Chapter Five

M icah slept late and woke up laughing at himself. "Did I really promise to keep a pack of werewolves safe? Jesus fucking Christ." Micah had enough trouble keeping himself safe, let alone adding players to his team.

Except for Anna. He'd do whatever it took to keep her safe, even if it destroyed him.

He lay on the damned uncomfortable mattress, head cradled in a pillow made by Satan, and wondered how the fuck he'd keep his word. It was one thing to let Anders know he was some unspecified form of supernatural creature, but quite another to demonstrate his talents in front of a fully shifted pack of werewolves in party mode.

"What the hell was I thinking?"

There was no good answer for that, so he got up and showered. Anders, Delilah, and Potter were at the picnic table, and he could tell from their body language that the discussion was serious. He could have gone out there and helped reassure them all that he would be true to his word.

Except he wasn't one hundred percent sure himself.

Instead, he set up his laptop on the table and ran a thorough check of his security system. All the cameras were online and all the lasers were fully powered. Then he did a search for first- person descriptions of a werewolf's first shift, which led him down the kind of research rabbit hole the internet did so well. Basically, all he learned was that it was a group event, with the pack's Alpha assisting the young wolf and the rest of them keeping the kid safe.

He wasn't surprised that there was so little specific information. Werewolves were secretive, and even when most people lived their lives online, some things were considered sacred.

"This is all fucking useless." Micah flopped back in his seat, hands still on the keyboard but with no idea what to type. "You're much better at screwing people over than saving them."

And there it was. His truth, the one he tried hard to ignore. He'd had reasons, sure. Good reasons, even. Anna's safety mattered more than the stain on his soul left by acts he never would have considered without a demon on his tail.

There were powers on this earth bigger and uglier than the worst werewolf or the most well-intentioned polymorph. He'd run afoul of one such power, and he'd paid the price.

He could only hope the debt was truly repaid.

"Okay, time for a subject change." He flexed his fingers. The air was chilly even though the baseboard heater was cranked up as high as it could go. More cars had arrived, and the wolves were barbecuing again. As hungry as the smell of roasted beef made him, he stayed in the cabin. He liked this face, and the more people who saw it, the sooner he'd have to get rid of it.

He was pretty sure Anders liked this face, too, which gave him an additional incentive to keep it.

Instead of barbecued steak, he made himself supper out of a package of noodles and some frozen stir-fried vegetables that were left over from the last time he'd been there. "Put enough soy sauce on anything and it's edible."

While the noodles cooked, he got into his management company files and looked up Delilah's last name. He wanted to find out anything he could about this Jeremy dude, though his plan hit a hitch because Delilah's last name was Montgomery, the same as Anders'.

"Damn."

It took some more digging, but eventually he connected enough of the dots to find the guy. Jeremy wasn't on a list of The Ten Most Likely to Fuck with Werewolves, but Micah had learned enough.

Delilah's baby daddy had a high school education and a couple of brushes with the legal system. He'd worked as a mechanic, though his current employer was unknown. From what Micah could tell, hooking up with Delilah might have been the best thing that ever happened to the guy. It was also a testament to the old saw, "The heart wants what it wants," because while Micah hadn't talked to her much, Delilah seemed way too put together to hook up with a loser like her ex.

Yeah, awkward . Micah could relate to him to an uncomfortable degree. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to let you fuck things up, my dude."

Because, somehow, he'd committed to the idea that he, Micah-Corbin-Whatever, was going to make sure that Anders' niece had her werewolf quincea?era.

Night fell, and his guests followed their Alpha into the woods. Wishing he had a second computer monitor, Micah brought up as many camera feeds as he could fit on his screen. The lasers would trigger an alarm if anyone crossed them, but he wanted to see which direction the interlopers were coming from if that happened.

It didn't take long.

The alarm went off, a high-pitched squeal that set Micah's teeth on edge. He tapped his laptop screen, enlarging the image of a car. It rolled along an old gravel logging road that ran parallel to the highway, about a mile behind the cabins.

The driver had the headlights off and couldn't have been going more than fifteen miles an hour.

And then the car stopped.

The driver got out, carrying a light of some kind in one hand and what might have been a rifle in the other. Thick trees grew between the driver and the cabins.

The wolves were somewhere in that forest

"Fuck's sake," Micah muttered. Someone needed to stop that asshole before he did something they'd all regret.

And Micah was the only person who knew where the guy was.

Goddamn it .

He enlarged the view of the car further, then panned out to fix the location in his mind. Moved to the door. Let himself out of the cabin and closed his eyes. Between one breath and the next, he'd made it through the room-out-of-time, and when he returned, he'd taken on the shape of a hawk.

