21. Jeffrey

Mutt's scars haunted me. They took a good week to heal, and all the while, I did my damndest to find a solution to the pesky-moon problem. I had less than a month before the next moon, which meant I didn't have all that much time.

I buckled down.

And between my hunts for information, Mutt sent me texts. Cute pictures. Images of squirrels he found out and about. Of gnomes he'd been tempted to steal, probably. Of his hand, holding a broken Pop Tart. Of his bed, empty without us in it. Of each of his brothers, with no captions, though I could feel the love he felt for them without words needed at all.

It was a chilly, stormy day when I stumbled upon a lead that made my stomach churn.

"Do you know anything about mates?" I asked Avery, jerking my way into his office. He'd just finished up with a client, a nice lady who'd been cursed to speak backwards. Avery's eyes narrowed in thought as he tapped his lip, then made a startled face when he realized he'd been elbows deep in a vat of frog warts and hadn't taken off his gloves.

He gagged, bolted away, and returned five minutes later scrubbed clean, his hair a spiky mess.

"Sorry. What were you asking me?"

"Mates?" My heart pounded. It hadn't stopped pounding. Not since I'd opened one of the new books he'd gotten me and stumbled upon a page that talked about them. "Do you know?—"

"Werewolf mates?" Avery frowned, twisting to look at me. "I know a little, yes."

And then we just kinda stared at each other. Avery blinked, long lashes fluttering, and I made a sound like a kettle reaching a boil. I was normally a pretty patient person, but even I had my limits.

"Are you gonna fucking tell me? Or just keep jerking my dick off, or what?" I didn't mean to be rude, but fuck. I felt like I was going to die.

Avery snorted out an amused laugh. "You remind me of my sister," he said fondly, and then his frown returned. "What do you want to know?"

"Let's start with everything."

Apparently he'd been doing some reading of his own, because he sure as shit knew a lot more today than he had when I'd first asked him for information.

According to Avery, because Mutt was an alpha, he needed a mate. An official one. Someone who would keep his wolf under wraps. It was a soul bond. Something that couldn't be constructed with artificial magic, and something so ancient even the witches hardly knew anything about it. There was a ceremony that Avery didn't know the details of, only that it was important, and something only wolfkind shared.

The most important thing I learned about mates, however, was the fact that humans couldn't be one. At least, according to Avery.

We didn't have a wolf inside to bond with.

Which was just…fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

That night when I went home I curled up with Mutt-the-dog in bed, his fur tickling my nose, and tried not to die. I hadn't felt this helpless since that day when I was a kid and I'd watched Blair scarf down the rolls I'd stolen for him and knew there was nothing I could do to stop him from getting locked up again.

Avery helped where he could. I spent way too fucking long on the dark web. Before, I'd avoided the local hunting lodges and libraries like the plague because of their association with Lydia, and the fear that I'd run into some of our old colleagues. But the second I'd learned about Mutt's condition, all those anxieties flew out the window, and I found myself planning trips out to visit local hunters to see what they knew.

Eventually I'd try the two big lodges, but for now, I avoided them. I didn't necessarily want to draw a whole bunch of attention to us, because even though I didn't know much about the moons and their pull—I did know about hunting laws.

And hunting laws dictated that a feral alpha werewolf was fair game. The second they got stuck in their wolfskin they had twelve hours to be claimed by a Pack Alpha who was willing to be responsible for them or…they'd get killed.

Blair helped where he could, Richard did too.

Even Collin helped—though his help was kinda more of a hindrance than anything else, because he was always fucking hungry and had the attention span of a goldfish.

I learned a lot that first week. More of the books I'd asked Avery for came in, and I pulled two all-nighters in a row pouring over the information in them. Mutt kept having to remind me to eat, and neither of us mentioned the fact that my "dog" never showed up when he was around.

I wanted to save him.

And I thought…maybe if I searched long and hard enough, I'd find a way for us to get around the whole pesky humans-can't-bond-with-wolves thing.

Because even though I'd told my therapist I wasn't ready for a relationship, I'd realized how fucking wrong that was. And I wanted to keep Mutt. I wanted to keep him. To make him happy. To give him all the smiles he asked for. And my only shot at that was if I could figure this shit out before he had to go home in January.

At one point, sleep deprived and staring blankly at the last page of the last book Avery had ordered in for me, I wondered why fate was a cruel heartless bitch. Because wolves weren't like vampires. I couldn't just fill out a paper and ask the council for permission to become one. Wolves were born, not turned.

And these books were fucking useless.

When I wasn't searching for answers, I spent all the time I could with Mutt.

And he was as adorable as ever.

