The Love of a Mate (6 page)

The alpha didn’t even wait to hear his offer.
“Back to the house.
Now!”

Marsdon didn’t add that he didn’t want to set eyes on Alfred for the rest of the day. He didn’t have to. Alfred knew all that, and more, just from the tone of the older man’s voice. All the others had to know it too.

He looked at the other gammas. They all stood in a ragged line with him, facing their alpha, leaning on their shovels as they tried to regain their breath. Not one of them was willing to meet his eyes. Their complete attention remained on Marsdon.

There was no help to be found. Maybe Alfred had never given them reason to want to help him, but as they all seemed to turn their backs on him with perfect synchronicity, he’d never felt more alone in his life.

He took a step back, more from the feeling of being without a pack than anything else. Finally, one of the gammas moved.
Steffan’s
head began to turn towards him.

No! He couldn’t let the big oaf see any hint of fear in his eyes, any suspicion of weakness in his stance.
Far better to be considered a thoughtless bastard than a coward.
Spinning away from them all, Alfred cast his shovel aside as he turned tail and ran.

He raced back towards the house, mud clinging to every inch of him. There was only so far he could run before his feet slowed to little more than a stiff-limbed shuffle.

He trudged on, but the cold and the damp seemed to seep into his body even further with every step. He wrapped his arms around his torso, although it did little to keep out a chill that seemed to come from inside him as much as from outside.

“What happened?”

Alfred slowly lifted his gaze from the ground. Francis was rushing towards
him,
his eyes open wide with worry.

“The area we dammed up before we started working on the river diversion collapsed,” Alfred informed him, knowing he wouldn’t get a moment’s peace from the stupid little fool until he answered all his damn questions.

“Is anyone hurt?” the other wolf asked, the colour already draining from his face.

“
Steffan’s
fine,” Alfred snapped, knowing that was the question the other wolf really wanted to ask. Francis just wasn’t honest enough to admit he cared more for his mate than for any other member of the pack.

Storming into the house and slamming the door behind him, Alfred couldn’t help but think that if he was half as good as Francis was at telling all those appropriate little lies, the rest of the pack might like him just as much as they liked Francis.

Stripping off his mud-soaked clothes, Alfred tossed them in the vague direction of the already-overflowing laundry hamper in the corner of his bedroom and scrambled into the shower.

Hot water poured down over him. He scrubbed at his skin, leaving scratches and scrapes in his wake as he frantically tried to wash away both the mud and his mistakes at the same time. Soaping his hands, he lathered his skin, but the bubbles didn’t make him feel the least bit cleaner or any less like the pack’s resident screw-up.

He’d only looked away for one stupid little minute! One bloody minute when his thoughts of Caden had got the better of his focus on that stupid dam, and now…

Alfred shook his head, sending muddy water droplets splashing off his hair and running down the sides of the shower cubicle.

And now, reality was back. Forget about being Alfred the potential mate, Alfred the wolf that Caden might actually think was worth his interest. He was Alfred the screw-up, Alfred who couldn’t be trusted to do a single damn thing right in his entire life.

Dropping his head forward, he let his temple rest against the cold tiles. One tiny little lapse of concentration and everything was back to normal. If only he hadn’t been stupid enough to ever hope things could be different.

Alfred turned off the water and rubbed half-heartedly at his skin with a rough towel. Somehow, he gathered the energy to retrace his steps into his bedroom and pull on a fresh set of clothes, but his limbs felt like lead. Every movement took more effort than anything could ever be worth.

He was still sitting on the edge of his bed staring at nothing when he heard the rest of the pack arrive back at the house.

Taking advantage of those moments when they would no doubt be tucked away in their own rooms and cleaning themselves up, Alfred hauled himself to his feet. Within seconds, he’d sneaked unseen out of his bedroom, down the stairs and out of the house.

If Marsdon didn’t want to set eyes on him, fine. If the other wolves in the pack didn’t want to treat him like he was one of them, then that was bloody well fine too. Alfred didn’t need any of them. He scurried around the side of the building and quickly hid himself away in his favourite secluded little spot. No one was likely to come looking for him there. He sat down heavily on the overgrown grass and let out a sigh of relief.

The wall had been warmed by the sun. He was out of the fresh spring wind. And, most importantly, he was out of range of the rest of the pack’s annoyance. Right then, Alfred was pretty sure that was the most he could hope for from life. Closing his eyes, he rested his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in his hands.

It wasn’t that he cared what any of them thought of him, Alfred reminded himself. He didn’t, not even a little bit. They could all go to hell and—

“Why?”

Alfred jerked his head up, a growl building in his throat. This was his one safe refuge, and—

There was no one there. Frowning, Alfred looked all around him again. Leaning forward, he risked a peek around the edge of the building, too.
Nobody.
Finally he looked up. He’d never noticed that the alpha’s bedroom window was almost directly above his little hiding place before. Tucked away in the shadows at the base of the house, they wouldn’t see him if they looked out, but he’d heard Bennett’s voice, loud and clear.

 
“Why what?”
And that was Marsdon—obviously still pissed off as hell.

“Why wasn’t he watching the water levels?” Bennett asked, patiently. “He must have known how important it was. If he took his eyes off it, then he must have had a good—”

“He stopped watching it because he doesn’t give a damn about anyone but himself,” Marsdon cut in.

Alfred leant back against the wall just below their window and wrapped his arms a little more tightly around his knees. Words washed over him. They weren’t anything he hadn’t heard before. They weren’t lies, either. And he
didn’t
care about any of them, he reminded himself. Why should he?

“What the hell are we going to do with him?” Marsdon finally asked, a few minutes later. The alpha’s anger seemed to have drained away somewhat, or perhaps he had just run out of things to call Alfred. Even though Alfred hadn’t heard Bennett leave, Marsdon seemed to be talking more to himself than to his mate.

