Sailing Deep (17 page)

              Roughly three hours into the party, Dylan found refuge outside on the patio that lined the great hall’s windowed wall. The patio had benches and was lined with hanging plants and standing pots. There was a railing that lined the patio and several stairs leading down into a garden with a maze of walking paths and blocked off from the rest of the castle grounds by large hedges. He leaned against the railing, idly watching the couples wandering through the garden as he breathed in the crisp night air.

              That was where Blake found him. “Here,” He said, smiling as he handed Dylan a drink.

              Dylan gratefully took the cup and sniffed it. “What is it?”

              Blake leaned back against the railing, sipping his drink. “Some sort of rum punch, I believe. Made from a variety of top-shelf liquor, of course. Don’t worry; I made sure there wasn’t vodka in it.”

              Dylan blinked and looked sideways at the other man. “No vodka?”

              “Yeah, you don’t like vodka, right?”

              Dylan stood up straight, both hands resting on the railing with his fingers curled around the cup. His brows furrowed. “How did you know that?”

              “Hmm?” Blake looked at him, eyebrows raised.

              “I never told you I didn’t like vodka,” Dylan said with certainty. He turned to face Blake, his drink forgotten. His hatred of vodka stemmed from enough bad experiences when he was young. The last of which being his graduation party. He got so drunk off of cheap vodka that he had accidentally wandered into his boyfriend’s little brother’s room to sleep. Luckily the kid didn’t seem to mind, but it was still very embarrassing the next day. Not that he had much time to feel embarrassed, he was too busy puking his guts out. Ever since he couldn’t stand the smell or taste of vodka, and he could always taste it, no matter how little there was in a drink.

              And he was certain he hadn’t told Blake any of that. Their drinking habits had never come up in conversation.

              “Didn’t you?”

              “No,” Dylan said firmly. His eyes narrowed a fraction. Something was nagging at the back of his mind.

              Blake shrugged. “Must be a coincidence then.” He glanced sideways at Dylan, tilting his head in that manner that gave him a confused look. “Do you want another drink?”

              “How do you know so much about me?” Dylan asked, lowering his voice.

              “I told you, I read your file.” Blake also lowered his voice, pitching it low enough that only Dylan’s sensitive hearing could pick it up.

              “That wouldn’t have been in my file.” The nagging voice in the back of Dylan’s mind was gaining volume, putting words to his thoughts. “You knew my name when we first met.”

              “Yes,” Blake said slowly. His smile had faded, leaving him with an unreadable blank expression. Dylan hated that expression. It meant he was hiding something.

              “That night was an accident. It could have been any one of us who ended up in that holding cell. But you knew my name.”

              “I told you, I read your-”

              Dylan cut him off, stepping closer. “They don’t keep files on us. We’re anonymous to the rest of the government. And any files they do have on us don’t have our faces. You knew my face and my name just from seeing me on the security cameras.” Dylan eyed him suspiciously, his lips pressed into a thin line. He was close enough that anyone watching would think they were just two lovers whispering to each other, hovering on the edge of a kiss. “Who are you?”

              The corner of Blake’s lip twitched, breaking his expressionless mask. Amusement danced in the blue depths of his gaze. “You know who I am, Dylan Harrison.” He said with such honesty that Dylan found himself believing him. “I’m offended you don’t remember. Then again, it’s been so long, and I’ve grown up quite a bit.”

              Dylan’s eyes narrowed a fraction as his brow furrowed. “I don’t … we’ve never met before I got here …” He tried to sound firm, but he was faltering. Had they actually met before the Shadow Pack? Dylan had never been great with faces and names, but he was certain he would have remembered by now.

              “I say I’ve grown up quite a bit, but the truth is, you have, too.” He touched Dylan’s cup, lifting it with a finger. Dylan’s attention was brought back to it. “Might as well finish your drink,” Blake said, sipping his own. “The dragon shifters have nearly made a full sweep of the room. Soon they’ll return to their thrones, and we’ll need to be in place to listen in.” When Dylan didn’t move to drink, Blake sighed. “It’s no fun if I tell you.”

              “Blake,” Dylan said flatly.

              “How about this,” He said, wrapping an arm around Dylan’s waist and pulling him close. Despite his sudden suspicion of the man, he couldn’t help but relax into his side. “You finish your drink, and I’ll answer your questions.”

              Dylan huffed but lifted his glass to his lips. It was good, tasted fruity, and barely burned with alcohol. While he sipped, Blake had already finished his drink. When he was finished, Blake handed him his empty cup and nodded toward a trash can. Dylan rolled his eyes but obediently took both their cups to throw them away. When he returned, Blake was leaning back against the railing, his hands on the railing on either side of him, and his head tilted back to look up at the moon.

              Dylan also glanced up at the moon. It was nearly full. He could feel it’s pull. The wolf was close to the surface in anticipation. He could feel it crawling under his skin, wanting to be released. He felt restless; he felt wary and suspicious, and despite it all, he felt like dragging Blake out into the woods to have sex beneath the stars. He shook his head. They had business to attend to tonight. But first, Dylan had questions that needed answers.

              He stood in front of Blake, toe to toe, and close enough that they couldn’t be overheard. “Who are you?” He repeated, crossing his arms over his chest. “You implied we knew each other a long time ago. When?” He had said they had both grown up since then. Had they gone to school together? Dylan tried to imagine his face younger and tried to place it with any of his classmates. He came up with nothing. He could barely remember the people he went to school with.

              “Roughly ten years ago.”

              Dylan gaped at him. Ten years? No wonder he didn’t remember the man.