After our intense, awful, horrible conversation in my kitchen, Mutt pretended as though nothing was wrong. He watched a shitty horror movie with me, asked me about a zillion questions—because he didn't understand half of it—and snuggled with me on the couch till well after three, stroking fingers beside my stitches like he was still worried. Mutt rumbled and purred, nuzzling into my throat, behind my ears, back down my spine and to my ass.

He pulled my pants down and licked me clean, running his tongue over my hole over and over and over till I was twitchy and wet and humping the couch cushions. He fucked my thighs—aided by the lube he'd given me, which I procured from "sex basket". And as he fucked me in earnest, his grunts and growly voice rumbled against the back of my neck. "Lube is the best invention ever."

And he was right.

After Mutt "left for the night" he'd even went as far as to show up to my front door in his wolfskin pretending to be my dog again. I pretended too—letting him in with a big grin and a pet to his furry head.

He looked…emaciated. Weak. The same way his human form had. But he was chipper as ever, woofing at me happily as he padded into our bedroom and curled up on our bed to wait for me while I brushed my teeth and stripped down for bed.

So many times I was tempted to tell him I knew.

But I didn't.

Because at the end of the day, if he needed this distance—I figured the least I could do was let him keep it. At least…for now. Besides, I didn't have it in me to confront him right now. Not when every spare ounce of energy I possessed was spent on trying to fix this shitty, awful situation.

I'd promised .

I wasn't even sure Mutt knew how much danger he was in. If the moons were getting stronger, and more painful—that only really meant one thing. I couldn't stomach the idea that one day he'd get stuck. That he'd be put down.

And I just…

When I thought about a world without Mutt in it, I just— no .

No, no, no.

Sleepless nights. Manic days. I did my best not to break. I even considered calling Lydia at one point—which…as you can guess was a clear indicator that I'd hit rock bottom.

"No fucking way," had been Blair's response when I brought it up to him. " No ."

"No," Mutt had echoed when I'd mentioned it to him afterward. "No."

"No," Richard had said, when I'd gone to him after talking to Mutt.

But still, I considered it.

I considered it long and hard.

I considered it long enough to buy plane tickets to Oregon, to the airport nearest to the prison where she was being held.

Unfortunately for all of us, Mutt still had to work on negotiations. He told me he was already doing the bare minimum, and while that was fine and dandy, I still hated any second he was away from me. Though, we did spend as much time together as we possibly could. Going on adventures, trying new things I'd never done before because my therapist had suggested it, eating cheeseburgers, and splashing around in the icy-as-fuck ocean.

Mutt came to every single one of my open-mic nights.

He sat in the front row and cheered loudly—no longer lurking in the back like the creepy stalker he'd been. He brought me flowers every time. Flowers I wasn't sure he hadn't stolen, but appreciated all the same.

But still…the impending moon hung over our heads.

And by the time it rolled around, and Mutt disappeared again, I hadn't come up with jack shit to help with anything.

Miserable, annoyed, and defeated, I lay alone in my bed, staring up at the popcorn ceiling. Across town, Mutt was tied up in the basement of the little cottage he and his brothers had rented from the local pack. He was hurting. He was lost.

And I couldn't…I couldn't do anything about it.

Couldn't mate with him.

Couldn't ease his pain.

Because I'd rather be high than deal with the turmoil of my thoughts, I lay in my bed and contemplated my options. It'd been a long day of a whole lot of nothing. Thanksgiving was only a couple weeks away now—the first snowfalls had already begun—and my thoughts were spinning. The wrapper of the joint in my hand crinkled as I pinched it and sighed.

The merry-go-round spun and spun and spun.

I thought about white sneakers.

About mistakes.

About forgiveness.

And then I lit up and blew my worries away. The weed helped me straighten out the tangles in my head. Helped me reach clarity. Helped me make sense of the things that eluded me.

It centered me.

Reminded me to breathe.

To relax.

To be present.

It also made me horny.

Super fucking horny.

By the time I'd finished my joint and snuffed out its withered remains I was floating. Sometimes it took a while to kick in fully, but I'd taken my sweet time with every puff, and so I was fully sunk in foggy bliss as I lay back on the mattress and let my mind—and hands—wander.

Like my thoughts always did lately, they found their way back to Mutt.

To his stupid sunny smile.

To his stupid floppy hair.

To his hands.

A man's hands.

Veiny, big, scratchy. And those claws—holy fuck. There was nothing human about those fucking claws. Even though I had limited hunting knowledge when it came to werewolves, I'd met enough of them working at Avery's shop that I knew Mutt's partially shifted appearance was abnormal.

More comfortable as a wolf than he was as a man—to the point that he almost never fully shifted into human form. Always some sort of hybrid mix. Hairy. Claw-y. Fang-y.

It shouldn't have turned me on the way it did.

