Sailing Deep (9 page)

              “I … I didn’t realize that would be so effective.” He said slowly. He looked like he was having a hard time accepting what Blake had told him. And like he didn’t know how to react to such revelations.

              Blake took his hand gently with his right hand and pulled it to him, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Dylan’s hand. He smiled up at him and cooed, “I’m proud of you, love. You did well.”

              Dylan stiffened, his eyes hardening as he yanked his hand away. “We need to clean and bandage that wound.” He said, changing the subject. He released Blake’s arm and stood quickly. He brushed off his back and side before holding out a hand. Blake took it with his left hand and was pulled to his feet. Dylan gestured toward the forest. “Lead the way.”

              They started back toward the compound with Blake leading the way. He knew the way by heart. Blake had spent nearly every full moon since he arrived near the small clearing. Even if he didn’t spend all night there, he always ended up there by morning. He even went to the clearing some nights to clear his head and spend some time alone. He had never brought anyone else there, until Dylan. He smiled to himself. He was happy that he had shared his secret spot with Dylan and only Dylan. It felt … special.

              Dylan followed alongside him for most of the way, except for when the game trails weren’t wide enough for two people. Then he fell behind, ignoring Blake’s comments about staring at his ass. The wind was brisk, but not too cold. It would take a lot more than a one or two-hour walk while naked to chill him. That being said, Blake was looking forward to being in his room and dressed again. Though he’d much prefer being snuggled up in his warm bed with Dylan. Not that the man would be down with that.

              Their walk was mostly silent. Blake, occasionally, made comments about the local plants: things that were pretty and things that were poisonous. He talked about the local wildlife, and he pointed out the signs of them when he saw them. Dylan seemed to be curious, and so he kept up his narration. He pointed out the differences between signs of natural wildlife and signs made by the other shifters. There were a lot of different breeds and, therefore, a lot of different tracks and marks made by their passing.

              Dylan asked a few questions, but mostly just made sounds of acknowledgment whenever Blake spoke. They were both comfortable in silence. It wasn’t a strained silence or an awkward one. It was natural and peaceful.

              As they neared the compound, Blake tilted his head to the side and listened intently. His steps slowed until he stopped. His nostrils flared, sniffing the wind, sorting through the scents. He smelled wolf and tiger.

              “Why did you stop?” Dylan asked, nearly running into him. He sounded offended.

              “Take my hand,” Blake said casually, holding his left hand behind him.

              “What?”

              “Take my hand. Trust me.” Blake said. His voice pitched low. He put enough urgency into his voice to make Dylan do it without more questions. Then he kept walking. The path widened, and Dylan came to walk next to him. Blake laced their fingers together and turned to smile at Dylan, who was looking at him with a questioning eyebrow raised. “Relax.” Was his only warning before a woman’s high laughter danced on the wind.

              Dylan stiffened, glancing toward the sound. It was still out of normal human hearing, but not for them. Blake kept walking, tugging Dylan along when his steps faltered. He squeezed his hand in reassurance.

              The two came into view a few minutes later. A small side path joined with the wider one they walked on. From that small trail came a man and a woman. His dark dreadlocks were tied back, and he bent his head to whisper into her ear. His arm was casually and lovingly relaxed across her shoulders. She leaned into him, giggling. Her black hair, long and straight, covered much of her shoulders and back.

              “Marcus! Lucy!” Blake called in cheerful greeting, ignoring Dylan’s sharp look of disapproval.

              The two turned at once and spotted them, wide grins breaking out across their faces. “Blake!” They echoed, raising hands in small waves. They were a little ahead of them and upwind. They hadn’t smelled them coming. They stopped where the paths met and waited for them to catch up before the four of them continued their walk together.

              “I trust you had a nice night?” Blake asked, one eyebrow raised as he smirked. He could tell that they had. He could smell it on them. If their smiles didn’t say it all, they reeked of hormones.

              They exchanged glances and smiles. “You could say that,” Marcus replied.

              “So this is your infamous mate,” Lucy said, leaning forward to eye Dylan around Blake.

              Blake made a show of slapping his forehead. “Where are my manners? Lucy, Marcus, this is Dylan. My mate.” He said, grinning proudly and raising their joined hands.

              Dylan leaned forward and gave them shy glances and a small wave. “Hi,” Was all he said. Blake’s chest clenched and it took all his self-control not to kiss the man right then and there. How was it possible that a macho looking sailor could be so cute? It simply wasn’t fair.

              “Dylan, this is Lucy and Marcus. Marcus works as a member of the shadow guard and Lucy is a personal shopper.”

              Dylan looked up at him. “Personal shopper?”

              He smiled. “You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get anything around here. The nearest towns are pretty far away, and there are a lot of people who’ve never had to shop online before.” He gestured to the tiger woman. “Lucy basically finds out what people want and then she shops for them. For a fee, of course.”

              Lucy grinned proudly and shrugged. “I get paid to shop. What could be better.”

              They walked the rest of the way with the other couple. To Blake’s relief, Dylan did wonderfully. He played the part of a shy mate well though Blake was starting to realize it wasn’t too much of an act. Dylan was no doubt uncomfortable. He had been suddenly thrust into an undercover operation where he had to play the part of an average werewolf with no preparation. He was in what he considered enemy territory, and he was expected to socialize like the average person. Luckily, his awkward uncomfortableness was easily seen as a shy awkwardness to anyone who didn’t know him.

              Marcus and Lucy asked him a few questions, which he answered vaguely. When they asked where he was from, Blake was surprised to hear him answer honestly. Dylan briefly described their childhood pack and spoke with such fondness that Blake had a hard time keeping his face blank. When they asked what he did for a living, Dylan just shrugged and said he was still trying to figure it out. They all laughed at that and Blake grinned, proud of the vague and relatable answer.

