Chapter Six

A white serpent lay coiled in the corner of the room. Fuck . Panic pried Micah's eyes open and tightened his chest so he could hardly breathe.

Nothing. No serpent.

Did he dream it? The horror coursing through his veins said no. The bigger concern had to do with the demon himself. Had Seth Damyan discovered Micah's bolt hole?

Because if he had, Micah was so, so fucked.

He had to leave. That much was obvious. He lay still, giving himself one more moment of peace. Anders slept next to him, warm and solid, his breathing heavy. Lying with him felt natural. Right.

Leaving was going to suck.

"Shh. You're thinking too loud."

Anders' unexpected words made Micah flinch. "I thought you were asleep."

"I thought you were asleep, but then I wouldn't be much of a wolf if I couldn't tell when my bedmate woke up."

Micah relaxed, allowing his eyes to close. In fact, he needed more rest. That quick shift to hawk form, coupled with their late- night shenanigans, had left him drained. "I didn't know wolves could hear people think."

"Thing is, you're not just people."

Micah flapped a hand in his direction. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Anders rolled up onto his side, a heavy arm landing across Micah's belly. "Most people can't turn themselves into hawks, dive-bomb a guy with a gun, knock him over, shift to their human form, and disarm him, all in the same breath."

"Well, I mean, they could. Maybe."

"Nope." Anders smacked his belly. "Is this the part where you confess your deepest secret? Because I'd really love to know what you are."

Micah sighed. "This is the part where I take off." Though he really didn't want to.

"Why?" Anders shook off some of his relaxation.

"Because too many people saw me last night." And because there's a demon on my ass and I don't want him to get to you.

"Like who? And what if they did?"

"Your whole pack saw me, and if they tell anyone I'm here, things could get really bad, really quick." Liar. Things were already really, really bad.

"Pretty sure only me, Delilah, and Jasmine recognized you, and none of us will say anything to anybody."

"I'm sure you wouldn't do it intentionally." Nerves jangling, Micah ran the back of his hand along Anders' jaw. Can I really share what he wants to know? He had to. He had to give Anders something to explain why he was about to ghost him. "But I'm a polymorph, and I've learned not to take chances."

Anders gave a low whistle. "Jesus. I thought polymorphs were some old folklore thing."

"We might as well be, considering how often we appear."

Did it count as ghosting someone if you announced that you were about to leave? Fuck . Micah needed to get the hell out of Dodge.

Yet he lay in bed as if Anders' arm was an actual restraint. This man, this wolf, drew him the way few others ever had. Micah knew his way around a one-night stand and that sense of morning-after embarrassment that had him ducking out the door as soon as he was conscious.

This felt different. Yeah, he and Anders barely knew each other, but their energies were aligned. Anders couldn't be more than thirty or thirty-five, and while Micah didn't know everything about werewolves, that felt young to be a Pack Beta. At the same time, Anders seemed to have a rootedness that Micah could only dream about, so the Beta thing fit.

He had no fucking clue what he gave to Anders in return. Except a fucking demon's familiar hiding in the corner. He had to leave.

Now .

"So you can shift into any animal you want?" Anders sounded a little amused, a little impressed, a little sleepy.

Micah stifled the urge to boast. "Basically." He had a sudden image of running as a wolf next to Anders. Stifled that one, too. "Pretty much if it has a pulse, I can take on the form."

"Humans, too?"

For some reason, the question made Micah feel shy. "Yeah. Men, women, even kids if I need to."

"Damn." Anders nuzzled the top of his head. "So, is this the real you?"

Micah smiled despite an unexpected swell of nerves. "No." This was new territory. Very few people knew his true nature and even fewer knew his true face, yet here he was, spilling it all to a relative stranger.

"Huh."

"What?"

"I don't know." Anders stroked Micah's ribs. "I like this version of you pretty well, but now I'm curious."

Micah caught his hand and laced their fingers together. "Not sure I'm ever going to satisfy your curiosity. At the risk of being overdramatic, if there's a way to fuck up, I've found it. I need to take off before…"

"Before what?"

Micah brought Anders' hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. "More trouble than you want to deal with."

"So this is it? We never see each other again? I don't think I like that."

Micah shut his eyes. "I don't either, to be honest."

Anders rolled away from him, scrounging for something on the floor. "What's your cell phone number?"

Pretty sure he was tempting fate, Micah gave it to him—his real cell phone number, the one he'd only given to his ex, and only because something could happen to Anna.

He must be losing his fucking mind.

"Okay." Anders swiped his own phone's screen. "Obviously, I don't know anything about your situation, but I do know how to keep a secret. If you need a place to crash, well, I'm on ten acres, and my nearest neighbor is half a mile away."

Micah pushed up onto his elbow, unable to look away from the man in his bed, with a grin that was equal parts pleased and embarrassed. "I don't think—"

"Why not? You've made it pretty clear you came here because you're running from something, and our family gathering has interfered with that."

"You are…" Micah couldn't find the right words. Yes would have been his first choice, but staying with Anders would be taking selfishness to a new level. "Thank you, but I can't."