              “You were a rather skinny kid back then. Not nearly as fit as you are today.” He continued. His head was still tilted up toward the sky. “I was ever smaller than that. I didn’t really hit my growth spurt until after you had already left.” The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. “You were so cute back then.” He tilted his head back down then, finding and holding Dylan’s gaze. Dylan was surprised by the sincerity he found there. He tilted his head, his smile widening just a small fraction. “You’re still cute now, but you’re a lot more grown … Sexy, if I may be so bold.”

              This was getting them nowhere. Blake’s eyes were unfocused, seeing into a past Dylan couldn’t remember. He cleared his throat, bringing them back to the present. “How did you know I can’t stand vodka?”

              The corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement. “Because I was there when you got too drunk off of it. You swore the next day that you’d never drink vodka again.”

              Dylan hadn’t been expecting that. His mind whirled but came up with nothing. It was a buzz of white noise that couldn’t form coherent thoughts. “How …?”

              Blake pulled his lips down in a mock frown and shook his head. “I’m a little hurt that you still can’t remember me. I know I wasn’t the most memorable person in your life, but I must have made some sort of impression.” He couldn’t hold back his smile any longer, and it tugged his lips upward, lighting his eyes. “After all, you did sleep in my bed that night.”

              Dylan’s jaw went slack, and his eyes widened. No … No, it couldn’t be. His eyes searched Blake’s face. The white blond hair, the daring blue eyes framed by light lashes, the sharp angles, the square jaw … He tried to fit that with the image of the young teenage boy, cheeks still round from youth, eyes defiant and curious, hair a long mess. He could see the similarities though he didn’t want to believe it.

              “Blake…?” He said the same name he had been saying for a month, but he said it uncertainly, questioningly. He knew this man was Blake but was this Blake the little boy who had followed him and his older brother around when they were young? The little boy who holed himself up in his room until Dylan came over? The adorable little boy who loved it when Dylan brought him candy and used to put his head in his lap when they watched movies so Dylan would play with his hair? The little boy who got on his brother's nerves, but who was honestly too adorable for Dylan to get mad at.

              “Hey, Dylan. Long time no see.” He said so softly, so innocently, that Dylan could barely hear him over the buzz in his ears.

              “How …?”

              He shrugged. “A happy little twist of fate, I suppose.” He reached forward and took Dylan’s hand, gently pulling him forward to stand between his legs. He rested his hands on Dylan’s hips and looked up at him from his half seat on the railing. He was grinning mischievously. “We had our first kiss that night.”

              Dylan was horrified. “We did not!”

              “We did.”

              “You didn’t tell me!”

              “It would’ve upset you, and it wasn’t like you could remember anyway. I also slept in the bed that night. I spooned you.”

              “I can’t … fucking believe …” He put his hands over his face, trying to hide from all this new information.

              Blake laughed. The sound was deep, genuine, and made Dylan’s blush that much worse. His hands guided Dylan forward so he could rest his head on his shoulder and continue to hide.

              “I fucked … my ex-boyfriend’s little brother …” Dylan mumbled. He sounded just as disbelieving as he felt.

              “Correction, you are currently fucking your ex-boyfriend’s little brother. At least, I hope this little revelation won’t ruin that.”

              “And you knew!”

              “Of course, I knew. You may have changed, but you still look like Dylan. You don’t simply forget your first major crush.”

              Dylan stood straight, eyes wide as he searched Blake’s face. “First crush …?”

              Blake nodded. He was still grinning. “Oh yeah, big time.” His smile faded as he caught sight of something over Dylan’s shoulder. His whole demeanor changed. His eyes grew hard, and the laughter faded from his voice. “We can talk about it later. The dragons are headed back to their thrones. Come on.”

              Before Dylan could question him further, Blake had taken hold of his hand and was tugging him back inside the great hall. Dylan followed him blindly, barely able to take in the blur of faces and din of voices. Blake was … that Blake? The little kid who used to dote on him? He hadn’t even noticed, and Blake had known the whole time. Blake dragged him to the back of the room and up the spiral stairs that led to the second-floor balcony overlooking the great hall. The shock of the situation didn’t wear off until Blake dragged him into one of the alcoves that lined the wall.

              It was only then that he was able to shake himself out of his momentary stupor. It didn’t matter who Blake was. Blake was Blake. The same man he had gotten to know. The same man that was his fake mate. The same man who was his lover. And right now, they had a mission to do. Dylan pulled himself back into focus as Blake pulled the curtain over the opening of the alcove.

              The alcove itself was a small curved indent into the wall, large enough to maybe fit five but definitely fit two comfortably. The unoccupied alcoves had their curtains pulled back, and seeing how Blake closed their floor length curtain to hide them from view; Dylan had suspicions that the alcoves were made, or at least used for, make out corners. Somewhat perfect for their purposes.

              Blake pulled his phone out of his pocket, as well as headphones. He plugged in the headphones and put an earbud in his ear. Dylan watched, curious, as Blake opened an app and went through several password checks. When he was done, he selected something and a line appeared on the screen. The line was jagged and jumped, like something he would see on a stereo to indicate the rise and fall of music volumes. Grinning, Blake offered Dylan the other earbud. Dylan took it and listened for a moment. He heard static, and the sound of music and voices. The same general clamor that he heard outside their curtain.

              Then he heard the dragons speak, and their voices were loud and clear.

              “Impeccable display, as always, Arulean.” Came the deep female voice. She spoke slowly and lazily, drawing out her words in a very light Russian accent.

              “Whatever do you mean?” Came Arulean’s rich baritone. The way he crafted his words was similar, but where she sounded bored, he sounded indifferent.

              She chuckled. “Do not play coy with me, Arulean. Parading your little pack before me? You do the same every time I come. Frankly, the charade has become quite tiresome.”