A frown grew between Alfred’s eyebrows as he stared at the ground right in front of his feet. The sadness in the alpha’s voice cut so much deeper than his anger.

Suddenly, Alfred heard Marsdon give a harsh little laugh. “I know that I’d like to throttle the little sod. But, since I’m pretty sure you’re not going to agree to just stand back and let me do that, tell me, pup—what are we going to do with him?”

Pup, Alfred thought, as he tipped his head back and let it connect heavily with wall behind him. Because, somehow, Bennett could act in ways an alpha wasn’t supposed to and yet still keep his place in the pack. Somehow everyone still saw him as an alpha, while Alfred was stuck being a—

“Alfred?”

Alfred looked up, half expecting to see one of the alphas leaning half-way out of the window and glaring down at him.
No one.
Alfred turned his head. Caden stood just a few feet away. He was downwind. There’d been no sound as he’d approached. Alfred had no way of knowing how long the other wolf had been there, spying on him, eavesdropping on a conversation he had no right to be privy to.

Caden held out a hand towards him, inviting him to stand up and close the gap between them. In no mood to play nicely, or approach him only to see another wolf turn away from him in disgust, Alfred stayed exactly where he was.

Eventually, Caden stepped forward, his hand still extended towards Alfred. “Are you okay?”

Alfred shrugged. His grip on his own hands turned white-knuckled as he pointedly ignored whatever trap Caden was trying to lay for him. “Why wouldn’t I be? Same shit, different day, that’s all.”

“Francis told me what happened out at the dam,” Caden admitted.

Alfred said nothing. Pointedly staring past him, he refused to even glace at
Caden’s
face, let alone reach out and put his hand in his. When gentle fingertips stroked along his jaw line, Alfred ignored that, too.

A chaste little kiss pressed to his opposite cheek was far harder to dismiss as entirely unimportant. Caden sat down next to him. His arm slipped around Alfred’s waist, determinedly wriggling its way between his spine and the rough stone wall until Alfred gave in and arched his back to make it easier for him.

The other gamma’s head came to rest on Alfred’s left shoulder as he curled in close to his side, and Caden let out a soft little sigh, as if he was finally exactly where he belonged. “I’m sorry you had such a bad day. I know you wouldn’t let something like that happen on purpose.”

The gently spoken words made it damn near impossible to ignore the other man’s presence. Not quite sure what to do with the sudden display of affection, Alfred looped his arm around
Caden’s
torso and clumsily welcomed him against his body, patting him vaguely on the shoulder with his right hand.

His left hand, without even bothering to check with his brain for permission, slid straight down to rest on
Caden’s
backside. Damn, but he had a glorious arse. Alfred’s fingers slid into the back pocket of
Caden’s
jeans and palmed the firm, round muscle.

His cock immediately began to harden behind his fly. All at once, Alfred knew exactly what he needed to distract him from his latest screw-up. And, since Caden seemed to be offering it up to him on a platter, it would hardly be polite to say no!

Alfred glanced down between their bodies. His wasn’t the only erection straining against a pair of tight blue jeans. Moving his right hand into
Caden’s
hair, he tugged at the pretty blond strands.

Caden tilted his head back and offered his lips up to be kissed without the slightest protest. With success pounding through his veins, Alfred dipped his head and brought their mouths together. The other wolf’s lips were soft and sweet against his.

Alfred lapped against them, eager to get more of that taste. Caden parted his lips willingly enough and
mewed
his approval into the kiss as their tongues slid against each other in an intimate little dance.

Hands roving more and more frantically over the other wolf’s body by the moment, he tugged at
Caden’s
clothes, desperate to yank them out of the way and get at the skin beneath.
Caden’s
hands slid between their bodies and pressed against Alfred’s T-shirt, but he didn’t seem to have a clue what he was doing. His touch was hindering rather than helping.

Alfred growled his frustration into the kiss, nipping at
Caden’s
lips as he sought for a way to remind the other man exactly who was in charge.

Caden mumbled something against his mouth. He pushed harder at Alfred’s chest. Quickly losing all patience with him, Alfred twisted their bodies around so Caden was pinned down against the sun-warmed grass right alongside the foot of the house.

That should have settled everything. In Alfred’s mind it certainly made everything very simple, made the whole world seem very right. But Caden merely wriggled all the more, as if trying to squirm away from him. That was a bloody stupid thing to do. There was no logical reason on Earth why anyone would want to put even the smallest amount of empty air between two bodies that felt so marvellous when pressed tightly together.

He caught hold of
Caden’s
wrist and pinned it to the grass. That felt so good. He did exactly the same with his other hand, trapping the slightly smaller man with his entire body as he tried to deepen the kiss.

Pleasure built quickly inside Alfred, pushing away the accusing looks from the other wolves and
Marsdon’s
harsh words. None of that mattered when he was there with Caden, and—

Suddenly the other wolf wrenched his head to one side, breaking the kiss. For the first time, Alfred noticed that Caden was struggling to pull his hands out of his grip.

That was wrong. “What the hell?” Every instinct in Alfred’s soul suddenly went into reverse. Letting go of the other man’s wrists, Alfred moved both his hands to
Caden’s
face and stilled his head. Tightening his grip as Caden railed against it, Alfred made Caden look up at him, determined to meet his gaze and find out what the hell was going on, why his lover wasn’t submitting to him the way they both knew he should.

“We can’t,” Caden whispered. He closed his eyes for a moment, but not before Alfred saw the touch of pain in them.

Newfound impulses screamed at him to find out what was wrong with his mate’s world and fix it. “What are you talking about? We can’t what? Why?”