Anders' smile dampened but didn't entirely fade. "The offer stands if you change your mind." He sat up, shaking off the covers. "Smells like Delilah's got sausage going. Come have breakfast before we both take off."

"Thanks." Micah had no intention of joining them for anything, but he didn't want to be rude. He couldn't tell what Delilah was cooking, but his nose wasn't as sensitive as a wolf's. All he could smell was sweat and sex and man.

"Shower?" Anders asked.

"Go ahead. I'd join you, but there really isn't space for two."

Anders dragged him in for a kiss. "I want to see you again, and not just because you fuck like a wild man. Or, you know, a hawk."

Laughing, Micah kissed him back. "Go shower, wolf. Breakfast is waiting."

As soon as he heard the water squeak on, he got out of bed. He didn't want to. Didn't want to run. He'd need to stash his CR-V again. Shift from one form to another: out of sight, out of mind. He was selfish and greedy, and he shat on just about everyone he ever cared about.

Anders deserved better. He was everything Micah could never be.

Could never have.

"Never."

Grim determination wiped out the last of the night's warmth and pleasure. Jaw clenched, Micah gathered his stuff. He didn't want to ruin everything with a protracted goodbye. Before his resolve could fade, he let himself out of the cabin and threw his duffle bag into the back of his car. He needed to leave before anyone could stop him.

Sick and more than a little sad, he started the engine. Half his mind shouted, This is wrong . The other half backed out of the parking spot and headed down the road.

When Anders got out of the shower, Micah was gone. Was he surprised? Not really. Hurt? A little. Disappointed?

Yeah, that.

Even so, he had a pack to deal with and an Alpha who was probably annoyed that Anders had disappeared after all the drama. That thought sobered him up real quickly, and he filed thoughts of Micah under later .

He was wrong about one thing, though. Potter wasn't just annoyed that Anders had gone MIA. Potter was pissed. Wearing only a blue scrub top and a pair of shorts, he came flying out of his cabin as soon as Anders hit the lawn.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Anders shrugged, his face heating like he was eight years old and had been busted for running in the halls at school. "I, uh, came back with Delilah."

"And then decided to spend the night with Jenkins?" Potter managed to make it sound like a mortal sin.

"I'm sorry for…" He ran out of words because he couldn't decide what he was sorry for. "I mean, I couldn't shift back, and I couldn't rejoin you and the pack while on two legs. It didn't seem like I was leaving anyone in danger."

Quick as a snake, Potter reached out and shoved him in the chest. "What if Jeremy had gotten past us? You should have been watching for him, not fucking around."

Anders straightened, and when Potter shoved him again, he held his ground. "Are you saying you and the rest of the pack weren't capable of chasing off a human? Micah disarmed the guy for you."

"Micah? So you two are buddies now?"

"What of it?"

Potter's fists tightened. "Because when I chose a Beta, I wanted someone who would put pack first. Always."

Anders inhaled hard, his shock quickly turning to anger. "You're welcome to choose a different Beta any time you want."

They glared at each other for a long moment, their clash of power causing an audible sonic drone. Anders couldn't back down or Potter would take him up on his dare and choose a new Beta. The timing of his hookup might have been awkward, but he wasn't wrong. Delilah and Jasmine hadn't been in any real danger, and Potter and the rest of the pack took care of Jeremy without his help.

Anders looked away first, but only because he wasn't ready to challenge the old wolf to a duel.

Potter didn't seem to have anything else to say, so Anders stepped around him, heading back to his cabin. Delilah called to him through her open door and he detoured, forcing his anger away before he spewed it all over her. Mom sat at Delilah's table, her expression somber. Her eyes were the bluest of all of them, though today they were dark, subdued. Concerned.

"Come eat something," Delilah said, pointing to the empty chair. "Jazz won't be up for a while, and you look like you could use some food."

He sat down, surprised to find his hands were shaking. "Did you hear all that?"

"Whole pack heard, most likely." She poured him some coffee. "I hope he was worth it."

Anders wrapped his hands around the mug, grateful for the warmth. "None of your business. None of his, either, for that matter."

"He's not going to replace you." Mom's voice held more than the typical maternal reassurance. "Though you came close to making him look weak."

That prompted a laugh from Anders. Mom always did cut right to the chase. "I let him win."

"Come on, big bro, you not only let him win, but you were pretty obvious about it." Delilah leaned against the counter, grimacing into her coffee. "And it could well come back to bite you at some point. I mean, he was freaked out when he and the gang got back and didn't know where you were."

"What? Like, he thought I was hiding somewhere to ambush Jeremy on my own?"

She ignored his sarcasm. "I told him you were fine, and then he got pissed when I wouldn't tell him where you'd gone."

"But you knew?"

That made her laugh. "Dude, please. You two have been sniffing around each other this whole weekend. I might not have watched you go into his cabin, but it was a fairly safe bet."

"Shut up," he said, but he laughed too. Mom didn't, but he was too old to worry that she'd be upset by his sex life.