With three powerful wing-strokes, he made it above the trees. He loved this. The incredible speed and the rush of air intoxicated him, and for a moment, he lost himself. He wanted nothing more than to fly as far and as fast as possible.

A moving speck of light brought his attention back to the situation at hand. The overcast night limited his vision some—he wouldn't have been able to see a mouse at two miles—but he sure as hell could see a man carrying a rifle.

He didn't see the wolves, though he sensed them, their warmth calling to him. He looped around and flew more slowly. There . He slowed, following the bobbing light. The man was close to a clearing in the trees, and Micah knew without looking that the wolves were there. Moving with unexpected speed, the man dropped his light, raised his rifle, and shot.

The rifle's report echoed, but not loud enough to drown out the fierce growling and barking. The man still had his rifle raised, but before he could get off another shot, Micah plummeted out of the sky, wings close to his body, splitting the air with his hawk's scream.

At the last second, he flipped around so he hit the man with his talons outstretched. The man fired off a wild shot as Micah sank his talons into flesh. The man fell. Micah took on his human form and caught the rifle before it hit the ground.

Breathing heavily, Micah stood with one foot on the ground, the other on Jeremy's chest. He aimed the rifle at the man's head. "I thought Anders told you to get lost." His voice sounded weird, as if the hawk hadn't quite given up its hold on him.

"Fuck you." Jeremy tried to roll, but Micah stomped hard on his gut.

Like fearsome shadows, wolves surrounded them. The biggest, whose brindled muzzle hinted at age, got right up in Jeremy's face. His growl raised the hairs on the back of Micah's neck. When the old wolf bent further and took hold of Jeremy's throat, Micah stepped aside. The other wolves crowded in, and Micah turned his back to them.

"Hey," a rough voice shouted from the clearing. "Delilah's been hit."

Leaving Jeremy to the Alpha's judgment, Micah followed the sound, still carrying the rifle. He found Anders on his knees next to his sister. Micah didn't need a werewolf's nose to smell the blood. "Fuck." He dropped to the ground next to Anders. "What can I do to help?"

If Anders was surprised to see Micah, he didn't show it. "She needs to shift."

"Hurts." Delilah's gasp added emphasis to the single word.

"It's okay. If you shift, you'll heal." Anders kept a hand on his sister's head, fingers threaded through her hair.

"Too . . . soon."

"We'll do it together." Anders closed his eyes and did something . Micah couldn't see or hear anything, but he felt the surge in energy like he'd received it himself.

A wolf lay where Delilah had been. Chest heaving, one paw kicking at nothing. Anders bent over and murmured something right in the wolf's ear. Another surge of energy, and Delilah was back in her human body. She lay with her eyes closed, though her breathing was easier. Anders got his arms around her and lifted. He stood, cradling his sister, and without a word to Micah, he started walking in the direction of the cabins.

"I'm sorry," Micah called after him, the full horror of the situation landing on him with the strength of a blow. "I got here as soon as I could."

Anders paused, the silence between them filled by a man's scream that ended with awful suddenness. Rather than berate Micah for failing to arrive faster, Anders simply shook his head and resumed his walk.

"Fuck." Micah didn't know whether he should follow or not. Behind him, the wolves growled and snapped, and Micah wanted no part of whatever they were doing. "Just, fuck ."

He'd about decided to take on his hawk's form again when someone new came out from between the trees. A slight form, naked, her hair hanging loose around her shoulders.

Jasmine.

She was headed for the edge of the clearing where the wolves had left their clothing. She stopped not quite close enough to reach the pile, and something in the angle of her head spoke of confusion.

Micah went to her, keeping his gaze on the ground. From behind them, a man hollered, a shriek that made Micah's skin crawl, only to be drowned out by the wolves.

Picking up the first thing he came to, Micah handed it in her direction.

"Thank you." Her voice was a bare whisper.

He risked a glance, mainly to make sure he didn't see any blood. All clear. She stepped into the trousers, so he went back for a shirt. Handing her that, he waited until she was dressed to ask her anything stupid, like whether she was okay.

"Thank you," she said a second time. Her voice held more strength. An impressive amount, given what she'd been through.

"Anders took your mother back to the cabins," he said. "I can show you the way if you want."

She looked at him, and for the first time since they'd met, he felt like she actually saw him. "I can find the way, but if you wanted to come with me, that'd be cool." She glanced around, shivering. "It's probably safe enough…"

"But it's too soon for you to shift again, whereas I can turn into whatever you need me to be."

He winced at having given away so much, but the young wolf just smiled at him. "Whatever, dude. Let's go."