Especially since, by all accounts, I'd never been attracted to a man before I'd met him. Not the way I was with him. This weird fucking itch beneath my skin every time I saw him and he wasn't touching me.

I pushed away thoughts of the future, too stressed and high to think about anything other than fuzzy happy trails and Mutt's knot.

I groaned, threading my fingers in my short hair as my free hand slid down my torso. As high as I was, my wandering thoughts were more tantalizing than frustrating. They slipped away as quickly as they'd come as I focused on the brush of my palm, the tickle of my fingertips as I pushed beneath the waistband of my boxers and reached for my dick.

The skin was soft and dry after my shower, almost velvety to the touch as I curled my fingers around the base of my dick and held it snug, lashes fluttering. Sometimes I liked to do that. Just hold it. Feel my dick grow hard in my grasp. Feel the veins twitch, my cock flex.

I bit my lip to hold in any sound, a habit I'd learned young.

"Fuck," I hissed quietly through my teeth as I pictured what might happen if Mutt came home now. If he saw me. Saw my hand between my legs, my head tossed back, my eyes flooded with heat. Would he like what he saw? I hoped so.

God.

I really, really did.

I spread my legs wider, my imagination running wild. Mutt would growl. I knew he would. That sexy little rumble he did when he got turned on. Low and sweet. His eyes would be black with lust. His thick chest would heave. And if I looked between his legs I'd see the shape of his cock, hard and needy, listing to the left like it was doing its best to point at me despite its fabric prison.

My cock jerked and I gave it a tight squeeze, nipples tingling.

Mutt would say something stupid. Something sweet. Something about how pretty I looked with my legs spread—about how much he liked my dick when it was hard—even though he couldn't see it.

He'd crawl across the bed.

He'd beg to touch.

Beg to taste.

Beg to feel me.

Call me his bitch and try to mount me.

And when I pinched his knot he'd sob the way he always did, knot-drunk and horny, tucked tight inside my body.

I came with a stuttered gasp, hot and wet across my fingers. My lashes fluttered and I sighed blissfully, letting the rest of my fantasy play behind my lids. Mutt would lick me clean. He'd suck the sweat from my skin, lap up the cum like it was a treat. My cock jerked pitifully in response.

And then he'd spoon me.

Hold me close.

Nuzzle the back of my neck and whisper pretty words in my ear.

He'd make me feel special. Me . Not the golden boy. Not the kidnapped kid who had no choice but to be perfect. Just me. Terrified, bitter, ugly me. Made beautiful, when he looked my way.

I'd sleep.

I'd sleep and there would be no more nightmares.

There'd be no need for bolts on the door.

No need for wolves and mates and Lydia.

I'd be his forever.

I'd be safe.

When I woke up my mouth was dry as hell and my head hurt. Water. I needed water. I stumbled groggily to my feet, grimaced at the state of my hand, and promptly went into the bathroom to shower.

Then I chugged what felt like a gallon of water before stumbling back to bed in a daze.

I'd missed Blair when he was gone. Missed him desperately, especially for those few months I'd thought I'd never see him again. But this was a different kind of ache. It burned me from the inside out. Made my eyes burn, and my teeth itch.

A week passed and it felt like hell.

My brothers did their best to distract me, but even they gave up after a while, because I was a miserable, awful grouch. Scrooge on crack, really. Werewolf-loving scrooge McAsshole. Blair did give me another baggie of bud though—because he was the best—so at least I had that.

On the seventh Mutt-less day, Avery—because he was Avery—sent me home with a pat on the back and a box of tea. "You're driving me insane," he said gently, looking cheerful as always with a lizard sitting on his shoulder. "Go home. You're done for the day."

Banished, I did as I was told.

Though I wasn't happy about it.

I was exhausted and overworked—and there was no end in sight. Because no matter how hard and long I looked, I never found the answers I wanted. Mutt still needed a wolf for a mate. And I couldn't find any information that pointed otherwise.

I couldn't be what he needed me to be.

Even though I would in a heartbeat if I could.

I missed him.

I missed him so fucking much.

So I stomped all the way home in a huff, ignoring the buzzing in my pocket and the barrage of texts I had yet to answer. Probably Blair asking how I was doing again—or Collin telling me about the episode of Drag Race he was watching, or Richard telling me it'd take another fucking week to fix my truck—I was starting to wonder if Joe had even fucking worked on the damn thing. Or the random plethora of people from Oregon I still needed to fucking block.

If I could burn the fucking device, I would. But then I wouldn't see pictures of Blair's cat anymore, or those weird jokes he kept sending me. And what if Mutt texted me—what if he woke up and he couldn't move and he needed me? What if he found another squirrel and I fucking missed it because I was too busy angsting?