"I hope it was good."

He raised the mug of coffee like he was making a toast. "Still none of your business."

Something in his expression must have given him away. "Mm-hmm." She grinned, dishing him up some eggs and sausage. "Are you going to see him again?"

Anders choked on his mouthful of coffee. "Also none of your business."

"Hmm… your smile faded a little."

"Come off it, D. I have his cell phone number and promised to text him. Is that good enough?"

She fell back against the counter, laughing the whole way. "Pinky swear?"

"Fuck you."

"Gross!"

"Anders Walter, don't use that kind of language."

"Mom." He rolled his eyes at the use of his middle name and only just stopped himself from pointing out his advanced age.

Jasmine hollered, "Quiet out there!" from the bedroom, sending them all into a round of giggles.

Applying himself to the food he'd been served, Anders wondered if he really would text Micah. Probably, though he'd feel better about it if Micah texted him first. Rather than dwell on that, he swallowed a mouthful of sausage and asked, "She okay?"

Delilah sighed into her own cup of coffee. "More or less. Potter said they drew some blood, then chased Jeremy back to his car."

"Huh." Anders didn't contradict her, but from what he'd heard, they'd done more than draw blood. On the other hand, Potter hadn't busted down Micah's door at oh-dark-thirty to demand Anders hide the body, so maybe Jeremy did make it back to his car.

And if he'd turned up in somebody's ER, claiming he'd been attacked by werewolves, well… "Fucking asshole."

"What the hell was I thinking?" Delilah gave a sarcastic laugh.

Anders pretended to choke. "Been wondering that same thing for… how old is Jasmine now? Fifteen? That many years, at least."

Delilah gave him the kind of sneer only a little sister could get away with. "Says the guy who hooked up with a hawk shifter."

"He's… uh, you know how those shifters are." Anders caught himself before he blurted out Micah's true identity.

She laughed, but there was a hint of curiosity in her gaze, as if she'd heard his near-miss. Mom murmured something bland about privacy, then Jasmine truly saved him by staggering out of the bedroom, still wearing Willy's tee shirt. "Coffee," she moaned. "Coffee, please."

Rolling her eyes, Delilah fished around in the cupboard for another mug. "If you're old enough to shift, I guess you're old enough for coffee."

Jasmine took a deep swallow but came up sputtering. "Gross." She grimaced, sticking out her tongue. "How do you drink this stuff?"

That made them all laugh. Anders finished his breakfast quickly so Jasmine could take his seat while Delilah added increasing amounts of cream and sugar to Jasmine's coffee until it was deemed perfect. He hugged his niece, kissed his mother, and flipped his sister off, then went back to his cabin. They were due to leave soon, so he packed up his stuff and loaded it into his Ford truck.

When he was ready to go, he poked the side of Willy's tent and his brother crawled out, red hair sticking up wildly, bitching that Delilah needed to make him breakfast, too. Simon and Uncle Beck came out of their cabins, too, though Potter did not.

There was a wariness in the way Simon and his uncle greeted him, underscoring Mom's claim that he'd made Potter look weak. For fuck's sake. That was the very last thing he'd intended.

Fortunately, Willy didn't seem bothered. He side-eyed Anders, his smile saying he was up to something. "Your shower must have been busted."

Anders side-eyed him right back. "What?"

"I mean, I saw you coming out of Cabin Seven with wet hair first thing this morning." Willy's grin was brighter than his damned red hair. "Nice of Jenkins to let you borrow his."

Anders crossed his arms, annoyed and yet grateful that Willy was teasing him instead of acting like he'd done something unforgiveable. Still, he gave Willy the same "none of your business" response he'd used with Delilah.

These wolves were his pack, his family. If those bonds sometimes chafed, well, the benefits outweighed the irritations. He'd apologize to Potter when they'd both had a chance to calm down, and everything would go back to normal. His old, before-Micah normal. It made no sense for him to establish anything serious with someone who wasn't a wolf and wouldn't be able to join his pack.

Taking one last look around, Anders put away thoughts of Micah Jenkins and their night together. The guy wouldn't take him up on his offer of a place to hide out. Hell, he likely wouldn't even text. Cabin Seven looked a little lonesome in the daylight, set off as it was from the others.

Did I lock the door? "Shit." He called Willy over and, in a low voice, asked him to make sure Micah's cabin was locked when they left.

"Sure, but, uh, I'll wait till everyone else is busy."

Anders grinned at his younger brother. "Thanks, dude."

"No problem." Willy glanced at the dirt. "Potter'll calm down."

There was enough of a question in his voice that Anders put a hand on his shoulder. "Yup, and I'll apologize." He straightened, giving Willy's shoulder a squeeze. "I'm going to head home. You coming to work tomorrow?"

"Of course," Willy said, like he'd never called in on a Monday because he'd partied too hard over the weekend. Anders met his faux outrage with another grin and climbed into his truck. With a wave to the rest of the pack, he put it in gear and headed home.

Without sending Micah a text.