"Okay, so don't believe me." He matched her joking tone, and together they ducked into the trees.

Micah didn't want to think too hard about what the rest of the wolf pack was doing.

By the time they reached her cabin, Delilah was awake and bitching at Anders. "Put me down, dick. And where the hell is Jasmine?"

Anders dipped one shoulder so he could reach the doorknob without dropping his sister. "I expect she's with the pack."

"No." Delilah thrashed herself free of his grasp, almost knocking both of them onto their asses. "That's her father back there. She can't—"

Anders managed to stay on his feet, catching Delilah before she made it off the porch. "Hang on. We don't know that she's back there, and you don't want to get in the middle of the pack when you're on two legs."

"So I'll shift first." Her uncharacteristic petulance made it clear she knew she couldn't. She wouldn't have been able to shift to heal herself without Anders' help.

"Come on, now." At the edge of his hearing, wolves snarled. He liked to think they were just chasing the gunman back to his car, but there was no way he and Delilah could interfere.

"My baby," Delilah wailed. Anders wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Good Lord, I hope the kid had the sense to run the other way .

They were still on the porch when two people walked out of the woods: Jasmine, wearing sweats that were too long for her and one of Willy's tee shirts, and Micah.

"Mom." Jasmine's voice cracked. "I'm so sorry." She ran toward them, her baggy clothes flapping.

"No, baby, I'm sorry." Delilah got her arms around Jasmine and hugged her fiercely. "You've got nothing to apologize for."

"But I ran. When the gunshot went off, I ran."

The girl was maybe six inches taller than her mother, but she bent over, resting her head on Delilah's shoulder.

"That's exactly what you should have done." Delilah combed her fingers through Jasmine's hair. "Your wolf is smart."

"Is that…?" Jasmine straightened. "Do we know who shot at us?"

Delilah glanced at Anders, who gave a single head shake. "No, baby, we don't know. Now let's go inside and clean up some."

Mother and daughter went into their cabin, leaving Anders and Micah alone. That was about the time that Anders realized he hadn't dressed after shifting back to two legs. The way Micah's gaze was locked on his cock clued him in. Rather than feeling embarrassed, Anders straightened, holding his hands out so Micah could get a better look.

Micah flushed. His scent grew stronger, that still unidentified note a thing Anders could get addicted to. He'd wanted Micah before, sure, but the hawk's dramatic plunge to take out the gunman had raised want to need.

"I'm tempted to ask if you see something you like, but I'm pretty sure I already know the answer."

Micah's grin grew feral. "I've got a bigger… bed."

"Lead on, Hawkman."

Chuckling, Micah walked past Anders and headed for his cabin. Anders followed, his mind completely consumed by the man's scent, the heat of his body. The rest of the pack had been able to take out their emotions on the shooter—on Jeremy , because who else could it have been?—and were going to be busy for a while. They wouldn't miss him.

And if they did, oh well. Anders needed this. He needed it bad.

No sooner had the front door shut than Micah turned on him, backing him up against the door and pressing their bodies together.

"Didn't know hawks were omnivores," Anders murmured, hands cupping Micah's jaw, one thumb tracing his lower lip.

"Not a hawk." Micah caught the tip of Anders' thumb and bit down hard.

"Damn. Lemme see if I can find something better to do with that mouth." He grabbed Micah, not gently, and slammed their lips together.

Whatever he was, Micah could kiss. They came together with the kind of force that could burn things down. Open-mouthed kisses, swallowing each other whole. Micah's hands were everywhere, his nails scraping across Anders' skin. He traced a rough line down Anders' spine and into his crack, which made Anders arch his back and damn near howl.

"Oh, man," he gasped, his cock jutting into Micah's hip. "How do you want it?"

"Any old way." Micah grabbed a handful of Anders' hair and wrenched his head back further, latching onto his throat with his teeth.

"Gonna… leave… a mark." Anders could barely force the words out. This wasn't the time for fancy, so he grabbed ahold of Micah's tee shirt and yanked. It ripped right down the middle, baring smooth skin.

Micah hummed against his throat, pausing long enough to shrug off what was left of his shirt. So smooth. Warm. Strong . He was shorter than Anders by a few inches, without much hair on his chest or back, which was fine because Anders had enough hair for both of them.

He gasped again when Micah's questing fingers teased nearer to his hole.

Aiming for whatever was closest, Anders bit Micah's earlobe, a sharp nip that made Micah yell a garbled version of "fucking hot."

Anders notched his knee between Micah's thighs, needing more contact. More heat. More. Just, more . Mouthed his neck, past the stubble to the softer skin of his throat. Micah's taste had the same— something —as his scent, and Anders barely resisted the temptation to bite harder.