No.

No.

I kinda needed my phone.

Was it unrealistic to contemplate blocking everyone I had in my phone besides Mutt and my family? Maybe. But it made my cold, black heart warm just thinking about it. I'd delete everyone on Facebook. Block all the assholes. Erase the people from my life systematically that had always made me feel like I had to put up a front.

I ate dinner in silence.

Again.

And even playing the guitar didn't help my foul mood. I'd been plunking around writing a new song lately—with my new pencil—and I was nearly done with it. I could admit that I was more than a little excited to show Mutt, as he was kinda my biggest fan. But even the daydream of his reaction wasn't enough to cheer me up. So… After showering and crawling into bed I lit up another joint and let my thoughts wander. It was easier to control the darkness that lurked beneath my skin like this.

Pleasure was an excellent distraction.

The only thing that worked, honestly.

My cock was ready before I even touched it, like it sensed what we were about to do. Where my mind was about to wander.

Big hands.

Brilliant blue eyes.

A fat fucking cock, all flushed and hard.

Would he fuck my fist?

Would he fuck my mouth?

Would he fuck my?—

"Ohhhh," a deep, needy growl echoed through the room, and I was jolted out of my fantasy. My eyes flashed open, immediately clocking the open window, and the dark figure that loomed in front of it. Triangular ears flattened along the top of the wolf-man's head, his tail wagging, his eyes glowing sapphire in the dark.

"Mutt," I gasped, surprised, pissed, and pleased all at once.

He's okay.

He's here.

He came.

My toes curled and my cock leaked against my palm as I gave it a squeeze and tipped my head to face him better. Even hidden in the shadows I could make out his shape, his shoulders and hips, his legs parted to accommodate the thick cock that nestled between them.

He rumbled hungrily.

Like a predator.

And I couldn't help but preen.

Mutt looked exhausted. Worse than the last moon. But beautiful all the same. The bruises beneath his eyes only served to make them somehow brighter. And though he was thinner than usual, he was still massive, crowding in front of the window like a fucking creeper—like he didn't have a key to the front door at all.

"You forget about doors?" I teased. I hardly recognized my own voice; it was so hoarse.

"This was easier." Mutt's tone was gravelly low. It lit me up from the inside out, heat pooling low in my belly. I'd never asked for my key back, and I never intended to. He wore it around his neck on a string, and that made me way too fucking happy.

" Liar ," I taunted him, the way he always taunted me. A fresh drop of precum slicked the inside of my palm as I rubbed it in a gentle circle along the top of my cock. "You knew what I was doing." I bit my lip and Mutt growled softly, his fangs flashing. "Probably watched me from the fucking window before you came in."

"You are right," he admitted, hands twitching at his sides. His claws flashed as he clenched his hands into fists. Probably so he didn't reach out and touch without permission. "I knew. I could smell how much you wanted me. Your mouth is full of lies, but your scent betrays you. I can practically taste how needy you are." Mutt's nostrils flared and he sucked in a deep, greedy breath.

"Fuck, that's hot." The idea that Mutt had been chasing the scent of my arousal was just…fuuuck yes. Made me feel needy and hot. My hole clenched and I stared at him, unable to help myself.

I missed you.

I missed you, I missed you, I missed you.

Stared at the shadows beneath his eyes. The luminous flicker of his familiar gaze. The way he stared at me like I was something worth staring at, scars and all. I spread my legs wider, lashes fluttering as I met his gaze. I'd wanted him here. I'd wanted him here so very badly—and…here he was. It was odd.

I'd never been a lucky person, but Mutt made me feel like I was.

Maybe I'd saved all my luck for the day he found me.

I licked my lips, my hips jerked, cock flexing toward him like it was magnetized. I wanted him inside me. Wanted to feel more than just the thick tip of his cock. Wanted to submit to him so badly I ached for it. But I didn't know how to ask.

"I wanted to see you," Mutt admitted. The dirty fucking perv. "To touch you."

"Of course you did," my balls were literally tingling. "Probably wanted to stick your greedy tongue in my ass again, huh, big guy?"

" Yes ," Mutt hissed, his fangs flashing again. He was trembling with the effort of holding back. That huge fucking body, and he was entirely at my mercy.

"Wanted to get inside me in whatever way you can."

Mutt nodded, jerky and happy. His tail wagged, appearing out of nowhere, his wolf ears flicking toward me, eyes dark with lust.

God.

This was trippy.

Really fucking trippy.

And relieving. Because Mutt being here meant he'd survived another moon. And I figured…we both deserved some much-needed relaxation. I had never in all my life wanted something more than I wanted that goddamn stupid wolf in my bed. And now I had him, I intended to make the most of it.