The Love of a Mate (7 page)

Caden cleared his throat. When he opened his eyes, he looked up at the sky as if fighting very hard to concentrate on what he needed to say. “We can’t do this.”

“Why not?”
Alfred repeated, impatience creeping into his voice.

Caden took a deep breath. “Today, at the works by the river—”

Alfred frowned. “You said you…” He snatched his hand away from
Caden’s
face and scrambled away from him until there were several feet of empty air between them. Anger rushed through him, searing hot and desperate to burst out through the most vicious words he could frame, but he barely had time to open his mouth before Caden was speaking again.

“I said I knew you wouldn’t let that happen on purpose. I know you’re better than that. I know that you’re a good wolf, a strong wolf,” Caden said, as he sat up. “But, until I can trust that
you
know that—we can’t do this,
not…not
like this.”

Alfred looked down at the way Caden had wrapped his own fingers around his wrist as he fought for the right words. Alfred had held him like that, and it had felt so right, so perfect, and… He closed his eyes as he turned his face away from the other wolf.

He could hide from the sight of him, but there was no way to hide from
Caden’s
scent. It howled the other wolf’s desire for him. Alfred was almost willing to swear he could smell his desire to submit hanging in the air around them.

But that wasn’t the only thing.
Confusion.
Uncertainty.
Regret. There were so many other emotions—things that had no place being in either of their minds when they mated for the first time.

“Every wolf is born belonging to a pack,” Caden suddenly said.

“Don’t you think I know that—?” Alfred began.

“But he’s also born belonging to himself,” Caden went on, as if he hadn’t even heard the interruption. When Alfred turned his head, the other wolf met his eyes without hesitation. “And some wolves keep possession of themselves for their whole lives, and they are happy that way.”

Alfred didn’t try to speak up again when Caden paused. His throat had closed up so tightly, Alfred could barely push air, let alone words through it. The idea of giving up ownership of himself made him want to leap up and tear the throat out of the whole world. But the idea of taking another wolf under his protection and making that wolf his…

Caden seemed to think for a long time before he finally went on, and Alfred had no choice but to wait. “There are other wolves that can’t be happy that way. They have to give away part of themselves and they have to hand over control of themselves to another wolf. I’m not happy belonging to myself, Alfred. But I won’t put myself in your hands until I can be sure that you know what a good wolf you are.”

The thought of Caden belonging to him that way, of him not just being his mate but of being
his
…

Alfred tightened his hands into fists, pulling blades of grass up by the roots as he fought against the urge to reach out, pounce on Caden and hold him so tightly no one would ever be able to tear them apart. A wolf like Caden could have anyone, and…

“You mean until I can convince the pack that—” Alfred stopped short as Caden moved closer.

The other wolf didn’t bother to rise to his feet. He simply crawled forward until he was kneeling right in front of Alfred, almost touching him.

“Will the pack realise you’re a good wolf once you realise it?” Caden mused. “Yes, I think they will. But it’s not their opinion of you I care about.”

Alfred could only stare into the very serious blue eyes in response.
Caden’s
eyes were full of so many emotions it was as impossible for Alfred to decipher them there as it had been in
Caden’s
scent. He had no idea what the other wolf might see in his own gaze—all he knew was that he needed to make sure there was never any pain, never any sadness in
Caden’s
eyes, ever again.

That was his job now. And if the only way he could convince Caden to allow him close enough to be able to do his job properly was to play nicely with the rest of the pack, then…

“That’s really what you want?” he checked.

Caden nodded, holding his gaze. His eyes and his scent both screamed he was telling the truth.

“What do I need to do to convince you?” Alfred asked. Whatever it was, he’d do it. In that moment, Alfred had no doubt about his ability to do that. Screwing this up wasn’t an option.

Caden hesitated. He dropped his gaze back down to where he grasped his own wrist with his opposite hand.

Alfred shook his head at himself. Suddenly, it was obvious he shouldn’t even be asking Caden questions like that. He should be the one making the decisions. Proving he could do what he was told wouldn’t mean anything. He had to prove he could make the right decisions for them both, that he could be the one telling Caden the right things to do.

What would a good wolf, a good mate, do now…?

“Maybe,” Caden began.

“No,” Alfred cut in. “It’s fine.” He pulled himself up to his feet. “I know what I’m doing. I can sort it all out. You don’t need to worry about it.”

Caden blinked up at him as Alfred stood over him, but it wasn’t the usual flirtatious flutter of lashes. Very slowly, the other gamma nodded, as if he was more than willing to simply accept that pronouncement.

Success rushed through Alfred. He half turned away. Then, he hesitated. Unable to leave
Caden’s
side without doing
something
, and knowing full well he couldn’t do what he really wanted, Alfred crouched down and pressed a brief, chaste kiss against
Caden’s
temple.

“Everything will be fine,” he whispered.

As he straightened up and turned away from his future mate, Alfred repeated those words inside his head.
Everything will be fine.

They’d sounded a lot more confident when they were spoken outside his head than inside it, but he couldn’t let that matter right then. The only thing he could think about was what a good mate would do, what a wolf who knew he was a good wolf would do.

* * * *

“You always have had bloody awful taste in men, but I think even you outdid yourself this time.”

Caden stopped relaxing back next to the stream running through the forest and sat up straight. Leaning forward, he peered past the foliage just in time to see his brother step out from behind the bushes.