Would his blood…?"Jesus, hawk man."

Throwing his head back, Micah hung onto Anders' shoulders and thrust hard against his thigh.

That brought Anders dangerously close to the point of no return. "Here or bedroom?"

Micah thrust again. "Both." His voice wasn't much more than a gasp.

Dragging some air into his lungs, Anders stroked Micah's arms. " Both doesn't actually answer my question, dude. I want to do it all, so where do I start?"

A small loveseat was shoved up against the other wall, an antique television on a cart sitting across from it. "What if you kneel down on that couch so I can eat your ass?" Because that was exactly what he wanted—to go down deep, where all his senses could explore this intoxicating man.

Micah froze and with a sharp flip of his hips, he pulled away from Anders' grasp. His laugh was almost a whine. "Damn, you'll make me come like a teenager."

"Oh, baby." Anders didn't exactly pick Micah up, but he wrapped his arms around his waist and lifted. Carrying some of his weight, he frog-marched Micah toward the loveseat. They both worked on Micah's jeans, getting them down around his ankles. One more kiss, long and wet and deep, then Anders guided him around.

Following Anders' suggestion, Micah kneeled on the couch. With a gentle shove, Anders had Micah bent forward. "Brace yourself on the back, baby."

Micah bent further, which thrust his ass out nicely. Anders got down on the floor behind him, and for a moment all he did was inhale. From this close, Micah's musk was even stronger, calling to something deep in Anders. Something primal. Something so essential he had to shy away.

"Your fucking ass, though," he murmured, pretending this was just about how good Micah looked.

Micah didn't respond, at least not verbally, but when Anders leaned over and nipped him, Micah arched his back further, opening himself up to Anders' inspection.

"Aw, hell yeah." Without any further warning, Anders speared Micah's hole with his tongue.

Micah gave a strangled cry. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck me, yes ."

Anders licked a stripe up Micah's perineum and over his hole. "So you're going to let me fuck you?" He spoke with his lips touching the warm skin of Micah's ass. He wanted to bury his cock in Micah, wanted it bad, but only if that's what Micah wanted, too. His blood was running hot enough that Anders would get off no matter what they did.

Micah glanced over his shoulder, his grin so sweet and evil that Anders was going to be jacking off to the memory for weeks. "Fuck me, suck me, eat me out. I like it all."

Spreading Micah's ass cheeks wider, Anders licked another stripe over his hole. There was a wildness to Micah that was unlike anyone Anders had ever experienced.

A wildness that he could very well come to need.

He'd never met a hawk shifter before, so maybe that was it.

Sure . Micah was handsome. Sexy. Hot. Anders worked a finger in, searching for Micah's gland, and was rewarded with a strangled cry. Responsive . That deep feeling rose again. Short of breath, heart pounding, Anders made a conscious choice to get busy eating what was right in front of him and deal with whatever that meant later.

And so he did. Working Micah's hole, teasing and stabbing it with the tip of his tongue. Micah didn't talk much, but he arched his back as if begging for more, and Anders was more than happy to give it to him.

When Anders couldn't wait any longer, he stood, his knees cracking. "Lube?"

"Just a sec." Micah straightened, breathing hard. He seemed to list to one side, as if he wasn't fully in control of his own body. Taking that as a compliment, Anders wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him.

"Bedroom," Micah whispered. He managed to lead Anders into the bedroom and, after digging into a black satchel by the door, dragged them both onto the bed. Anders grabbed the lube, smeared it in all the right places, then set Micah up on his back with his hips on a pillow.

"This okay?" he asked. Micah's grin was a soft shadow of his earlier evil smirk, but Anders decided that was answer enough. Lining himself up with Micah's hole, he pushed in.

Micah threw his head back, gasping and laughing as Anders settled himself balls deep. "Now," Micah said. " Move ."

Anders did as he was told. Hands locked on Micah's thighs, he pounded into him with everything he had. He should have held back—an ordinary man couldn't take a wolf's full strength—but he couldn't stop himself.

Micah was far from ordinary.

Extraordinary, really.

Micah started to babble words Anders couldn't quite comprehend, could barely hear through the waves of pleasure crashing around them. He took hold of Micah's cock, stroking in time with his thrusts, until Micah went rigid and hot cum poured over Anders' hand.

Sweat running down the sides of his face and between his shoulder blades, he gave one last thrust and climaxed, his cock pulsing deep in Micah's body.

Pleasure so sweet it wrung him out at the same time left him wanting more.

His strength gave out and he collapsed on Micah, staying there for who knew how long.

He lost track of time.