              The conversation stayed mostly on small talk. As they neared the castle, Blake asked Lucy if she wouldn’t mind shopping for a wardrobe for Dylan. Dylan was about to protest when Blake pointed out that he didn’t have any clothes or personal items here. Dylan reluctantly conceded, and Lucy laughed, happily accepting.

              They parted ways when they reached the castle. There were a lot of shifters shuffling back to the castle from the surrounding forests. They came in groups, couples, and alone. Some looked refreshed, and some looked exhausted. When they reached the compound, they said brief goodbyes before Marcus and Lucy headed toward their rooms. They had plenty of clothing and would no doubt get their things from their lockers later. Blake steered Dylan toward the locker room. He might have other clothes to wear, but Dylan didn’t.

              They got their things and headed for the stairs. Because Blake insisted on holding hands, Dylan insisted on carrying their things so he wouldn’t have anything putting pressure on his wound. He took them from Blake with a disgruntled look, and Blake merely smiled and thanked him, pressing a quick kiss to his temple. Blake directed them toward the grand main staircase. Now that Dylan knew what was going on, Blake preferred the main stairs. They got more casual exposure that way, without having to go out of their way to show Dylan’s face.

              Once in their room, Dylan wasted no time pulling on his boxers and sweat pants. While he did that, Blake went straight to his computer and ran the program he had created to search for surveillance devices within the parameters of his room. Then, feeling a little disappointed that Dylan’s ass was no longer in view, Blake went to his wardrobe and pulled out a clean pair of boxers and jeans. By the time he pulled them on and turned around, Dylan already had his shirt on, too.

              “What?” Dylan asked eyebrow raised.

              “Hm?”

              “You’re looking at me funny.”

              “I’m mourning the loss of your naked body.”

              Dylan sighed, deflating and sagging before standing up straight and turning away from him. “Sit.” He said, pointing at the couch.

              “Yessir,” Blake said, giving him a mock salute before sauntering over to the couch and draping himself across it. He sat at an angle, stretching his legs onto the coffee table, resting his left arm on the arm of the couch, and laying his right arm across the back. He was careful not to get blood on the couch.

              “Where do you keep your medical supplies?” Dylan asked, hands on his hips as he glanced around the room.

              Blake shrugged. “There might be some under the sink in the bathroom.”

              Dylan gave him a flat look. “You don’t actually know?”

              Blake tilted his head to the side, giving him an innocent and amused grin. “It’s not like I make a habit of hurting myself. I’m just your average computer geek.” As if on cue, his computer dinged, signaling that the room was clean. He’d never found anything in his room before, but it never hurt to be careful.

              Dylan sighed and went to the bathroom he shared with his neighbor. There was some rummaging before Dylan came back. He situated himself on the couch next to him and eyed his arm, setting the medical kit on the coffee table.

              Blake waited patiently as Dylan cleaned and bandaged his wound. He winced and complained whenever it stung; Dylan called him a baby and told him to shut it. Blake kept whining, of course, because Dylan looked like he was having fun teasing him. All in all, he was surprisingly gentle and went about bandaging his wound with careful precision.

              “There,” He said when he was finished.

              Blake held up his arm, eyeing the bandaged wrapped around his forearm, halfway between his wrist and elbow. “Thanks,” He said sincerely.

              Dylan looked away, putting the supplies back in the medical kit. “No problem.” He yawned.

              Blake eyed him, a small smirk playing across his lips. “Tired?”

              “No,” Dylan replied a little too quickly. He knew he was tired. Hell, Blake was tired, too. After the three days of a full moon, most shifters were exhausted. It came with the territory of being awake most of the night.

              “Come here,” Blake held out his arm, indicating that Dylan should lean into him.

              Dylan looked at him like he was crazy. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

              “I assure you, I’m not.” He made the motion again, but Dylan didn’t move. Blake rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m tired, you’re tired. Let’s take a nap.” When Dylan still didn’t move, Blake sighed and sat up. He grabbed the remote with his left hand and used his right to try to gently pull Dylan to him. The man didn’t budge. “Just … humor me. I can’t exactly force you down with this arm right now.” With a sigh of defeat, Dylan let Blake guide him down. Blake lowered himself further onto the couch, so he was lying down more and put a pillow behind his head. With his legs stretched along the couch, he situated Dylan between him and the back of the couch. The man shifted until he was comfortable, and finally rested on his side, snuggled up next to Blake. His head was on his shoulder, and his hand rested hesitantly on his bare chest. His leg was slightly pulled up over his thigh. The positioned mirrored the one they had woken up in. Blake smiled, letting himself relax into the couch. “There, see? Isn’t that comfortable?”

              Dylan merely grunted in response but didn’t move.

              Blake turned on the TV that was mounted on the wall. He left it at whatever channel it had been on last time he watched it. He didn’t really care. He wasn’t paying attention to it anyway. He wrapped both arms around Dylan, ignoring the way the man stiffened for a second before relaxing, and closed his eyes.

Blake woke up two hours later, feeling groggy and lethargic. He blinked dramatically, rubbing his eyes with his left hand. He had a hard time keeping his eyes open. They felt heavy and burned. His mouth was dry, and his tongue thick, and he licked his lips in an attempt to make the feeling go away. The TV still played in the background, but he didn’t even bother trying to figure out what was on.

              He was about to give up and go back to sleep when he felt a light tapping on his chest. He opened his eyes and lifted his head a fraction, looking down. He was surprised to find Dylan idly tapping his fingers on his chest. His head was tilted up to stare at him. His lips were pressed into a thin, irritated line, but his expression was amused.