?”

“All those other things were going on around me, not to me,” Dean explained with a sigh,
plucking the grass, then wincing and simply laying his restless hands on his legs. “This is
about me and who I am. I don’t have a say in this. Everything else I could process, and
choose what I wanted to do about it. This? I can’t change this, I can’t just walk away from
it. I guess if I hadn’t chosen all the other stuff, this probably wouldn’t have happened,
either. Now it’s going to be with me for the rest of my life. I have no choice but to deal
with this.”

That was perhaps the most basic thing that Mikael understood about Dean’s character.
Everything else going on around him, no matter how shocking, could be dealt with. After
all, Dean always had the choice to simply walk away if he really didn’t want to deal with
something. That this new power completely erased that option was probably difficult for
Dean to cope with. The man prided himself on his independence and his ability to do
what
he wanted, and now he was being given little choice in the matter.

“Kinda sucks when everything’s been decided for ya, huh?” Mikael asked with a faint
smile of understanding, hoping he sounded empathetic and not as if he were trying to
make it about himself.

Dean looked up in surprise, then laughed. “You would know something about that,
wouldn’t you? But you could get away from that, couldn’t you? Well, some of it I guess.
Still have to be the man in charge one day, but at least you have some choice in it, right?”

Mikael snorted at him. “With a lot of help, yeah. You win some, you lose some. You’ll
make this a win though, even if you want to grump about it first.”

Dean chucked one of his socks at Mikael with a glare, and Mikael caught it. “Ass.”

“Oh, c’mon. You know I’m right. You just need to make peace with it first and not be so
grumpy that you didn’t have any choice in it. I always knew you were something special.
I guess Gaia decided to make it little more obvious, is all.”

Dean was trying not to smile. Pushing up off of the grass, he moved over to the porch and
sat a step down from Mikael, placing himself between Mikael’s long legs. He leaned back
into the werewolf’s warmth, even as Mikael wiggled at the feel of the man’s cold, damp
clothes against him.

“You’re right,” Dean admitted. “It’s just a little hard, is all. I know a lot of it is me being
stubborn about the whole thing. I don’t like not having a say in it. But I’ll get past it
eventually.” There was a pause and Mikael felt the conversation in Dean’s brain take a
sudden hard left. “So, what’s this process for being a mate?”

Mikael snorted a laugh into his coffee, and Dean blinked at him.

“What? Your dad looked weird as hell when he mentioned it. I didn’t really want to push
it right then, figured I should sometimes give him a break. So, what was that all about?”

“It’s a bit of a layered thing,” Mikael said with a faint smile. “Much as we like to keep
most things simple, we can make other things really complicated.”

Dean rolled his eyes and settled back into Mikael. “Yeah, I noticed that.”

“Really, it’s just having acknowledgment that you’re mated from the Alpha. That’s all my
dad needs to worry about doing, anyway. We take care of the rest of it ourselves.”

Again, he felt the man thinking below him. “Okay, so what’s the ‘rest of it’ bit we have to
do? Your dad seemed almost shy about it. Is it dirty?”

“No,” Mikael chuckled, kissing the top of the man’s head. “It’s just very intimate. It’s a
bite, done in human form. I would have to be partially transformed to do it. It’s… intense
I’m told, for both people. It marks both people as bonded for life, and there’s no way to
remove the effects of the bite. Some of the more old-school thinkers say that it marks the
two on the spiritual level, but more modern people say that there’s some sort of chemical
that is produced for that specific type of bite.”

“You werewolves are really go big or go home about committing for life, aren’t you?”

“Sorta, but not every person who’s a mate to another has the bite. Some are simply
acknowledged as mates by my father and mother, and that’s enough for them. It’s quite a
step you know, marking someone else. It marks the marker in its own way, too. You do
that to someone, or someone does it to you, that’s all there is to it. For good or bad, you
and that person are bonded to one another for life.”

“I…oh.” Dean thought on that one. “I didn’t…didn’t know all that.”

Mikael worried his bottom lip. “My dad assumed that I’ll mark you. But no one will bat
an eye if it isn’t like that, Dean. No one’s expecting you to do that. I know I’m not.”

Dean’s dark eyes narrowed. “Do you not want to?”

Blinking in surprise, he reared back from Dean. “I - well, that’s not what I meant.
You just…”
Huffing, Dean crossed his arms across his chest. “When you’re ready, we’ll do it. Until
then, we’ll just let Samuel acknowledge me as a member of the pack, then us as mates.”

“I’m glad we came to this decision,” Mikael replied dryly, amused despite himself.

“Pfft. You want to, I can see it. You just need the time to calm yourself down about it.
I’m not going to push it, Mikael, I have you already and I know you’re not going
anywhere. The full process of becoming your mate can wait until you feel better about it.
To try to push you would just make you want to run all over again. I’m in no hurry.”

Alright, so Mikael wasn’t the only one who could read the other like a book.

“Where’s Apollo?” Mikael asked, changing the subject so he could mull over it on
his own.

“He’s in the barn with Fe, Fi, Fo, and Fum,” Dean answered easily, obviously accepting
the change in subject. “I think he’s as taken with them as they are with him. I think he
knew you were coming outside, he went in there a few minutes before you showed up. He
was just… lurking before that.”

“Still hasn’t said anything?”

Dean slowly shook his head. “No. Keeps an eye on me when you aren’t around, but never
saying anything. Never even changes his expression, except his eyes do…soften when
he’s around the animals. I like that Jax sleeps with him. I know it has to help a little.”

“He’s never been a talker. Artemis did most of it for him,” Mikael said aloud, feeling
another constriction of his chest. Dean’s hand wrapped around a calf, squeezing at the
tightness in Mikael’s voice. “But it’s just going to take time… I hope.”

“I can’t imagine what it must be like,” Dean said finally, his voice heavy. Mikael wasn’t
as sold on that as Dean apparently was. Sure, Dean hadn’t lost a twin, but he had lost
everything and everyone he had ever known. That was no small loss, and perhaps it was
why Dean had thought to drag Apollo out to the farm. Maybe that was why Dean had
been so quick to leave everything about his life behind when his family had died, not
wanting to be around all that reminded him of the ones he’d loved and lost. At the
farm at least,
Apollo had less to remind him.

Mikael’s mind drifted to his pack, who were in the midst of mourning their own lost and
rebuilding their homes. He thought about the war that was still on the horizon. They
didn’t know if the general unrest would be settled soon, or if it would resume anew once
Damian found his feet, wherever the bastard was. And then there was Dean’s new
powers, a whole slew of things they had yet to discover let alone hone. Finally, there was
a good chance that there were more like Nox out there, just waiting for their chance to
cause more trouble, or worse. So much of it really did depend on simply waiting it out.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean sighed, smiling against Mikael’s leg as he rested there.

Mikael lay his hand on the side of the man’s neck, rubbing his thumb against the warm
skin. “’Don’t worry, babe. When the time comes, we’ll be ready.”
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