There was a growl in Gunnar’s voice. Maybe it was from his recent shift, maybe he was just randomly pissed off. Caden didn’t give the matter too much thought. Reclining comfortably back against the old tree trunk once more, he simply concentrated on the way the last of the evening sun caressed his bare skin and the pure wonderfulness of the world.

All he had to do was stay away from the farmhouse a little longer, give Alfred a little bit more time and space to decide on his next move, and he’d be able to make his way home to his future mate’s side, all sleepy and snuggly.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” Gunnar asked as he walked past him, his naked skin splattered with mud from his run.

“Alfred’s a good wolf,” Caden offered. It was almost impossible for him not to grin like a loon as he said it. Who could ever have guessed that he’d come on so quickly—that just the mildest hints would have him leaping up and
sprinting
in the right direction?

True, pushing him away had been the hardest thing Caden had done in his life, but—

“You mean he will be a good wolf when you’ve finished screwing him into submission?” Gunnar demanded. Crouching down at the river’s edge he dipped his hand into the water and scooped up a few mouthfuls with his palm.

Caden’s
eyes narrowed as he glared at his brother’s back, but by the time Gunnar had turned back to him he had once more schooled his features into something passive and more suitable for dealing with the beta. “What makes you so sure he’s the one who’ll be submitting to me?”

Gunnar let out a harsh burst of laughter. “Even you’ve got more sense than to let him play the dominant with you. The man’s a fool. No, worse than that—he’s a sadistic little bastard towards anyone weaker than him whenever he thinks he can get away with it.”

“Strange, then,” Caden mused, “that I’ve never known him to take a cheap shot at Talbot.”

“He wouldn’t dare,” Gunnar growled, immediately rising to his full height to loom over anyone who would even mention such a possibility.

“Not even before Talbot came under your direct protection?” Caden asked, not in the least bit daunted by the other wolf’s blustering.

“What?” Gunnar demanded.

“I’m pretty sure Alfred had no idea you were even remotely interested in our omega until you two were formally mated,” Caden said. “But I’ve still never heard him snap at Talbot the way he does at everyone else. Don’t you think it strange that out of all the wolves in the pack, it’s the one that everyone agrees he should outrank who’s never had anything to worry about where Alfred is concerned?”

“I think he’s strange in far more ways than that,” Gunnar said.

As Caden stared mildly up at him, the beta’s hackles slowly seemed to go down.

“Why him?”
Gunnar finally asked, as he crouched and brought them closer to the same height.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Caden said, idly running his fingers through the moss at his side. “Talbot’s no more my type than Alfred’s yours.”

“Even mentioning their names in the same breath is a bloody insult,” Gunnar snapped, as he threw himself onto the ground next to Caden and glared up at the sky as if the pretty little patch of blue and the warmth of the sunlight had both been created specifically to annoy him.

“Alfred’s a far better wolf than any of our pack realises,” Caden told the clearing, the riverbank and anything else within earshot. They were all more likely to take any notice of his words than Gunnar was.

Right on cue,
Caden’s
brother
huffed
his disbelief.

“I see more than you ever will when you look at him,” Caden said, resting his head back against the tree and forcing his words to remain calm no matter how much he wanted to howl them loud enough for everyone he’d ever met to hear.

“And what would you see if you looked at the mess down by the river? It was a simple job, Caden.”

“Far too simple for a wolf with Alfred’s potential,” Caden pointed out. “But as for what I see…” He thought about that for a while. “I just see what any wolf would be able see if they cared enough to look. I see a faltering step on a young shifter’s path towards becoming a good wolf.”

“A damn spinning top would take a more direct route,” Gunnar muttered. With a half sigh, he pushed himself off the ground. He’d barely reached his full height when he started to morph back into his lupine form.

Caden held his brother’s eyes as the more overtly
wolfen
side of the other man dropped onto all fours before him.

Gunnar turned away, obviously bored with the topic and intending to resume his run now he’d apparently confirmed to his own satisfaction his little brother wasn’t going to do as he was told without one hell of a fight.

Caden waited until his older brother was at the tree line before he called out to him.
“Gun?”

The wolf stopped and looked back towards him.

“You know the interesting thing about spinning tops?”

The wolf’s gaze remained steady.

“They never set themselves spinning out of control. It’s other people who do that. The thing itself doesn’t actually have any choice in the matter, does it?”

Caden took Gunnar’s pissed-off growl as a signal that his words had been heard, even if he was sure their actual meaning had gone straight over Gunnar’s head.

Pulling his knees up in front of him, Caden drew a line on the bare skin along one of his thighs. His fingertip went around and around in a complex little pattern. His eyes followed its every movement. Just like a spinning top, there was no real way for him to work out in advance where the pattern would go next, all he could do was watch carefully and pray.

Finally,
Caden
caught hold of the fingertip with his other hand and held it still, unable to watch its progress for another second. His eyes dropped closed. His grip on his own finger gradually turned painful. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he closed them tighter.

Perhaps it wasn’t entirely impossible to give the top a little push in the right direction—if a wolf were careful and subtle and…

Caden opened his eyes. He’d been away from Alfred’s side for quite long enough. Rising gracefully to his feet, he quickly completed his own shift and set off in the opposite direction to his brother.

Within minutes the farmhouse was within sight. He let his paws carry him straight through the kitchen door without bothering to turn back into his human form. Voices floated out from the main hall as he passed the kitchen table. Tilting his head slightly to one side as he forced his lupine senses to pay attention and make sense of the human words, he made his way forward.

“…Alfred…”